As soon as the scorching beams of sunlight force the eyes to close a little tighter to compensate the unusual act of her mother, who just draws the curtains to a side to open the window to let the fresh summer air pass through the room. As if a ball of rage has risen in her, as if she wanted to shout out until her lungs would burst, as if she wanted to get back to the same situation she was in, a while before.
"I was trying to have a nap to boost my thoughts".
She wanted to spill out her inspirational thoughts she was having since last night. Although writing stories was in her blood and she was working on it since grade 3. A diary, her most precious element on earth, helped her grow in this field and still being a blood born writer, her inspiration never woke up until yesterday when she was having all those thoughts about reading a long passage on a girl who was fighting her insecurities. It was as if something has really hit her right in the heart. As if it's writen all about her, as if the words melt down in her veins and the blood rush towards up the chest.
"You will going to be okay."
She remembered how she consoled herself. How her little beats of heart was increasing on each passing second trying to calm down her tempestuous storm of musings that was increasing her risks of having a panic attack again.
"I will pen down and I will let the words bleed on paper. I won't let this fear build a castle in me to let every insecurity lie and rest in me. I won't let it conquer me." As if she has declared a war against her fears. As if she has enlighten a path in herself that was leading to build a future for her in the form of writing. That's where her inspiration begun. That light bulb moment she had last night was still roaming and wandering around in her territory of thoughts.
She sat on her bed straight like a brave alp with a sword in her belt waiting to get commands to attack the castles of fears in herself.
"What are you up to now?"
She was asked by her mother. A question, whose answer was found but she wanted to hide it until the right time, Until she worked on that light bulb moment.
"My inspiration is calling me."
The reply was classic yet sounded sarcastic. Her mother's stares forced her to lower her gaze for the words were totally unpredictable. She heard her room's door close behind her. Her eye catches her beloved pen resting on her beloved diary.
“I can do it.” She mumbled.
There she goes off to pour out every essence of her thinking on the blank paper.
Yesterday when I was going through some hard time, I came across something that changed my perceptions on being imperfect. Well, a lot of people had told me that I'm beautiful yet I want to know and feel the beauty resting in me but every time I try to approach it I failed to get it. And every time when it turned into a fiasco, I embarrassed myself for not being who I am, for not embracing myself. But the story is a little different now."
There her pen started running with every word dropping out and inspiration running in her blood, the young blood of age 22.
"I always wanted to do something to feel proud of myself. And there I looked up to my destiny standing right in front of me with a white coat in hand. I grabbed it, put it on myself and searched for the perfection in the mirror i had. It seemed amazing first. Just like a bud that transforms into a beautiful flower in the season of spring, where butterflies wander around, spreading through their beauty of colours an air of glee, where birds chirping sounds pleasant to the ears, where orange colour of leaves turns to green freshening the air all over the little cosmos of the one who walks bare feet on the grass to feel the serene getting inch by inch in the body. But from somewhere a huge wave strikes over and snatched the beauty turning it into a devastated land. Being a doctor, while trying to pass through a crowd in a hospital, I had to swim through the words. I had to engulf this huge mass that was stuck in my throat. I had to get over 'let this tiny pass.' I had to get over ' You weren't in the class with no matter what evidence you have in a so-called university being a so-called court of justice. ' how pathetic is it to suffer everything alone. To walk along the path alone. Still I stand tall and passed the storm with not even a tear in the eyes but with a bright smile. Let the time decide the future of these ugly monsters. With a striking fresh air, within volatile memories, remanants of some of them started chanting a song full of sorrow to invite melancholia. And I was never a craven person. I would proudly call myself a martyr if my death angel visit to take life. But I won’t stop the war. Haply, I will be the most beautiful and courageous human as I will wear the armor of qualities I have to defeat the fears that are chanting a song of my death. And the white coat, which I had achieved through my passion, will be my strength.”
She wrote the whole scenario with every word draining her energy to lose courage to send it off for publishing.
"I had to do this. I had to help others having this similar phase in life."
Saying this she emailed her writing. She closed her eyes for few seconds to feel the burden lightening, which was previously making her shoulder heavy. She was carrying it every day with her but now and onwards it will be no more. The light bulb moment create a stupendous way of letting her out of her own darkness.
A few days later, she received back an email saying:
I read your story and it was so inspiring. I would love to meet you personally.
A smile spread on her lip. She looked up at her mother who was staring at her as if she was feeling proud of her daughter. And she realized, this is how being proud on oneself feels like. And this smile is what a beauty feels like.