By Neel Anil Panicker

He closed his eyes and saw his world come crumbling down.

“ You are no good. Just a wastrel. Nothing good can come from you.’

And then some more,

‘Go back home. Oops, go back to jail. You are born to fail and there is no chance of a bail. This place is not for losers like you.’

Inside, his darkened soul tried to steer the tracks onto a different lane, to somewhere better, to something better.

But all it seemed was to no avail. The avalanche of emotions that ravaged through his heart continued unabated, rattling his mind into the depths of despair as it hurled and hauled him around from one end of the torturous tracks onto the other.

The mind numbing montage of kaleidoscopic images hit him with their fury. The abuses ricocheted of his chest and crushed against the frail contours of his much abused body, smashing them into smithereens.

His eyes burnt like hell, his veins shed blood and the nerves stretched to breaking point but the assaults continued unabated, relentless in their fury and intensity, each syllable, intonation and tone, biting and cutting into his flesh and mind.

Hell hath no fury like a society scorned.

He was paying for the crimes of his father.

His father went to jail, and he had followed him


What other option does one have if one is orphaned by destiny.

The murderous cacophony of invectives kept on piling and there was no letting up, neither on their flow nor on the vile nature of the attacks.

It came fast and furious__ the abuses.

“Your father is a murderer. You have no future. You will end up as him”.

“ Look, what a joke. The murderer’s son wants to study. Must be mad, just like his father. “

His horrendous world had turned topsy turvy.

Life had become a death trap with no hopes of any escape, a living hell indeed.

And then…

“Open your eyes, Piyush. You have cleared IIT-JEE. Look this is your rank, 453. It means now you can become a top class engineer”

His friends lifted him up to the skies.

The flowers and bouquets followed thereafter.

“You have done well,” they cried in unison, proudly thumping their chests.

He smiled through the applause.

They said he was a winner.

He always knew he was a winner.

He had faith on his side. Faith in himself, in his abilities.

Faith doesn’t make sense. That’s why it makes miracles.

Writers Quote Wednesday – FAITH






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