Finding Peace

Finding Peace


It was weird, being here.. in hell! It’s been described in so many different ways, but was just like being in a bad dream or being hurt. Something made me feel like karma was stupid, I hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was in hell, going through hell fire and just the feeling of guilt of being in hell because of stereotypes like ‘you are bad if you’re in hell’ whereas the person who put this on me us out there living a long happy life?

As I lay on the bed in my sleeping capsule (hell likes Japanese concepts!) after my simulation of the very time I supposedly performed my sin was performed, I began to think, is life actually a part of a game where you earn and lose points for doing stuff, or is it all bullshit where you just die in the end and either by luck, defy gravity to go up or have too much gravity and go down? I was in the 9th circle of hell, I was practically near the devil himself (the most misunderstood character in all humanity ,I might add) for not being online in the right moment and being blamed for treachery? Is this a joke?

Somehow the thoughts churned in my mind like those 1970’s first ever grinder , making awful noise. But I found peace still and slipped into my dreamland of candies and unicorns maybe.

I got up when the announcement was made and the alarm bell rung near my bunk bed, I moved my roommates leg which lifelessly hung from the top bunk. I wore my clothes, a ragged overall with a dull gray shirt. I got the feel of army stereotypes, getting up in the morning and doing marching maybe. I went into my simulator, which was like a small shower space , with extensive head gear which went hot after every use. My details were entered by the incharge and I closed my eyes, I wished this would end up being like the avatar movie but this was different, I had to feel that pain every single day till I equalled the amount of pain he got (it seems). The simulator took me back to the time in class ten, it was october , I was standing in my bathroom with my yellow samsung Corby which I had slipped from my dad’s cupboard and inserted my sim . The message read “Siddhant told me that you’re his girlfriend, what is happening?”

I really wanted to say , “screw you, what about those girls who claim to be your girlfriends 4 times a month?”

The phone buzzed again as I sat on the floor of the bathroom understanding that it was a plot against me, “How could you do this? How? We’re over.”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but it’s a misunderstanding . You have to trust me! I haven’t done anything.”

The messages went on till my 100 messages got over into saving a relationship which was practically destroyed because he cheated and then in the future will blame it all on me. Then something amazing happened, I felt a weight in my heart, my throat went dry and my eyes filled up after so long! I heard the machine beeping in reality, in hell. I was crying not because I was sad for what happened, but sad for myself. Because I saw this weakened self of mine of that time, crying looking at the mirror and feeling bad.

The great thing about the simulator is that you can either go on with what actually happened and sometimes at will, you can change it the way you will react.

I managed to pick my phone up, and wrote in bold letters “you know what? Screw you.” I sent it.. there was no reply.

The simulator buzzed and three people came and took it off and rushed me into my capsule .. “pack up” they said as they lead me in.

“But what’s happening?”

“You are going from hell. Your quotient has been reached.”

“I have done one day of simulation.” I said confused.

“The person who got hurt felt it for one day”

I raised my eyebrows.. I had no words. That.. **bleep**


“You also cheated on yourself by being weak for someone who didn’t care about you. So since you finally got it back, you have a pass. You can go.” Chad handed me the little pass that sort of resembled an Indigo boarding pass.

“I thought it’ll be golden in colour” just then I saw a shining light over me.. and it zapped me up. I was at peace.

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Anahita Khurana
A dreamer. Wanderer. An optimist. An avid writer.
My writing is what I call "Tragic Comedy", playing on the ironies and sarcasms of the huge classroom of life.
Happy Reading!
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