She hated sitting at the beach.
No, REALLY. She hated it.
Sand in her clothes and her hair didn’t really appeal to her, and she never seemed to have the right footwear.
But today was different.
She looked out at the expanse of sand in front of her, and the black sea ahead.
It made her feel restless, which was funny, considering all the books she’d ever read always described such moments as serene and calming. There was something welling up inside of her, something she couldn’t understand.
Behind her, a glass rattled. Someone sniffed.
She turned around sharply, only to find noone there.
She shrugged and looked at the moon, enveloped by clouds. Now THAT was beautiful.
A cool breeze wove itself through the tousled strands of her hair.
Footsteps echoed behind her. Sounds of someone walking through the grass. She didn’t even bother to turn back this time, closing her eyes and looking skywards, allowing the wind to touch her face gently.
Suddenly, someone coughed politely. Her head jerked forward and her eyes snapped open.
There was someone standing in the light next to her, only semi-illuminated. Shrouded by this dim glow, he looked at her, scratched his head sheepishly and said,
“Hey! Mind if I sit here?”
She turned away without giving him an answer.
As he settled down beside her, he whispered, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Hmmm…”, she nodded.
Sneaking a glance, she saw him looking out to sea, a wistful cloud on his face.
“What’s your story?”
She smiled. You had to appreciate the line.
“Not everyone has a story, you know? Some people just have unfinished sentences, waiting to be collated.”
“Well, I have a story.”
She didn’t bother to ask. She did, however, hope he would tell her. It would make for an interesting memory.
But no, he didn’t.
They sat there, looking at the waves ambitiously rise, only to fall once they reached the shore.
“Do you believe?”, he asked.
“Anything. Everything.”
“I believe in destiny. I believe in faith. I believe in a higher power up there.” She pointed to the now semi-visible moon. “What about you?”
“I lost my beliefs a long time ago.”
“That’s a bit cynical, don’t you think?”
His reply seemed harsh, full of bitter experiences.
“Alright, I won’t ask.”
“Shall we take a walk?”, he asked.
They walked on the beach barefoot, letting the sand encircle their toes. Strangely enough, it didn’t feel that bad, she thought to herself.
“I once believed in life.”
They walked on in silence.
“I believed in love.”
They turned around and began walking back.
“I believed in myself.”
She turned to look at him when he said this, but he turned away.
“I believed in a higher power up there.”
She nodded, hoping to seem wise.
“You know what I thought when I saw you sitting there?”
“I said to myself, here’s a girl who believes she’s seen and faced a lot of things head-on, but has yet to step out into the big, bad world. Here’s a girl on the brink of reality, but she’s afraid to look down.”
She scoffed, “All this, from the ten seconds I was sitting on that ledge?”
“You’d be surprised.”
“I guess I already am…”
“You see that light up ahead?”
“Walk with me.”
She felt a strange urge to hold his hand and tell him things she’d never told anyone.
“I have a mask on…”, she paused.
“I know.”
“I don’t really let anyone look at the real me, because I’m afraid that they might not like what they see.”
“Go on…”
“I’m always striving to make people like me, just because…I don’t know…Maybe it’s a fear of rejection?”
“That’s a start.”
“There are times when I just feel like disappearing, leaving everyone wondering where I am, just to see if they’d look for me. But I don’t, because I’m not certain that they would.”
“Why so?”. He sounded genuinely concerned.
“I mean, don’t get me wrong..”
“I wouldn’t.”
“I have a LOT of friends. People who call me their closest friend, their soulmate. But I haven’t found anyone like that. I’ve begun to tire of people. Maybe I will find that person. The road is long, though it is paved with good intentions. I think I’m just better off alone.”
“Do it.”
“Do it!”
“Go incommunicado?”
“Yes, try it. Maybe the results will surprise you.”
“But what if no one cares? What if I’m just another name on a friend’s list, in a phonebook, on a wall, written on the side, where no one can find me?”
“I’ll find you.”
“Yeah, right. You don’t even know me!”
“So let me.”
“I’m insecure. So insecure you wouldn’t believe. Constantly afraid that I won’t be given a second look, though I’ve lived a richer life than most of my peers. But I wonder, will I die out? It’s not a good thing to be just like everyone else, but being unique sucks just as bad.”
“Sure it does.”
Choking back her tears, she said, “I think I will die of cancer.
I think I’ll become famous.
I think I’ll be a household name, living a life one out of every two people crave.”
“These are all good things. Why do you sound so sad?”
“Because I know I won’t be happy.”
He didn’t prompt her this time.
“I may have everything in the world some day, but knowing all the falls I’ve taken to achieve it, the pain and heartbreak I’ve gone through, I’ll never know if it was actually worth it.”
“There must have been joys too”.
“I can only say one thing to you. Look ahead, not behind. Count your blessings, not your curses. Don’t wind up like another old cynic. Look at this light. It symbolises all you can, should and will achieve.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“I speak from experience. Things will look up. You will find peace. In the meantime, vent. Use outlets to express yourself.”
“What’s your story?”
“Aah, that’s another story, another time. Why don’t you let your thoughts crystallise, and put them down on paper?”
She took out her notebook and her lucky purple pen, sat down on the sand, and began to write under the solitary light. She didn’t even notice him fade into the darkness.
Her family and friends found her there at 5.00 A.M., still writing furiously.
She had the biggest smile on her face.
He was right.
They’d found her.

