Karmic Justice

She pressed her forehead against the grill, feeling the soft, oddly directly wind caress her face. It was going to rain. It's about time too... There was probably a function happening somewhere far. She could see, what she believed was, the whole city from where she sat. There were fireworks in the distance. I feel like I'm on a train, on the way to a destination I've never been before but I can see the celebrations and joy at the end of the tunnel already. Shouldn't I be more apprehensive? 

Books, movies, society make us believe that one gets what he deserves. Good people get their share of rewards and bad their share of punishments. Karma. Some beliefs have people punish themselves to rid themselves of their sins. I create the apprehension in my mind. Just to make myself believe I deserve and be sure I receive the colourful fireworks. She lifted her head and sat up straight, looking at the grills. Hasn't always been fruitful, has it? 

Life had taken a drastic turn. Which is a good thing. She reassured herself. She wasn't worthy she thought. She needed more pain n misery in her life to deserve what she was given. Rubbish! She chided herself. She pulled at her sticky t-shirt. The subtle air currents from that window weren't enough to cool her off.

It's a long way off, those fireworks. They seem..no they are attainable but patience and perseverance is what is required. She took a deep breath, held it and exhaled, letting go of that tight knot in her chest, expelling her mind-made-apprehension. You can do it! She got off the seat by the window, picked up her glass that was now covered with humidified little droplets and walked over to the sink to rinse. She undid her hair only to redo it tighter and higher and settled back to the room with an AC. What is the natural sweaty wind in front of the dry and mighty artificial air?  We are all addicted. The ones who can afford it, even the ones who can free-load it. Summers are always bad here and everyone is in search for shelter.

She settled into her sheets and took out her book and pen and drowned herself in her books till she fell asleep on them. 

The train seemed to be stuck. She wiped the droplets of sweat that formed on her brow, Why aren't we moving? Or are we? She seems confused by the traffic that was moving the other way. It was cooking up inside the cabin, Argh I hate this. She stood up to leave but stopped at the door. Where would she go? This was all she had. A little boogie, hot as an oven, crammed with things with just one exit. One exit into a similar never ending maze of the same set of boogies. Paranoid and suffocated, she felt panic creep. It was spreading. She felt her abdomen tense, her diaphragm paralyze, her chest start swelling and regressing at a pace she didn't know was possible. Her hands were sweaty, her whole body was perspiring. Deep breathes.... deep breathes... She told herself. She lifted her heavy hands to her mouth and breathed into it hoping to reduce her hyperventilation.

She woke up with a start. Her drool all over her pages. Her neck cramped and her arm pale and pitted. Its only a dream... or nightmare... or a post traumatic stress reaction. She giggled whilst she wiped her face and bed table. Its over now. Things are better, much better now. She felt a knot develop again. The knot was a way of her stereotyped mind telling her she didn't deserve this happiness. She didn't deserve the warden free life or the comforts of the dry air and cold fridge. 

Why do I do this to myself? Drown myself in self-pity? You are tall and able. You are confident and strong footed. Hold your head and nose up high. You've been through more than you thought you ever could've. She grabbed the metaphorical knot with her metaphorical hands and untangled them like  she straightens a ball of headphones. Prove to 'them' - the gods, higher powers, whoever seems to be controlling the decisions of philosophical justice -  that you do deserve it. Get your dream. Get to your unknown yet known destination and show 'them' that it was worth it all. 

It was 3AM. She piled her books, as neatly as her hypnagogic state would allow her to, onto the floor, turned off the lights, snuggled into her blanket on that warm summer night and cuddled her little teddy smiling, looking forward to wake up to a bright brand new day after what seemed like ages.