It looked beautiful to my careless eyes. It really did. I started lying because I wanted to keep this pattern. I traced my fingers over the zig-zag lines, protruding and scaling. I looked at it with a keen interest. This work had been created out of a calm fury. Yes. Calm Fury. I wasn’t restless or undecided. I had made up my mind and now all I needed to do was draw lines. I was successful and that’s all that matters. I held on to it day and night, feeling the lines grow old with every passing second. I would have to do them again.What was that you said? You don’t understand what I’m saying? Ohh, well, it will seem clearer in a bit. Have a little patience. I had to draw new lines. So I did. I had promised I would stop drawing lines because it was evident that I couldn’t do them well. I sat there in the black metal chair looking at the new lines. Seems like I was getting worse at it instead of better. My grip was more firm this time but the lines were nearly non-existent. I stopped drawing. I just sat there, blank. Devoid of images and colours I sat there unmoving. She just sat there, like a wax statue with tears rolling down her cheeks. That was the most unanimated response ever. She was smiling and concerned. How can these two emotions or attitudes go together? I just sat there, devoid of understanding, itching to draw more lines. But I realized I am no good at it. But that doesn’t mean I should stop. I’m gonna go keep these in my room. Would you like to play something? I think I nodded. She left to get the games and I still sat there like a wax statue. I looked at the empty corner on my table. Never mind. We played that game where you have to get four continuous coins in a row. You know, you drop the coins in this standing thing and try to get four coins horizontally, vertically or diagonally. I think I won twice, or once. So did she. I forgot about my patterns. See? I’m lying again. Of course I didn’t forget them. They are with me always. They can talk. I’m sure they can talk. I just don’t understand. I should stop trying to talk if it seems to make no difference. Whether I talk, or smile, or exist, it is not going to make a difference. I will still just be that girl who happened. No one ever remembers ‘that girl who happened’ because that’s how it is. I have been there so long that I have taken it upon myself personalize that space. The lines. The lines are calling out. It is in this space that I draw. I draw till I get my desired result. I still have no idea how the perfect end result would look like. But I am hoping to get there. In recent days I have been pushed into this space by unspoken words and useless thoughts. These lines that I have just drawn have no meaning, no story, no life.

It wasn’t unbearably hot yet. But I could feel the sweat under my armpits. Ugh, so much for taking a bath. Every effect has a cause. Or there is no effect without a cause. “It follows that those who say that everything is good are talking foolishly: what they should say is that everything is for the best.” Tout est bien. Tout est au mieux. I can hear my mind laughing. It is laughing. It is asking the cause of these lines. The cause of these lines is the tool used to draw them. Simple. Ha. Haha. Hahaha. Hahahaha. Right. Makes sense. Tick tock goes the clock. Why is that? Now that is because of the machinery inside it.Tiny circular wedges going round and round and round. But not like a merry-go round. I need to draw more lines. I decide to be more precise and controlled this time. I fold my legs in front of me so that I can support the drawing space. I neatly etch the lines, drawing over the same one over and over again, making sure it is visible to my careless eye. I quietly draw two lines, next to each other, parallelly. Parallelly. Sounds weird does it not. Parallelly. Too many l’s to pronounce. I watch the lines. The near parallel lines.

It stopped hurting a while back. A long time ago. So long ago that I cannot remember. When I had built my first fortress. It was a disaster. How was I to know how to build a fortress? It crumbled when the waters touched its base. It didn’t flood, the water just touched the base. I stopped building walls for a while after that. I roamed around drinking in the pleasures that everyone else was enjoying. Not me. Never me. Never. Me. Nev. Er. Me. Ne. Ver. Me. Neverme. Sounds like Naomi does it not? Hmm. So what? My drawing space is mine. No one can tell me how to use it. She took away my most coveted tool. The Pepsi can. It so simple with the pepsi can. Tear it in half and your tool is ready. The metal is so thin that you can make designs on the edges. My favourite was the mountains. The mountains drew lines. The second time was bad. The mountains turned into plateaus. Plateaus are no fun. The pin is a nice tool. The General Administrator badge had a pin behind it. Parallelly I drew the lines. For the first time, on the third drawing, I saw the rich, red colour oozing out. It was beautiful. Three sets of parallel lines. Three. Th.Ree.

The rich red blood oozed out of the parallelly drawn lines.

But it stopped. Everything stops eventually. The other lines look like stitches. Yes, stitches. I do not know why they look like stitches. But I like those too. They are all fading. The lines are fading. I do not have my drawing tools. I guess I will have to find a new one. Find a new one. New one. New. One. Just One.

 

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