I appreciate all my blog mates

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I appreciate everybody who follows my blog. I am thankful to all those bloggers whose postings I read. I read, and I try to learn something from every post. I have learned and received so much support from Nora, the church lady. I never met her, but I feel she knows me very well. She always supports my thoughts with the teaching of Jesus. Steve and Muffin always take me to my dreamland because of their love for the country. Yonnie’s poem shows me some strength. My town boy, Pankaj Sharma Ji’s solution, reminds me of my youth years. We did have a disagreement at the beginning, which is resolved now. I don’t blame him because we are both hotheaded from the same town.

Reading his posts takes me to my countryside house, which is no longer in the countryside. The campfire brothers took me to old history storytellers. I hated history when I was in school, but I love reading now. Everyone is a great individual who writes it on the blog. Everybody has their own faith and belief, but they share a common thing called reality or truth. I am not sure if the writer is emotional or if it is just humanity that is still hidden in some soft corners. Humanity is lost in the real world, but I can easily find it on the blog when I read some posts. I appreciate the Rising star for motivating others. Each of you guys is a unique individual and has a lot of knowledge. Please, spread the knowledge, love, and peace. Believe me, your quote won’t be empty; instead, it will be doubled and blessed with peace, love, and knowledge. Finally, I appreciate Salman Wani of Kash Voice, whose poems take me back to the valley, which is my birthplace.

My new blog mates don’t know who I am. Of course, my old blog mates know me very well. A year ago, I could pass by you without saying a thank you, hello, or hi. The blog was a different thing. I had never spoken to anybody. At work, I was friendly with everybody, but there were always some limits regarding personal conversation. I have always contributed to conversation which was related to the work. I used to hear all the gossip while we had free time, but I never participated. My time, words, and conversation were only reserved for one person. I have never spoken with my janitor staff or any security personnel. They often wished me a good morning or good day. It depended on my mood if I wanted to answer it or not. I just used to walk by them by not saying a single word. It was not my fault because I was raised like this.

In my childhood, nobody could shut my mouth. I had to continue talking or doing some weird things; otherwise, I would be awake all night. I was a little girl who was careless about what was happening around her. I just wanted to play and do some naughty things or drive people nuts. So I did not mind sitting by Baru Baba, the only person from a low caste I was allowed to talk to. Did I follow my mother’s rule? No, never. She knew it well. Yes, I did follow my Father’s rule, which is to continue to the date. I have suffered many times following his rules, but I am proud of it. His rules were very simple: Honesty, truth, hard work, and being brave. Yes, I had paid a high price, but I will use it again. I can imagine those 16 years of my life. How wonderful and magical life was that. Born with a silver spoon in the mouth won’t change the person’s fate. I had stopped talking with others when my Abu( soldier boy ) died.

While fighting for his country, his blood was shattered all over my face. This was the time when I stopped talking to others. Nobody told me that day, “Munna, shut your mouth. or stop crying.” My mother often upset me, “Munna, why do you talk so much? Can you just quiet for a few seconds. This is not good for the girl to talk too much”. The same mother died requesting me, “I want you to talk. why are you silent”. But my mother did know I talk to only one person now.

My quiet phase ended when I met the love of my life after a prolonged period. I talked to him all the time. I talked to him about what I could not talk about for a decade. He always waited for my shift to end. Exactly, at 7 am, he would call me to talk. He never stopped calling until I answered his phone. Sometimes, I would text him back to tell him, “I am trying to save somebody’s life, or I am in the middle of endorsing my patients to the next doc.”

A year ago, the darkness had entered my life again. I had to compromise my Father’s principles to save the life of my loving man. He was gone from my life a year ago. Did he really go away? No, he still lives inside of my soul. Our love is pure divine without any lust. It was a more emotional attachment. He is still the love of my life. I was left with a few options. I had chosen to save the love of my life and disregarded other options. I did become a puppet which was not part of my personality, but I did not have a choice.

My mouth is shut forever again now. Sometimes, many weeks or months will go by before I talk to somebody face to face or on the phone. However, I know it is important for me to verbalize my feelings. I still don’t talk to anybody, but I express myself through words. I hide my voice behind those words. I am a writer now. My fate has brought me to write on the blog to express myself. Now, I ask the guards, “How is your day?” Now, you can find me talking to the housekeeper, asking if he needs any help. The blog is the only option left for me to verbalize my feelings. Many people want to talk with me, but I just walk by them. No, I am not racist or antisocial. I am a free spirit who likes to stand by the people who suffer. It does not matter if they are Muslim, Sikh, Hindu, or Christian. I am standing now with 200 million Muslims in India because they are not being treated well. Don’t be surprised if you find me standing with the Hindu population tomorrow if they do not get the right treatment.

