Glass of The Window, Glass of The Soul

She stood at her window, staring at leaves swaying in the breeze, but not seeing anything. Her gaze was directed inwards; seeing what she remembered, not what was present. Music played in her ears through headphones she had modified years ago. She played with the frays of cloth that covered the wires as she silently sang the lyrics of her favourite song.

A dog barked loudly, startling her from her reverie. Her gaze opened up to the sight of a kingfisher sitting on the tree in front of her. She looked at it intently, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips in vain. She remembered being excited to see kingfishers not long ago. The vibrant blue of their necks always fascinated her. She saw the shadow of her past run out to see the bird without the impediments of the mosquito net and glass of the window. Now, she could have seen a peacock dance in front of her and she wouldn’t have moved.

She looked on at the kingfisher through the window and sighed. She saw her slight reflection in the glass. She looked right through its substance-less form until she lost sight of herself. The kingfisher flew away, releasing itself from the imprisonment of a single tree. She couldn’t say the same for herself.

She was trapped in a void of glass reflections and meaningless visions of a world she couldn’t reach and one that couldn’t reach her. It had been a while since she laughed with exuberance, exposing her soul to the world, she mused. It had been a while since she cried, silently or aloud, at an injured heart. She tapped at the unreal glass surrounding her. It didn’t move or break, or even shake. It started raining, but not a raindrop passed through the glass that had become a shield.

She hugged herself. She was damaged beyond repair, but she couldn’t find the scars to be healed. Unknowingly, she had become oblivious to her pain, to the tattered remains of a soul. She wouldn’t know it if the torn paper-like debris was scattered around her feet, trodden over a million more times. She wouldn’t shed a tear. She couldn’t shed one. Her eyes brimmed with nothing but emptiness. She stood at her window, with a blank stare and a fake smile on her face, waiting for her heart to open up to new wounds, waiting for the glass to shatter and replace the debris of her soul near her feet.