The art of Healing

I was in distress, feeling disappointed, and suffering from a major setback. No one values a failed student, not even the student herself. My friends who had the same accident or fight with mere bad luck are still depressed, one died of heart attack, one did suicide, one had convulsions… others are taking anti- depressants, some others flowing in streams of alcohol… and I, nothing!

I wanted to be a scientist… a path of tough competition, cut throat competition… but my throat was cut before the start of the competition… even before I could think to apply somewhere for a PhD in neuroscience… I was declared a failure. But still I’m alive, alone in my hostel, and without any doctor’s treatment… and I still want to be a neuroscientist, strange! I’m not careless… not even so strong, but I have found a way to heal myself… and for me it’s arts. And in contrary to alcohol and anti depressants it has no side effects.

I never felt science different from that of arts… science is an art and there is science in any art. Science tries to explain the effects of art on the brain, and art affects the brain. I’m not at all a big artist… but I’m sufficient to heal myself. I write poems, draw pictures, complete my novel… just without thinking… I just let my hands to do the job, whatever they want. And my hands calm my inner sense, pacify my feelings… and I tend to become normal. My every picture, every poem, every word shouts for my pains… and because of them I get the pain relief.
I want to heal others. That is a thing to be achieved in future… a hard thing, I think. Currently I’m happy that I can at least heal myself.