This is how it is..

These days I walk with my head held low, aiming to study the stones that everybody steps on, trying to concentrate on the weeds so unwanted, wanting to give them some attention too, for they are usually left forgotten, and when they are noticed, they are kicked away from the way or plucked away from the rest of the good ones around, so that they don't get seen, because they don't gel in with the better ones around.

These days my smiles aren't genuine, they are forced out to humour people who smile at me, people who think everything is still smooth and fine in my life, at people who crave to have someone smile at them, at my family from whom I hide my sorrow because I don't want them to be worried or to come to me with cheer-up advices; these days my laughter doesn't echo like before.

These days, I am being judged, scrutinized, scanned, criticized, rebuked, warned and left with a feeling that everything is going to come to an end, that my source of happiness will be snatched away from me, that my smiles will disappear permanently, that life will become meaningless, that I wouldn't mind it if life left me behind to rot on this cruel loveless land.

These days, I wish I were robotic, that I wouldn't feel for things, for people, that I wouldn't get attached to them so easily, that letting go would be no mean task for me, that I'd really not care for them.

These days I ask Him why I was born Indian.