Every single person is a polar entity, at least in the emotional sense. Where one is shown the other is hidden, unknown to anyone, sometimes not even to oneself. Very much like Mother Theresa who often spoke of utter spiritual darkness in her solitary letters.
How do i begin? I dont even know. All the thoughts awash in some maelstorm.
'What are you doing? Why have you sealed yourself away?'
i said nothing
'Why are you doing this? You don't even talk at all. Not even during mealtimes.'
i am not saying anything
'The more you do this, the more worried i get.'
I can take care of myself, there's no need to get worried.
'I am worried because you don't even tell me anything.'
That's because you ask too much
'Precisely because i care'
I remain silent
'You don't realise how worried and anxious i am?'
Can you stop probing?
And give me some privacy?
And the debate goes on... I'm not even listening anymore.
Oh if she would stop asking and leave me be.
She doesn't have to know everything.
She isn't leading my life.
Surely she realises i must have some modicum of privacy.
There are just so many things that cannot be said.
Ignorance is bliss no?
Then maybe without the stress of opening up.
My walls would slowly melt away.
And then i realise, such a rift may last forever. She being who she is, duty-bound to give, and never receive. It pains me as much as it pains her. We are all doing what we do to keep us from harm, and all the good that has done is conjure a wall of silence, with muffled pleas at the other end which i try to ignore, and yet still reverberate with such bitter sentiments in me.
It's inexplicable.
Because she's my mother.
9 years ago
