Black Are The Tears That Bleed

Our lives look pretty mundane from the outside, that is a given. Adding the general lower middle-class background to it, you have a household scenario with your parents always in anxiety of hiking prices of commodities, the immense pressure on you to become successful in life, the multitude of expectation that you're practically loaded with, from basically all fragments of your family and extended relatives. Summing it up, it's the same old routine of impressing your parents, relatives and leading a life for others. But sometimes, behind the mask of the monotonous life that many people lead, there lies something pretty unbelievable and damning, if I were to say supernatural then maybe so, in our lives. Sounds pretty much like the typical fiction you might read somewhere, but let's just say, sometimes not all of it is fiction. The allusion of the supernatural in general conversations of people is very much of a commonplace element these days. And people tend to undermine experiences and occurrence of the supernatural...after all it serves for a nice evening gossip over a cup of tea and biscuits, and that's the end of it. For the general idea, we all know that there are no ghosts which fly around in your room, hang from your ceiling or so on, let's just say, and get the filmy thoughts out of our mind. And let's look at the life of a boy named Anirudh who led a life which looked pretty normal from the general perspective, and yet trapped in which, he experienced something not many people would want to go through in their life. Looking back, it must have been tough for him to carry on with his perfect self while holding to a part of him which was on the verge of collapsing any moment. "The perfect kid", "His mother's stress bin" and many more, were the attributes assigned to him, nobody really hated him, he never did anything to attract enmity, he was too docile for his age, one would say rather a bit too good and polite for the world around him, the weird quiet kid in the class. After a certain time, even the muscle brandishing bullies gave up, people say. "He doesn't even scream, let alone crying, it's just boring at this point", one of them gibed nonchalantly once. No one was aware of the darkness that shrouded Anirudh's mind, no one had the slightest hint as of what he thought of the people around him, the incidents that occur around him, and his cold frozen eyes stared into something beyond the person he was facing. Beyond his piercing gaze, he looked just like any other frail boy with mild dementia and a dry smile pasted on his drooping face almost all the time.