May 12, 2017

The fidget don't stress



Second week of May 2017 - dry, hard, glittering and sometimes wicked heavy rain ricocheting the car rooftops. But I remember last night was cold and I had trouble sleeping - when countless thoughts approaching my head. Of life as a big chance including but not limited to family, friendship and relationship, obstacles and challenges, career and personal development, dim or bright light at the end of the tunnel.

But I also remember, what happened before bedtime was more profoundly intense. Sameer knocked on my door and without even a slight approval, he came in and sat beside me. I could see a device in his palm so the kneejerk me asked, “Can I have that?” without having the second thought that he might trade it with his request. “Sure. But Harry Potter, please?” I smirked. Nebulously, Sameer took my hand. It was a hand fidget spinner.

“This helps.”
“What?”
“For stress.”
“I am not stressed.”
“You are stressed. Adults are stressed.”

I laughed. He took my phone and opened the Stopwatch application. “My friend made it more than 2 minutes.”

I span it. The room was dead silent for a moment. Steadily focused on the spinning, I was hoping it could last more than 2 minutes. Mind you, I am very competitive.

“Stop it.”
“Why?” I refused to.

Sameer grabbed the fidget from me, aggressively and he seemed mad.

“No Harry Potter until the exam is done.”
“Not that.”
“Then?”

Sameer sighed. He looked at me looking very angry. “This…”, he showed me the fidget and slowly, “… is not supposed to make you stressed.” He left me just like that after that.

Dumbfounded I was.

You know, there is no superiority complex in kids which they don’t generate condescending and patronizing attitudes to offend themselves and their surroundings. Also, in spite of the fact that he tried to remind me to enjoy spinning as it helps to manage stress, I treated the spinning toy as a medium to construct more string of doubts and premonition in me. It was all complicated as above sounds but I am complicated afterall.

I knew someone older than Sameer who always be defined as ‘easy’ by me.

When there is sometimes a great destructive, annihilating surge of negative fear and hate and recoiling, “I can’t, I won’t”, there is someone who less matured but worry-free with long cheap talk, soothing again, pacifying, lulling, “I love you. Don’t say that. You don’t really. Remember what we said about love, compassion, happiness - are all you when you want.”

My youngest sister. Sameer reminded me of my youngest sister.

“Hello. Buat apa tu?”


No comments: