Love Scars by Kalai Selvi Arivalagan (non fiction books to read .TXT) 📕

for immediate blood donation for an operation. So, I have to go there immediately. The documents you handed over at my office today are something urgent to be done. They are legal documents with the signature from our company’s legal advisor.”

 

“Oh! I understand.”

 

“Can you join me for a cup of tea?”  Sree invited him.

 

“No, thanks. My mother will be waiting for me. I think you can come home and join me for dinner.”

 

“I know what you will be eating at home for dinner. Leave me.” Sree chuckled loudly.

 

“Don’t make fun. It has become a custom at home.” Vel frowned.

 

“Rice with milk. A peculiar combination, I have not heard of.” Sree laughed loudly.

 

“Enough. Hereafter, don’t come to me for help.” Vel walked briskly and reached his home. His mother was already waiting at the doorstep.

 

“Sree, how are you? Come and have your dinner.” Vel’s mother invited Sree.

 

“Thanks ma. Let him have his favourite.” Sree replied with a smile.

 

“I know your mother is not at home now. Come and have your dinner. I know your preference.” Vel’s mother went inside to get the dinner for both of them.

 

After eating their dinner, both of them sat near the stairs. Vel looked at the rising moon in the sky. The moonlight lit the place bright, and he could feel the fragrant smell of jasmine flowers that bloomed at the pots in the terrace.

 

“What happened in the morning?” Sree questioned Vel casually.

 

“Nothing”

 

“ I know.”

 

“Nothing special.”

 

“I heard you saved someone from falling down the stairs.”

 

“Whoever it may be, I would have done the same thing. Nothing special about it.”

 

“Ok. I believe in you. Good night.” With a smile, Sree waved and left him alone to think about the incident again.

 

Vel could not understand what is the big deal in discussing an incident that happened within a fraction of seconds and how luckily he could save her from a nasty fall.

 

When Saranya slipped down the stairs, Vel was walking toward the lift after handing over the documents at the counter. As Sree had informed the office about Vel, it took only a few minutes for him to handover the documents and leave the office immediately. As Vel’s shift started in the afternoon on that day, he could spare time to help Sree.

 

At that moment, he didn’t think about anything else, but preventing her from falling down looked important. Though many appreciated for the timely catch, he knew very well, some may comment and gossip. Now and then, something must be there for them to gossip and comment. They are good story tellers, story developers who can build scripts with creative dialogues that could surpass a professional story teller or a script writer. These gossips would fade away within days but no one could deny they may leave an impact on the persons who were involved. Interestingly, that impact may develop into instances for a new story that grew day by day.

Chapter 4

 

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth

But has trouble enough of its own   Ella Wheeler Wilcox

 

For her the world changed within seconds. The heart-shattering message reached her when she was getting ready to attend the grand annual festival at her home town. For the first few seconds that message failed to get recorded in her thoughts.

 

“Satish is no more.” The shocking news made her dumb and words failed her for a while. The heaviness at heart choked her words and her tongue failed to roll and lisp. But, tears didn’t stop rolling down her cheeks spoiling her makeup.

 

Her family members were utterly shattered. Uncontrollable sobs ruled her parents. Her father who was a meek, good, soft-spoken person sat tongue-tied on the chair and could not utter even a single word.

 

A poem by Emily Dickinson popped before her inner eye.

 

Because I could not stop for Death –

He kindly stopped for me –  

The Carriage held but just Ourselves –  

And Immortality.

 

We slowly drove – He knew no haste

And I had put away

My labor and my leisure too,

For His Civility –

 

We passed the School, where Children strove

At Recess – in the Ring –  

We passed the Fields of Gazing Grain –  

We passed the Setting Sun –

 

Or rather – He passed us –

The Dews drew quivering and chill –

For only Gossamer, my Gown –

My Tippet – only Tulle –

 

We paused before a House that seemed

A Swelling of the Ground –

The Roof was scarcely visible –

The Cornice – in the Ground –

 

Since then – ‘tis Centuries – and yet

Feels shorter than the Day

I first surmised the Horses’ Heads

Were toward Eternity –

 

Whenever she read the poem, she imagined Death as her Love and she reveled in that virtual world that relished her at heart with an unexpressed satiation.

