CHAPTER 1 FAILED ATTEMPT

Life has a number of unaccounted moments of misery and it is only right if we leave them unaccounted. So I will try to refrain from all the sad moments of this story unless I absolutely have to use it as a reference or something else. So here goes…

“Those silhouettes of the mountains still haunt me, if I was ever alive in my entire life it was on those lanes, twisting and turning into unknown bends. Any moment can be your last and yet gives you more hope than ever. It was the first time ever that I saw myself clearly, my reflection in the window next to my seat in the ever so dark night bus but somehow the moonlight lit the entire valley, the roads and the mountain tops. Occasionally I saw lights on top of mountains that had no signs of life and although I am very weak at heart but those ghostly lights were igniting spirituality in me. We need to have few humbling experiences in our life to really understand our place in this world.

I dozed off a few times on the 13hr journey only to open my eyes to a more stunning sight than the last. I am travelling to Gangotri to deposit my mother’s ashes into the holy river. I am a single parent child and so this is a huge loss to me. My mother was everything to me that said, I also have a confession to make. I have killed my mother…”

And I closed my laptop again after making some really tall promises. Killed her mother??It’s so dark that I cannot handle it! I have been stuck for a long time now, to be exact it has been two years and I have not written anything worthwhile. I am suffering from writer’s block and to be honest, my life has not been too kind towards me to give me the opportunities that can make me come out of it.

So I am a thirty four year old teacher who is not strong enough to face her own problems and thus has landed into deeper holes. Let me give you some background over here, I am a delusional woman who did everything by her choice and ended up in pain. How? Read on…

I was born in a family that could provide for my every need; never had a reason to cry but in reality I cried a lot! I was good at everything except for one thing, Ends. This is the reason I struggle as a writer, I cannot write ends.

All through my life if there was ever a book or a movie that I loved I would read its end as soon as I found it interesting then would resume the book from where I had first left it, this way as soon I knew that the next page would lead me to the end I would stop reading it. This fear made me controlling and manipulative to the point that I don’t plunge into anything which I cannot predict; it is so bad that I don’t experiment with anything. I didn’t know the reason to this stupid fear for a long time but then around the age of fourteen, it all cleared up and I got to know the reason as well as the solution to my problem. You see I have always been cranky but the reason for being sad was actually different. Very different.

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