I am not anti-social. I am just afraid to get attached to somebody. It hurts when the person leaves you. It took me a while to attach to somebody after Abu died. I got hurt badly when the love of my life was gone because I was so attached to him. I have lost my hope, desires, dreams, and happiness. They are gone since the love of my life has gone. I am not sure if it was my fate or the actions of my so-called sister or if it was the fault of my beloved man, who I still love most. I take responsibility for my actions in speaking the truth. The person who was supposed to take responsibility failed to do his part. So, I have decided to walk solo.

Last year this month, I was in bad shape. I have already lost my credibility and reliability at my work. I had already committed suicide twice in the last 2 months. I was diagnosed with severe depression and PTSD. I had never consumed hard liquor before. Now, I was taken to my own emergency department due to heavy alcohol intoxication. I used to have some wine on special occasions, but I had stopped drinking it because my beloved man did not want me to drink wine. I had drunk enough and made a video of myself and sent it to him, which he never received. His family never accepted me because I was not a Muslim. My family died long ago, except for my adopted sister and niece. They had given me a choice to choose him or them. I am not a coward, and my love is true, so I have chosen him even though I knew he was gone forever. My family has shunned me. I went back to ask for help, but all the doors were shut down directly in my face. A woman is not allowed to express love in that part of the world openly, but I did. Some people came to help and tried to advise me, but they also had expectations from me. They give you one piece of advice but will ask five things back. Do I need a family who only knows how to take but not give away?.

I have met one family in my entire valley who is not selfish. They are Khans whose Father was a freedom fighter. One son became a militant who was later killed by the forces. One son represents an Islamic political party, and he is in a Tihar Jail. The chief of his family felt so bad for me that he tried to knock at my soul husband’s door. But, unfortunately, he could not meet him. He really felt bad, and finally, he said, “I won’t let you go down. I will adopt you and bring you back to the valley until you fully recover.” I thought, why do they have to suffer for me?. I don’t want the only man left in that family will rot in the prison cell or get killed due to me”. So I walked out of the family.

I had already had 5 car accidents by the end of July, but it was very minor. My suicide number had climbed up to 8 times by then. Some of them did a lot of damage, and some were minor. Yes, I had become delusional and did have hallucinations. In my delirium state, I had run downstairs while my stomach was full of multiple medications. I slipped and have permanently damaged my cervical spine and the occipital part of my brain. It was also a time when I had suffered a stroke and MI simultaneously. My blood pressure climbed above 224/140, which had caused the stroke and MI. Finally, it is lower down to 130/98 but with many medications. I was only on one prescription a year ago, but now I don’t know how many. Everybody advised me that the time would heal. Counseling will help me, and medication will help me. I always think, “My treatment is somewhere else hidden in the valley.”

A year is gone. My suicidal thoughts are gone. Mood fluctuates many times. Sometimes, I am depressed. Sometimes, I act and feel normal. All left is a sad and aimless life without desires, dreams, and hopes. All I have is a great deal of fear. I count each minute I live. I keep myself busy with media. Thanks, Nora, for your wonderful support throughout the year. I want to thank my mentor and my entire medical team, who have made many efforts to bring an old version of me. I am a creation of a man. Am I still grieving? Am I still sad? Am I still in pain?

Of course, I am still in my pain, still grieving, and still sad, which will continue with me to the grave. I still have hallucinations, but I see only one person wandering around me. I have full control over my impulses. The people who went on my path could only understand my pain where I just came from. The blog is my only best friend now. I will be writing about my good memories.

At the end of my article, I thank my so-called banker sister, “Thanks for telling me that the blog exists. Thanks for enlightening me on the new path, but please stop blaming him, and take some responsibility for your actions. Don’t make more puppets. Please don’t let others pull the trigger on your behalf.”

Yes, in Feb, I will be back in the emergency room and trauma level one job.

I owe all my blogger mates for teaching and supporting me. I really appreciate the support.

You are a wonderful group of people; unfortunately, life is too short, so please bring peace together.

God bless all of you.

20 thoughts on “I appreciate all my blog mates

  1. Sara I appreciate you! Your wonderful stories are so descriptive, it seems to take reader on a journey. Your support, kindness and encouragement is greatly appreciated. 🤗🌹

    Like

  2. Hi Sara! It was good to read your story and learn a little more about you. Keep writing and sharing your thoughts, it’s a good way to do things. I’m glad my little blog can be of some blessing to you as well. I hope you enjoy the remainder of your weekend!😁😸

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Sara, such a heartfelt post. My heart goes out to you, i can feel your pain in your words. I also feel like strength despite the hurdles. Look after yourself, you are valued. I send a big hug to you from Sunshiny South Africa. 🌸🌺🤗

    Liked by 1 person

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