 

Saranya realized life had sarcastically fulfilled her wish for she always preferred to read tragedies; she could not express her feelings that was not sad whenever the evolving characters lost their lives and left this earth with unfulfilled wishes.

 

What happened in real life did not make her happy, instead it made her feel shattered and unhappy. Not only her, the whole family were in pain and they could not even console each other.

 

The next two days went away leaving no place for her to sit and wail. Satish’s parents wanted her to be with them. It was really a heavy blow to see their son’s death after few months of marriage. Before understanding each other, their wedded life ended leaving nothing to remember for her and for him also.

 

A poem on Death by Rabindranath Tagore

 

O thou the last fulfilment of life,

Death, my death, come and whisper to me!

 

Day after day I have kept watch for thee;

for thee have I borne the joys and pangs of life.

 

All that I am, that I have, that I hope and all my love

have ever flowed towards thee in depth of secrecy.

 

One final glance from thine eyes

and my life will be ever thine own.

 

The flowers have been woven

and the garland is ready for the bridegroom.

 

After the wedding the bride shall leave her home

and meet her lord alone in the solitude of night.

                       

Days turned numb without any words. No one at home spoke to each other. Saranya lived like a zombie going on with her routine and she preferred to be alone without meeting anyone who visited her parents to know how she was. Before understanding how a married life would be, fate thrashed her at will and made her broken, cursed and unhappy at all levels. 

Chapter 5

 

Why do you want to write about pain? Saranya mused. Is it not right to tell we need to honour the experience that pain can give us. Pain may be a great teacher, but no one has the power to withstand its impact.

 

When we write down those painful experiences, we record and acknowledge the moments of our lives that add meaning to the life we lived here. Those experiences connect us with the moments, the way we handle those painful experiences, and how we come out of that stands as a proof.

 

It is our natural tendency to push away the pain as quickly as possible and we fail to honour that experience. Even if we don’t consider it, it comes to us as a teacher and a friend. We must learn to honour the pain by allowing it to use the space of our lives. If we resist something, the longer it will be there. When we resist the pain without accepting it, it tends to be there with us for more time. But, when we accept it and don’t resist, it allows us to create a world in which we can enjoy the life completely with much happiness.

 

How can we honour our painful experiences to establish a conscious relationship with it? We must give them their due rewards by painting, writing, or serving the needy.  Even lighting a candle may turn to be a good gesture that acknowledges the change pain has brought in our lives.

 

Reading a tragedy is definitely different from living a tragic life. What we read and feel virtually, when it gets translated into real moments, no one can help except God. Tragic lovers who pine their separation or a lovable couple who were made to live far away from each due to unacceptable reasons prove to be solid examples that convey the message strongly. Always grasp the life that has been given to you and do your best to change those moments into something valuable that would nurture your heart.

 

After mourning for more than three months, Saranya decided to continue her higher studies. Luckily, her college came to her rescue. Initially, she started to handle classes for the freshers who started college that year. The vibrant laughs and chats of the young girls helped her to forget her loss for a while. She never sat alone and planned her time to do something constructive always.

 

Saranya volunteered to help her colleagues when they struggled to handle their classes. She helped them prepare question papers, corrected answer sheets, and helped girls who really needed help in understanding the beauty of the language. She strived hard to go back to her days when she enjoyed her quality time spent with her friends or the time spent with the little children who often came to her home to be with her. To make her parents feel relieved and happy, Saranya learned to read or write till she felt tired and sleepy.

Chapter 6

 

Days grow into weeks, weeks grow into months, and months grow into years. Day and night comes and goes in cycles. We all go to sleep at night and get up for a refreshing day with the dawn. Then we go