~ by cranialrumblings on June 9, 2009.

20 Responses to “Schizophrenia”

  1. whoa… nice
    makes me think of a lot of things that i used to think of earlier…

  2. as raza said. makes you think.again.
    lacks that dark streak a good way.

  3. Absolutely AMAZING. It does make one think, it does make one feel. And truly feel.
    I think this is my fav piece of all the ones you’ve written.

  4. 🙂 ❤

  5. That’s me. Very VERY like me.
    Except, 1)I’ve never hated the beach in my life. Ever. 2)I’m not rich.
    I love it. Amazing, the way you write.
    Once again, brilliant 🙂

  6. Amazing is nothing compared to this one. A favorite for sure. My regards to the best. 🙂
    Love you Ani

  7. Positive, thankfully! Thank you… This piece couldn’t have come to me at a better time… I relate to it completely. Thank you once again!

  8. A subtle and profound story. Brings out so many thoughts and emotions in me)) And I sooooooo much like the positive streak at the end! You have a beautiful style of writing, that’s for sure.

  9. this is me! this is me! *hugs* ur awesome.. plain awesome! 🙂

  10. It ended too soon! 😦

  11. sounds like me.

  12. keep writing, furiously! 🙂

  13. (it does kinda sound like her)

    anisha, anisha.

  14. nice piece, anisha…

    keep them coming.. 🙂

  15. awesome is the word… though u should have let the title be something different.. making it more open to a variable interpretation… good stuff though… well written…

  16. only 1 word for it “awesome”…u thread together the nuances of life in such a beautiful fashion….

  17. Artificial. Romantic. Unreal.


    And lastly… non-negotiable. =)

    • Thank you so much. 🙂

      • I’m glad you found a reason to thank me, because I’m pretty sure I gave you none.

        Somehow, my criticism is never well received because it never is what people want to hear. I could tell you what you’re doing right… but you know it already. I could tell you what you’re doing wrong… but you’d want my credentials/ignore me with thank yous.

        Flashing my credentials could work, just not the way I wish it would.

        So take it from an anonymous soul, that if this is a diary, you must forgive my comment. But if this is your road to serious literature, then stop feeling.
        Cheers. =)


        p.s. – this kind of writing sells a lot! Just forgotten quick.

  18. Beautifully written. I actually like the previous comment. “Artificial, romantic, unreal, emo”. Never known any person who thought of love as a pragmatic concept, so the comment, in my humble opinion, must simply be a compliment.
    As for the implication that the loss of feeling is a step towards literary success, I am not too sure about that. Feeling is nutrition to literature. Keep up the writing. Great reading it. Puris Omnia Pura!

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