The Truth behind Opening Doors to Strangers
Early morning, I was running in my sleep. Even the sun rays had not reached my bones and the core of my heart. I had risen as the sun itself. Even all the flowers turned to me. Even the sea sang a song to me, “Where were you all these days?” but my heart was very heavy, and I was running with the heaviness of my heart. As I was running with that happiness, a cool but strong breeze kicked open the doors of my heart. Inside the door were infinite unspoken, unheard stories. And the heart spoke of a story of a broken relationship ….
One night, I slept with my doors open. Not necessarily waiting for someone, but more often than not, I like to harness the cool breeze of the night. Other nights I just open my window, but that particular day I had all of my doors open. And that night one shadow came to the doorsteps walling… and I had forgotten the fact that if you leave your doors open, you risk the dangers of theft…
All kinds of strangers can enter through the doors. And that night, in my sleep itself, I started playing hide and seek with the shadow. The hide and seek lasted until the sunrise, amidst the play, that went until the sunrise, I found my shadows behind the curtains that kept the insides of the doors hidden.
Ever since I was a kid, I have always been very scared of the pitch-dark night. In the silence of the night, I would be scared to even listen to the beating of my heart. With that vertigo, I would scream out for my mom and dad, and I would run to them.
But that day, UNDER THAT FULL. MOON, I chose to look at the face of the shadow. And the shadow claimed, don’t look at me with love, for I have nothing to give you, only this shattered heart, shame and guilt and mistakes, which my life is a whole mistake.
And I took that shattered heart to show him, as I told him,” Look, my heart has been broken!!” and with such joy in my heart, I promised to take care of myself and love myself, and spread that to everyone else. With all the softness of the space left to breathe, I asked ig he could show me his broken heart. But his heart, unlike mine, was not shattered; it had been burned like a wildfire spreading with the wind, burning everything, it touches. That wildfire was very close to reaching my shattered heart, but it stopped right at the borderlines, and with that grieving heart, he claims,” Look at this burning heart of mine. Whoever loves me, I burn them; I lack the lightness and the breeziness that your broken heart needs. I know I will burn your heart too.. stay away from me …
But somewhere even his grieving heart was whispering from the breath it had held for long, it was trying to tell me, wait for a while, and through your coolness undo this wildfire inside my heart.
But I had never listened to the wind with so much intimacy to be able to listen to what lay under the breath of the fire, of the whispering of the fire…
And when the sun arose from the sea, the shadow disappeared as a black bird in the sky, with the wind, I don’t know where it went, but I wonder if it still lurks in that corner of the street. Sometimes I open the door and look around, anticipating if I can catch him around.. but a lot of sun has risen and set without him, and with this last breath of this cigarette, this love story too..
Is it a complete love story or not? There seems to be no difference.
Don’t open your doors to strangers…...!!!
