Repair Centre

A week into hostel life & I feel like there is a tenant in this personality.
A loner is hiding somewhere behind that excessively jolly visage.
I look at that face and something pierces me.
Something invisible & something painful.
That person is fake. Trying so hard to be THAT someone that they aren't.
Trying so hard so push life into dead situations.
Trying even harder to smile her way through things which she knows will not work.
It's like she has been given an appliance that won't work and she tries her best to hit that machine, throw it around make it work. But it won't.
It is like every situation in her life is like that appliance, refusing to work out.
I try to run a finger over that face. It feels cold. It is my face.

So I lament. Cry. Scream. Do all that I can to make it work.
Spend almost all my day in that exasperated situation.

But then I start writing.
My mind clears up.
"The clouds burst forth & it began raining".
That rain soothed the roughened edges of my mind.
Quenched that pained, thirsty side with an answer.
I had tried everything but this-

I put in new batteries into the appliance.