THE GAG SUCCESS OF A STRESSED SURVIVOR

By Sukrutha Sunder

It was in scorching daylight she bled out to give birth. The initial cry of that infant was

happiness. She grew with happiness and hopes, love and care. As she grew, those hands to care turned the beast's nailed weapon. The elderly infant in her yelled out in pain and strain. No one to hear, no one to tell the truth. Days passed with graphs down. What was happening? She thought and rethought. But her body became her demon. Was it my father? She could not resist the fear, to open it up. Days passed. It was the day when everyone around enjoyed their excursion. She kept reading her diary of those molested nights.

Tears rolled down her face. From the studious to the silent, she just lost herself.

When the truth was revealed, no one patted her with safety and efficacy but just threw

her like a cursed piece of cloth. How can a teen come across this? She was into negative thoughts and loneliness. As she grew, she was forced to fit into the four walls of a boarding. From there, she gained the abusive resistance of life. She was not ready to go with what was haunting.

"Pen is mightier than the sword." She believed those words and started to see them up-

close. She caught them to fit into her beautiful writings and speeches.

The young orator was build in the blood of self-love and care.

I feel proud of that survivor. When I met her, she was nothing. But today, I find myself

proud to tell about her. She is my best friend moreover my sponsor. I do not know what

gave her the strength to face all these, but she is one of a kind. I always felt I was immature to deal with or hear her struggles. But now I know silence does not make one worthless; it can rebuild people to their best.

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