Invisible
Stop that! Rehan’s father thundered.
Thirteen-year-old Rehan tried desperately but failed to control his hiccoughs.
“This happens when you gobble food like you haven’t seen it for days. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror? You are like a hippopotamus with your shoulders stooped like an old man’s.” His father’s words pierced him.
Rehan thought his father hated him more after his mother died. This constant barrage of criticism weighed on his young heart. At school, he would sit on the last bench, trying to disappear. Words always stuck inside his throat.
That evening, after school, Rehan rushed to the kitchen and helped himself to four laddoos. He felt the sadness lift.
He ordered a burger. It was deliciously warm, the cheese dripping. He did not feel so worthless.
The doorbell rang. His heart raced. Dizziness and nausea overwhelmed him. He was choking.
His father eyed him with disgust.
Rehan stumbled into his room. He sensed a deep emptiness that wanted to swallow him. The mirror showed him an image he despised.
He wanted this to end. He took out the pocket knife and pierced his wrist.
The doorbell rang. Ms. Simran, the concerned and kind school counsellor had come to check on him.
His wrist was bleeding. Luckily, he had missed the fatal vein. She embraced him for the next two hours as he sobbed and vented.
“The eyes of the world do not see the real you.” She whispered.
Twenty years later, Dr. Rehan, MD in Psychiatry, sat across a young girl. She had a fresh bandage around her wrist.
He spoke to her for two hours.
“Let your scar be your guiding light.” His voice was gentle as he held out his hand with a small teardrop-shaped scar.
There was hope in the girl’s smile.
picture courtesy – Joshua Earle unsplash
Glossary- Laddoos– An Indian Sweet Delicacy
