Sorry, my dearrrrrrrr
Sometimes we don’t realise the gravity of our actions. May be immaturity, lack of respect for fellow-beings or not realising that it is hurting to others.
Sometimes it may be deliberate too. And that innocent action may become a haunting one when the folly was realised at a later stage in life. One such incident always makes me remorseful.
Those who have younger siblings at times become bossy. Though I am friendly with my younger siblings, I used to be harsh with them in two things. Nobody was allowed to take books and magazines from my room without my permission. And nobody was allowed to undo the fold of newspaper. One day I lashed out at my younger sister for reading the newspaper before I woke up and damaging its folds.
But what happened a few months later shocked all of us in the family. May be it’s written; she died so young. And whenever she comes in my thoughts, I always feel I was not fair with her for a silly thing like newspaper.
And also I see her smiling from heaven – a cherubic girl, she has every right to be in the company of angels.
May be, I have hurt her feelings badly. Because, now, everyday I am forced to read newspaper somebody has already read or “crushed” like a waste paper.
I remember telling my sister “crushing a newspaper is like raping a person,” which I have never told anyone, except who are very close, after her death. But my heart always goes out for a lifeless newspaper crying, “touch-me-not, I am hurt.”
Sometimes it may be deliberate too. And that innocent action may become a haunting one when the folly was realised at a later stage in life. One such incident always makes me remorseful.
Those who have younger siblings at times become bossy. Though I am friendly with my younger siblings, I used to be harsh with them in two things. Nobody was allowed to take books and magazines from my room without my permission. And nobody was allowed to undo the fold of newspaper. One day I lashed out at my younger sister for reading the newspaper before I woke up and damaging its folds.
But what happened a few months later shocked all of us in the family. May be it’s written; she died so young. And whenever she comes in my thoughts, I always feel I was not fair with her for a silly thing like newspaper.
And also I see her smiling from heaven – a cherubic girl, she has every right to be in the company of angels.
May be, I have hurt her feelings badly. Because, now, everyday I am forced to read newspaper somebody has already read or “crushed” like a waste paper.
I remember telling my sister “crushing a newspaper is like raping a person,” which I have never told anyone, except who are very close, after her death. But my heart always goes out for a lifeless newspaper crying, “touch-me-not, I am hurt.”
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