I have never really understood the sense of the word in the way it is generally used, or what it implies to. I have read many quotes, been told numerous times that forgiving and forgetting are the two pillars that will make your life a peaceful journey, along something that implies rendering a wishful, sane life. Maybe that holds true, in connection with great people who have arrived on such equations. I do not challenge the theory behind these, however, neither do I hold them true.
Honestly, I don’t really think that I am a very forgiving person by nature, neither do I have the conception that someone else is. I have never really forgotten someone who has hurt me or the way I have hurt others (that is the thing – u always know when you are hurting someone, though you may never acknowledge it) , by words or by actions; yes, the memories have faded and there are layers of my own self covering them. Some scars, some tears, and some wounds simply remain unhealed, paining somewhere continuously, which one may realize only when one wishes to, but one also dives down to these unseen places if any situation/person presents a close replication of something that remains intact in your memory as a not so pleasant situation. There are people around me with whom I have had hurtful relationships, with me crying more than often and much more than required. I laugh, play, share, and love them dearly, for they have also been the ones to steer me in the roughest weathers of my life.. Yet, the fact remains, that I have never really forgiven any of them; there are some whom I snapped out with, while some drifted away themselves. And the few that are still there, the present connection presents a beautiful meaning only if the past is not mentioned. Maybe I belong to a lowly class of humans, yet I find it hard to trust again, to bind again, and if in the sense of the word I work up an association again, I am more likely to jump to the preceding hurtful incidents as and when I may feel I am being poked unruly again.
I don’t know how many of us really move on, forgiving people for making us cry, depressed and vulnerable. For messing around our lives, and for saying things that should never be said. For hurting us, yet making us the Bad Man in question. Personally, I don’t think I ever do that, or I have the courage to go past such people. I resent. And a handful of hurtful experiences make us more prone to resentment, always ready and at go at the strike of three with the best of the weapons we have collected. I simply belong to this class of people. Simply put.
I doubt if a wife cheated on by her husband really forgives him and stays back, and never does the thought of being cheated on again dawn on her again. Or a friend whom you hurt once does not take guard on him should a situation alike to the one that might have prompted you to say or do something hurtful? For, if I have truly understood, forgiveness implies that the minutest of the feeling of an hurtful incident of a person has been wiped off your heart clean, and the only image that remains has no shadows whatsoever. Does that really happen?
