His Favourite Book

Chapter 49 - For The Girls

Trigger Warning: Cuss words and Mentions of self-harm
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Be a Good Daughter. A good girl. Listen carefully to the elders. Do what they say. Don't do what they disapprove of. Obey. Conform. Smile throughout. You're a girl. You're supposed to brighten up everyone's mood by smiling and glowing. Look good, always. Take care of everyone and everything with no breaks or rest.

These are the words many girls have grown up with. Nope, they don't mind indulging themselves in the said actions. Not at all. What they, however, mind is, having their personality and life forcefully revolve around the same things over and over.

Aashna was here to smile and uplift the world's mood. Even, at times, at the cost of her own mood. But not if the other party thinks of her as some happiness-inducing machine. She was here to take care of everyone and everything. But when she had to sacrifice her own identity in the process of doing so, she stepped back. It was a long step, that separated her from her family and childhood, brutally and beyond repair. Every time she tried to fix one piece, the other side of the jigsaw puzzle shattered dropping down. It was almost impossible for a 3-year-old adult like her to extend her hands everywhere and regulate everything like those amazing teenagers from fantasy novels would do.

Aashna, labelled as the best daughter in her childhood neighbourhood, had grown up looking out for everyone around her. Her parents, her extended family and even her neighbours, one of which, was Girisha, later gaining the title of Aashna's best friend. There was a time when Girisha was at the lowest point in her life. Not because of academics, but because she had dared to convey something so against the laws of the society, that she was on the verge of getting barred from her own species. No one around her was ready to stick with Girisha, except one person. Aashna, that is.

Aashna, after passing her 12th grade with flying colours, had a vision that she would be able to do what she loved, with no restrictions from anyone whatsoever. It did not take even a full second for her smile to drop dead when she witnessed the upgraded expectations from her elders, fall on her like a landslide. The standards were not gone. They were, in fact, levelled up. Her family, and everyone else she talked to, wanted her to study business like her best friend, Girisha. Abhimanyu was right. It was a heavy, money-minded world they were involuntarily a part of.

She tried. Holding her heart pressed under a rock, she still tried studying what was never her forte, with all her energy buried into it. All of it, only to not let her parents down. Because she was a 'good daughter'. That year saw Aashna in a version of hers, that never existed and was crafted intricately by the society. All the nights full of tears, hasty blood in her veins, and anger outbursts, filled this phase of her life when even Girisha fell helpless.

Self-harm, suicide, aggressive outbursts- these are extreme reactions. Rarely do they ever occur with a fleeting emotional action. An accumulation of years of suppressed feelings, thoughts, and revolts leaves the inner, the real 'you', yearning for an escape. When it cannot, it finally, after constant torture, leads you to make unhealthy decisions. The same happened with Abhimanyu when after years of complying with his family, he finally isolated himself in his room, where his curiosity about the pleasure of self-harm grew in him.

As for Aashna, that year, when she let herself get injured, proved to be one of the worst years of her life. As they say, your weakness should always stay hidden. She did everything— from harming herself to thinking about getting into a road accident 'accidentally'— that could distract her from the unwanted life she was preparing for. She found herself incapable of envisioning a life she would never be happy in. All the scars, cuts, and attempts only saw the light of her upper arm and body parts that she could easily hide from the world. Further, a decent combination of long-sleeved kurtis and jackets over them became an accomplice in her secret.