Page 67 - Magazine 2020-2021 Final.cdr

The End of the Road

Aanchal Bolar (FYBFM)

five inches taller than Sara.
Sara gulped and managed to murmur, 'Who are you?'

'Me?' said the lady. 'I am the creator of this place and the world too.'

Stars twinkled in the lady's eyes and it somehow calmed Sara down. But then, Sara realized, if she had killed herself
and was sure she had died until she woke up in this place, and this lady...

“Are you trying to tell me that you are God?' blurted Sara. “And is this place...heaven?” She regretted her words as
soon as she uttered them. Her cheeks flushed heavily as she realized how insane and stupid she sounded.
The lady, however, smiled politely and said, “Yes and no. This is not exactly heaven, but a wonderful village created
for all the good and kind people who suffered in life and freed themselves. People who wanted nothing more than
death to acquire tranquillity. Such people, like you Sara, come here to live a happy death.”

“So,” asked Sara, “there's a place for horrible and unkind people who commit suicide as well?”
“Yes, there are people who commit bad sins and then kill themselves to avoid facing the consequences. But I do not
know what happens to them as they are handled by my colleague, Satan. I am sure you have heard of him. Now, I
want you to forget about them and every other problem in your life and just go out in that village and be happy. You
have suffered a lot. Now go, have a happy death.”
And with that, the lady vanished. And Sara, for the first time in years, dipped back her head and laughed
genuinely…laughed with a fierce joy in her heart. She was free at last.

Thoughts

Aanchal Bolar (FYBFM)

It overpowers me, it stresses me.
A huge bag of confusion and self-doubt, it destroys me.

A petite ball of fur, seems like a gargantuan monster to me,
an overthinking cloud propped upon my head, my thoughts suffocate me.

Puny fears buried deep in my gut, make my heartbeat ricochet off the wall.
A tsunami of anxiety approaches me, but I take its' hit bravely standing tall.

Hardly struggling, the bubble of anxiety has a rendezvous with my mind.
Cold-hearted, my thoughts then say to me, "Buckle up, we won't be kind!"

Reaching out for a gasp of air, the idea of my messed-up head frustrates me.
An anxious cloud propped upon my head, my thoughts suffocate me.

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