Excuse the simplicity of this post, but some stories, or at least parts of it, need to be told in the simplest way possible.
Once upon a time there lived a young girl in some part of the world, about 9-10 years of age, who wore spectacles. She did not go to school. They taught her at home. For a few weeks every summer she was sent to her aunt. She longed for this little vacation throughout the year. It was all very refreshing for the little child, the flower-shop, her cousins, and Mahir. Especially Mahir.
This year too she was very excited for her visit to that strange world. Little did she know that something bizzare was waiting for her. Something she would never figure out whether to hate or appreciate. Something she would dream about even years later. Nightmares.
Karun was the boy’s name.
Read the previous post under TKTM here
Life is like a puzzle. You try to interlock the pieces together, in a hope that it would make sense someday. Secretly wishing that you would get to know this was the only way things had to be done; you try to fix the ruins of your living existence the same way it was broken apart, one at a time. It’s not a simple process. Each one of the pieces, you think, needs to be carefully analyzed and made peace with before you move onto the next one. But as you go on you realize some of the pieces are absurd. That you can’t make peace with them; that this wasn’t the only way but it happened for its own sake and you cannot do anything about it.
“Things K taught me” is a segment of my life, so important that it’s going to have its own category here on Mellifluous Misery. Karun was a boy of my age (six months older, to be precise) whom I knew in my pre/early teen years. I have not mentioned him even to my closest of friends. It never occurred to me. But for past few days, I have been constantly thinking about this guy with whom I have no contacts now. I think this is the time to look back at this particular part of my life. It can take years. And I can only hope that it turns out to be an interlocking piece and not something absurd. The latter tends to be more tormenting, or so I think.