I am not sure who devised the most elusive, surreptitious, disruptive and the possessor of all the negative adjectives in the world -'Headache'.
Strange as it may seem, my literary journey began at 13 years of age. After weeks of that strong ache hammering my head, I felt so emotionally and physically drained one morning, that I uncharacteristically picked up my diary and pencil and composed my first serious poetry: 'My head is a headache.' Phew!
My love and hate relationship with my aching head still continues.
There are different types of annoyances of the cranium. Some are constant, some intermittent. Some feel as if a huge mountain is strategically placed on my skull. A little tilt of the head and the neck sinks under the weight of the heavy object while the skull tries its best to adjust the weight and the twinge associated with it. Then there is that throbbing that occupies only a part of my head, it aches so much that I feel that one side of my cranial area is someone else’s, not mine. I guess my intellect tries to balance out the negatives from my positives and my deficiencies overpower my goodnesses, hence the hurt.
Yes, someone will say that medicines will work. No! 'Mind' has a mind of its own.
It works only the way it wants to. When it decides to be stubborn and unrelenting, you resign to it. This makes me think of the number of times I have said no to any reasonable advice imparted by my loved ones to me. Similar to the cephalic ignoring the plea of the sting-alleviating balm, I made it a point to turn a deaf ear to their counsels. The outcome of that wilfulness has always been my eye-opener.
My wilful head, its refusal to heed to the medicines', balm; therefore leads to my eyelids drooping in pain like a leaf succumbs to torrential rain.
A living being except some strange ones like ameba cannot exist without the cranium. Thus, a balance between the body and mind is crucial. While it is easy to train the body, it is impossible to sway a mind. Sometimes I end up accepting this pest of discomfort as a part of me, and sometimes I try my best to disown it. When nothing works, jadedly I forfeit.
I guess it is sometimes better to acknowledge weakness. It is the only door to self-improvement and development. My headaches although menacing and upsetting do fill me with astuteness. Every time it aches, it teaches me fortitude, leniency and most of all it makes me strong to fight – to have a clearer vision of life when the torment ceases.
To sum it all, let me share my first ever poem with you:
My Head is a Headache
My Head is a headache, As it always aches;
It makes my life miserable, Night and day.
It doesn’t happen once, It doesn’t happen twice;
It happens every day, Whether day or night.
I am always in a worry, That it will visit again;
But it is such a scurry, It will show up with pain.
The main problem is, The medicine doesn't work;
My head is too adapted, To the med and its dose.
I could’ve been happy If it would’ve been mild;
But it isn’t so friendly, As it wants me to die,
It's always been acute, Sure to drive me mad;
But now I find it cute; ‘Coz I don’t care a damn!
Author: Kleio B'wti
