One type of Death

Do you remember the time when you really loved to run along the beach, the wind against you face, the high you felt in the breathless aftermath? You knew no other joy and no other passion. It was as if you lived for that exhilaration .Do you remember the day you fell down and got hurt by a pointed shell lying there on the beach and the scar that marks your left cheek now, is all what was left after that one crazy run? I never quite understood why you quit running after that. All I knew was that you never wanted go to the beach with me again.

Maybe today after almost two decades I think I can finally comprehend.

When you get hurt because of something/someone you really cared about, there is a part of you that decays away and slowly dies with every hit you take. All that is left is a dispassionate sense that it will never be the same again.


Raaga said...

Don't hit me... but I remember a sakkaraipongal incident :) a close friend took me to her house on Pongal and made me eat sakkarai pongal... I quite enjoyed it until then...that day I was forced to eat it with jackfruit... since then, neither have I been able to eat jackfruit, nor have I been able to eat sakkarai pongal... in fact, I can't eat at that friend's house.

Keerti said...


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