Inside A Girl's Head by Vai B. Charm (inspirational books for women txt) 📕

secret and not to talk about my menstruation in front of men of the house. It’s a dirty act to be a woman, but it’s a bigger sin if you try to talk about it. The pain, the bleeding and all of the mess should be kept hidden from people, especially from the male ones. I was not allowed to enter the kitchen on my special days and my mother observed the same rules herself in her special days. Sanitary napkins were not a thing in our household or that too of others for that matter. Women generally used cotton rags for the purposes of menstruation. Everybody knew that sanitary napkins are safe and must be used but everyone, from my mother to the shopkeepers, were playing pigeons. Eyes wide open pigeons.

 

5

 

The lift feels so crowded, though I am alone in here. I want to get out of here as soon as possible. The screen above the illuminated buttons is counting the floors. 1 2 3 4 5 6.......10. The steel doors finally parted. The figure in the mirror looks like me but paler and thinner. I look at my face but not into the eyes. There’s no need to look into them now, I know what’s inside me. As I step out of the lift I run straight to the washroom. Opening the door I run towards a cubicle and throw up in a toilet. My throat tastes of stale food and acids from my gut. My throat is sore from puking; tears are flowing down my eyes, smearing my face with blackness of the eyeliner. I shouldn’t have stepped in the lift. Lifts are not safe, lifts are not home, and lifts are not windows either. Lifts are cages, they lock you inside and your voices too, and I learned it all the darker way.

I was a fool to think that I can overcome my fears, I can’t. I stand up; my knees dirty with mud from the tiled floor. I look around, there’s a lot of dirt and water on the floor. The basins are clogged with paper soap residues. A dustbin is lying on its side, mouth wide open, garbage all spilled. I see a cloth piece smeared with blood, It reminded me of my very first periods; bile rises in my throat, and I feel like I’ll choke on my own vomit, I taste bile. I throw up again, this time in a basin. I look up, a mirror is in front of me, and my eyes are piercing inside me. I hate mirrors; I wish I could smash it, like I smashed the one in hospital that day.

6

 The day I first opened my eyes to look at beauteous miracles of this world, was not the day I was born, instead it was the day on which my best friend abandoned me to seek some other miracles. That was the day I found out, the more you care about people the more they use you. That day I decided that what so ever happens, from now on I am going to live my Life my way. I'll do whatever I would like to. But the hard part was not to make a decision, the hard part was to know that what were the things I want to do. And as I thought on and on I realised that there was nothing I wanted to do, inside my head there were a lot of ideas but either they were about others or involved others. Not even a single one was mine. No doubt I am an individual and I do exist on my own but still the ideas which I called mine actually. As I delved further into my own self , I found a void like a black hole; all vacuum, and no light. I was going deep and deep inside myself, and as I fell into the pit I was. I realised that I was empty, that the humours were gone from me, I had no Ideas, no ways, no specificities, no talent. I was devoid of every single feeling a human being is ought to have. I knew that if I had feelings, I must have found some inside me evolving into ideas. That day I didn’t sleep. I joust thought on and on. Out of the thinking process there was only one thought that was recurring. One single thought that was very powerful and instructed me to do something in order to right all the wrongs. The thought was, kill yourself. The thought promised me that once I commit suicide everything will be alright. It was not the first time I was getting these suicidal thoughts. These thoughts are what I’ve lived my life with.
All of us know schools suck but for me school tossed, punched, kicked, slapped and killed every single day. I was on target every single day. I used to think that there was some problem in me, there has to be some problem in me. I used to talk to myself for hours as a loner usually does. I talked to walls, to plants, to dolls and what not. I talked to everyone except human beings. Human beings suck at being human. Even my parents didn’t know about my true feelings. I don’t know why but I was very good at concealing my feelings. I was bullied at school, tossed around, called names but I never told my parents because I liked to conceal my true self.

7

 People should keep their eyes closed and their faces veiled when I am around them. It will be good if they keep their mouths shut too though it's too much to ask for. Each and every person I meet is rotting inside, hollow and fake and through their eyes I can see inside them, I don't know if it is a superpower or a curse. May be I am myself so dark deep down that people have fears sketched over their faces when they see me and in those fears I can read their truths and lies as clear as black and white. Their faces are as transparent as water. I can see through them, I can see the heart which is charred, I can see the soul which is wrenched. 

Their words are hollow and fake too, they don't mean what they say and I know precisely what they mean amd what they want to say. That's where the problem actually starts. I meet people, look at them and suddenly i know things about them which they don't know even. Then I get connected and empathise with them and slowly and slowly I start to fall for them. 

And suddenly out of nowhere we are in love. A love so beautiful and deep that I don't want to loose it. not now not ever. I start to believe in the person and I feel that each and every thing they say is the only truth in this world. They want me to be vulnerable and transparent, reassuring me that they can recieve me the way I truly am, that they can handle the crude me. 

I won't lie but somewhere deep inside my heart I also want to do this. I also want to be vulnerable like others, I also want to be transparent like others. So slowly and slowly I open myself up for them, removing all the fortifications and shields I have built around me. I drop down all the shiny armors of mine and then suddenly I am stark naked. Pure and true. But people are afraid of truth. They don't like you to be vulnerable, they want you to be strong always while they cry their hearts out, while they pour all out to you. 

They are afraid of facing you when you're pure, they can't take you as you're, though they say that they can. No, they can't. 

Noone wants to see your swordsmanship, what they admire is the shiny armour you wear.

Imprint

Text: August Nexus
Publication Date: 10-29-2017

All Rights Reserved

Dedication:
"To all the readers out there."