The ‘sueve’ French people have this phrase, l’esprit d’escalier, which literally translates as “the spirit of the staircase” but what it actually means is the things you think of to say after it’s already too late and you’re on your way out.
For example, I was relentlessly bullied two years ago, during my stay in a hostel. I used to go to my bed, every night, hoping it would end, hoping not to deal with another morning of fear, humiliation. Then one night the bullies thought to take our relationship to the next level. That’s when I had my first panic attack. I cried for help, my parents came and rescued me from there. Two days after that, a management committee meeting was proposed, without informing me, and my second panic attack made an appearance. I went there, I had every opportunity to pour my heart out but all I could do was to fumble and cry. All I managed to say afterwards was “This is not the world I hoped for”.
For example, I have to take an auto as a compulsory transportation device. Several times I had to sit in the front sit, between the driver and some other passenger. Some of you already know what I’m going to talk about next. Yes, the ‘compulsion’ of some auto drivers having no intention to touch your breasts but have to, because, what do WE know about driving an auto during the peak hour of traffic. But what we do know is when that compulsion turns into an excuse to molest someone in broad daylight and all you can do is to pay him and never turn back again,no matter how humiliated you are feeling.
For example, when someone abuses me on social media without giving a penny for my thoughts, or how these little pieces of negativity accumulate and linger inside your conscious and subconscious minds until they become thick as an organ. But most of us just stare blankly and hit the delete option.
Now whenever I think about all those moments I find myself burning in a fury of vexation and despair. Now I want to tell so much to those people, you bullied me to death and you must be very proud of yourself. I hope your sickness doesn’t pass through the coming generation, or to the auto driver, don’t you dare touch me or I will rip your skull off and make it my wind-chime and so much. But the time is gone, so is the moment. Now all I can do is to burn in my own rage. The more you have the spirits of the staircase in your life, the more likely you will be living your life lamenting the coyness, the fear of your previous self. You probably still have the chance to make it right. So don’t let your spirit live in the precursory steps of your life’s staircase. Fight your battles now, cause no one will ever fight it for you. And you will feel a lot better than you are now.
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This is a guest post by Prerona Maity. Connect with her at Pathetichumanoffspring.