It's a hot summer day when the lady of the house enters the silent abode in a pensive mood. She takes her steps slowly and settles her sweaty self on the bed. She flips the AC button and switches it on the coldest temperature.
Its yet another defeat after a disgruntled work-day - now, quite her usual serve but still not her cup of tea. Of the fiery spirit but the dejected heart - she lies still as the hot tears fall. She tastes the salt in them and tries to wipe them away. Yet her hand seems to be powerless - as helpless as she.
She finds herself a misfit - a misfortune who dont understand the shades of corporate (or corporal?) politics - her naivety erodes her of her own positivity
She used to be a believer - a foolish hopeless soul who believed in the radiance of the career ladder, in the unequivocal ferocity of honesty and also in her own dreams.
But reality soon robbed her of any mirth - she lived away in her own state of exile, remote to the closest even. Her mind had become a numb conundrum - frail to the sounds of every dream crashing with a deafening roar. She found no voice of her own.
She saw all, happy and elevated. Her partner too seemed to be flush with joy - only blushed when comparisons lay stark,
She thought them all and thought them through - chased away the tail of of all thoughts and brushed away all hopes. She now preferred a blank space, where her mind was - she had killed the chatter.
She longed for a renewed chapter - to fill her with a rekindled vigor for life. She was ambitious - but the lackluster ways of her organization, failed to live up to her expectations.
Strung on the tight-line, her reflex seemed to pause her own acrobatic joy - she who dreamed to somersault and waultz into new professional highs - now pressed the brakes too hard and too fast.
All day, all month and all year - she found the empty notifications of someone else's good luck - of someone's new position / designation - yet she found none of her own making. She found the professional app to be a stranglehold - to serve as a reminder to her own folly or perhaps a mirror to ask the hard questions too.
The networking philosophy seemed to ridden with narcissism - the social media site had the noiristic under-belly of selfishness and individualism. Humanitarian ideals of helping others seemed to be amiss from its constitution.
Day after day, seeing others celebrate - made her celibate her own drive.
Her pale skin, lifeless eyes and cold around her heart - made her sickly in mind and soul.
She found no way out - stuck was she like a spider in her own web or womb.
Slowly she reached out and uninstalled the app.
She could not much help herself to change her destiny overnight - but at least enable herself to delete a sign of negativity in her life,
