By Payal Joshi
You are just walking down the street, heading for your destination. Out of nowhere a black bird comes flying and perches on your shoulder. It reeks of sadness. You try to ignore it for a while and keep walking. But then it starts clawing on your skin. You try to scare it away. You try to make him go. You try everything you can do, you apply all your strength. Finally exhausted, drained of all the energy, you cry. You scream for help. Now the bird has reached your bones. All the skin devoured. Losing blood, you start fearing death. People walking down the street look at you. They laugh. They call you weak. In losing sanity you hope for a miracle.
You keep praying till the day you stop. You learn to keep quiet. To endure. You just walk with that bird eating you away. You are already dead. If you are lucky enough, someone walking down the street sees you. He helps remove the bird.
It takes time. Endurance. Love. But slowly you start healing. Your skin grows. You smile. People think you are okay. You think you are okay. You start living. Because everything on the surface looks normal. But below your healed skin, which looks beautiful, your bones still bear that marks. Scars never fade. But you can learn to live with them.
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