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Saturday, August 7, 2010

The Thing Called Ego

We grew up together, met her at the nursery of Fatima Hospital in January 1976. We were close, but there was a period when we couldn't see eye to eye. In her early 20's, she was alone. She was surrounded by a circle of people who she called friends. Sigh...I was suspicious as I knew she wasn't happy, she partied almost every night but didn't enjoy it. I tried to talk to her but she wouldn't listen. She ignored me.

Then one night, I dreamt of her. I saw sorrow in her eyes, I could hear that her heart was racing. She was afraid and confused for her future in jeopardy. She was sorry for she had to drag innocent people into her troubles. She didn't mean it. I knew she yearned to end it, but she hadn't the strength to torture herself with the great wrath of the Almighty.

Then, came the proposal to end the troubles. She was unsure for she's been saving her heart for another who was patiently waiting. She refused to see things through. She had her reasons. I know.

Time lapse. A decade after. She has changed. Grown, experienced...a woman. But still, tormented by troubles. She told me that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Well, I guess it has really broken her into so many parts. Shattered, her pride, trust, dreams, happiness and all. I know what actually happened. The blood was real, the pain unbearable. Traumatised. But never defeated.

I've seen her in tears so many times, between sobs, pleading the Almighty to protect her from lamenting her sorry life. I know she's moving on, even though rather slowly, still a few inches better than yesterday. At this point, we patched things up. We are one.

Tales from the other side of the meadow are the outcome of intricate weave of deceit and hatred. One will go the extra mile to protect his name, even though blatantly one is guilty. It is funny how feeble minded people can buy such tales and refuse to see the crux of the problem. If legally it ain't right, then how I wonder, can it be a pemissible thing in this situation? The piercing words of a woman cannot slay a man. Can the pain of the wound she's enduring compensate the pride of a man who has been challenged? I begged her to forgive and forget. She refused. Hell has no fury like a woman scorned.

I spoke to her just now. She's in control.Years ago, I've made her promise to tell the truth. Now she is free from the burden of her own lies. "No lies", she said. "No twisting of stories to paint a clean image of myself", she assured me. Good girl, I said, don't get yourself tangled in your own lies.

What will tomorrow be for her? I say, very bright for she's more certain of the route to travel. No more carrying a heavy burden of sour grapes to kill her spirit.

Soar high in the sky, girl. Flap your wings like a champion, you don't have to move the mountain, but scale up to the peak and yoddle lay hee hooo.

We are one. I know her story. It ain't another sad love story. It's about a woman's struggle to rebuild her life after it has been destroyed by the thing called EGO.