My life, according to me, can be divided into two parts - BC and AD - Before Chicken Pox and After the Destruction. Before Chicken Pox came calling, I was undeniably brilliantly clueless about the actual trials and tribulations in life, even though I thought so otherwise. And then the Pox hit. Pain was not an option anymore.
Separation, Divorce, Heart Break, Violence, I thought I had seen it all. Nothing would ever be able to surprise me anymore. But then I have been wrong before.
Contrary to popular belief, I would want the scars to remain, at least one. Just to remind me of a time in life when I was depressed, uncomfortable, irate, away from home, but when I still, somehow, managed to overcome the beautiful disaster.
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