Strangers

Strangers . . . !

We meet Strangers in every walk of our life, there goes no day in asphalt road of life you do not come across the one, and we get exposed to unlimited possibilities to meet the only one, Stranger. Strangers are the ones whom we do not know, they are totally novel persons with no clue of what they are capable of doing to you. Good or bad, the worst or the best. Not even a smidgen of idea of their abilities that can either rip you apart from your very own life mercilessly right in front of you without even feeling a tiny amount of guilt in their minds or they can make your life stronger and more beautiful. Some of those strangers have ability to gift you love. They can be your life saviors or your worst nightmares.

My story is not that different. I met a number of strangers in my walk of life, some of them are saints, angels, wingless angels on earth, messengers, helpers, massayas, God fathers. But . . . some of them are egomaniac, lust driven, brutally selfish, hypocritically insane, psychopaths who have done an unimaginable evil to me, to make my life hell and tried to disparage my name, and tried even harder to expunge me. Some of them were worse they wore disguised as friends, and gained my trust then without even a soupcon of humanity or compassion they stabbed me right behind my back, the worst part is they hurt me so bad just with their imagination and creativity. They created all sorts of weird stories and gossips and then spread it like a virus of plague.

Well, I do not find any fault in these strangers, they are simply psychopaths, sons of Lucifer, what else can we expect from the children of Lucifer, the father of Satan. It is my bad choice to befriend them, I was innocent, so innocent that I never believed their existence, did not even had a pinch of clue that evil exists in the human heart, I never even thought that a human heart is capable of committing so horrible and unforgivable crime towards their own friends, me, or say a girl who shown compassion to them, a girl who tried to see only good in them, a girl who tried to forgive the bad in them, a girl who choose to befriend them thinking they have to be given a chance to let their goodness come out of their heart.

But . . . instead of thanking me they hurt me, hurt me very hard and deep, they simply exploited me or say tried to exploit me, they used my name and my fears, they used me, my work and my talent. They are indeed devils. I got scared, I got frightened, and after all I am a girl, a weak, simple, and innocent, with no capability to hurt others, but endure their evilness. I discerned one thing the pain I had to go through did not go in vain. Not gone with wind. I learnt that evil exists in this our own world, disguised as good friends, or colleagues personified as humans, fellow mates who act each and every time you meet them daily as good, but indeed they are opposite. The most scaring part is they hurting merely with their words, their imagination and ability to create a story out of thin air, just like that without any kind of association and correlation to any of the facts. Their incapability to see things straight and their minds incapability to fathom the alibis are the reasons behind this kind of narration. Well, it is God’s gift that I was not that badly hurt. In deed God does not want an innocent girl to suffer. His ways of work are totally different.

I forgot one simple equation, If there wasn't evil in every single one out there you see they wouldn't be people; they would all be angels.

This is just an one side of my story. On the contrary I met some strangers who turned to be the messengers of God’s to help me survive, fight the war without any hesitation. This part of strangers are my angels, they are wingless angels who saved me from my problems. This is the best part of my life. These strangers are the God’s boon to me. Each and every time when I got into trouble, or was disabled to fight my life’s fight, I prayed to be rescued and even prayed to give me strength to bear the failure. God not only listened to my prayers but also he reacted to those, and He immediately sent people to rescue me. He gave unimaginable power to with stand the worse, and courage to fight back, He always squelch the fear in me. Sometimes He takes over the control from me, makes it right and gives it back to me.

After all this I would not have a single memory of what actually happened. I did that, no He did that for me. I am damn sure, He did those impossible things that I would never have done, not with my kid like mind. He makes it do with me, by making me meet Strangers, strangers who are sent to give me the emotional strength and schooling, teaching me life lessons with their words. Once they are done with their job, they leave and go towards their destination. I am still a baby. Learning to be a soldier in this battlefield called life. I wanna triumph this land of life with flying colors. Other wise I wanna die a hero death fighting it.

There are strangers who gave me beautiful memories to hold on. Some of them gave me the best thing in any one’s life love, selfless, innocent love, which used to startle me. I keep wondering what I have done to deserve their love. There are few strangers, who just loved me for what I am, they were scared in the starting but latter, they just loved me. There are ones who taught me how to survive, their role was just a hour in my life. Strange but that one hour always turned out to be my best learning, I never even thought that this one hour talk would turn into my only way to pass my exam. This one hour used to turn my life into most amazing garden of success. The best part is I never gave any stranger permission to talk, they themselves interfere into my work and say, you need to learn this. I used to open my mouth in startle, because, the previous day I was seeking God for the solution to my very existing predicament..

If it is not called as miracle, what is called? No reason, just like that I not only earned love but also sometimes hatred from these strangers. Nonetheleass I am still scared of strangers. I cannot avoid meeting them . . . no option to choose out. Or say not my choice to make.

. . . Strangers, they are ineffable, or hellacious or abominable or total incredible people, with a ability to either make you or break you.

This is my story; what's your story?