The Scarf

My mom entered and placed a dozen colorful scarfs on my bed and told me that its time for to come out of my room and face the world. She planted a kiss on my forehead and my tears rolled down over the previously dried stream of tears. Tears that are unstoppable,tears that brim up my eyes every minute.Unable to control,she left my room.I looked at my hat hanging at the back of my door,which I brought during my class trip to shimla, something that I couldn't even wear once. My eyes filled up again.God! Why me? What was my fault? My life is over now. I look at the new pile of scarfs and with all the little pieces of courage in me, I picked one and this time, a random colour, yes-its the fashion-conscious me. I realized things like this has ceased to bother me and my heart shrinks with pain at this thought.I wrapped it around my face like a baby keeping only my teary eyes visible.And finally after a month I decided to face the mirror. Oh my great Lord, my dressing table was left untouched for more than a month?! My comb ,which has by now gathered dust , had few traces of hair. I remembered the last time I combed my hair, sitting in front of my mirror, complaining about my hair fall and a new breakout on my cheek.Finally keeping all my flashbacks to rest for a while, knowing that they would pop up again when I go to bed the same night, I walked to the mirror. I looked at myself, my eyes looked sore. I raised my eyebrows and before I could realize my scarf slipped!I saw a human figure staring back. Just a flash and I turned back, covering my face and crushing my eyes inside with my eye lids ! Crushing it hard to make everything look black! Black was my new favourite. But the image that my eyes scanned in a blink remained clean -clear-stagnant. That feared-image which kept me away from my mirror for a month.The image of a half bald, disfigured face."That.was.not.me. "each word a staccato.That was not me and this is not my reality.As I say this to my self my throat chokes again and I break down. And this time my pink cotton kurta was not enough to soak up all my tears!From my school days I read about acid attacks,I read about girls been raped and burned to death. Never thought even I would be a "16 year old shruthi (name changed), who was allegedly acid attacked by a group of 5 men who absconded from the site immediately."What went wrong? I don't know who did this to me.I don't know why they did this to me a day before my pre boards.I don't know what is in store for me now? I don't even know if anything is left? I don't know what I know. I don't know .I want to talk like i did. I want to smile like i did .I want a someone to erase my past. I want to have my pimple back, I sware I'll won't whine about it.I want to have my widow's peak back which I hated all my life.I want that "my-previously-termed-average-looking-guy" living opposite my house, to come to his balcony like he used to, to have a glimpse of me. I want my life back.I want me. And with all these thoughts, I slept on my floor. A sleep with no dreams.At 1 a.m. the street dog's incessant barking woke me back to reality. A reality I hate. I walked to my window, with my tears still fresh and inviting more. But this time I peeped out of my window more confidently as I knew no-one will see me. I looked at the moon and it looked it back telling me something. I realized even the moon has a scar, and it still radiates beauty.As I was absorbing courage and strength from the moon, I heard a loud scream yanking me cruelly out of my thoughts. A guy who was walking, talking on the phone to someone (may be girlfriend at this time) got soo scared looking at me that he actually ran away.I lost all the little confidence i had, everything I had.I realized I had to end my life as I saw no reason stopping me.I opened my closet and frantically searched for a stole, cursing my fate.Picked my stool and cleared my study table and brought it under the fan. After placing the stool on it, I climbed on it and tied my stole to the fan. As I was tying it, I stopped in between to wipe off my tears and while doing so I noticed a magazine which had landed on the floor with all the books from my table, its cover had a line in its right corner "life after acid attack".I reached out to that magazine and I read about another girl who was a "acid attack, rape and burned alive" survivor. I realized nothing has changed in my life.I always compared and used to crib about the little things I had and i did not have. And now life gave me a bigger thing to compare and learn.I closed my eyes and black was not my favorite anymore, I visualized how will things be after I die."my-previously-termed-average-looking-guy" living opposite my house Will look at some other girl.that guy on the street will continue to talk to his girlfriend (but yea not late nyt on the street ), my friends will go to school and write their board exams, the moon will continue to look beautiful, my parents will regret not sending me to school in a bus which is "safer " all their life and curse themselves.My tear glands stopped sending out tears.I knew what I wanted in my life now.I rearranged my study table and it's mini shelves, and keeping that magazine on it, I started preparing for my boards.I could see my parents though teary, still smiling.I love them. I studied religiously for the next one month.Finally March 2 2013 , the day of my social studies paper arrived. Time for me to step out. I don't know exactly, but I was sure that my heart was not beating at 72beats per second.I sat in front of my mirror and took out my kajal and applied it neatly to my eyes.I finally took out a scarf from my closet and covered my face. I kissed my mom bye And turned to the main door, just when I was about to open it.I stopped. I saw my mom's smile vanish in a second when I did that.I removed my scarf and threw it on the sofa, smiled at her and as I stepped out, I saw the faint moon with the sun smiling at me wishing me luck.The end.