I have lived half my life believing, I am not beautiful trusting wrong people and with that hurting my parents. With the scars on my face, I allowed anyone and everyone to tell me that I am not worth calling beautiful. N now when I look back to it, I believe I have seen enough pain in many ways that can be explained in words. I trusted wrong people that too for ages without listening to my parents, that is damn hurtful.
Now, after having the constant pain of losing my parents the only thing that soothes me is my God. I realise that nobody is there with me, but I have a family in my home’s temple, they listen and no matter what they will listen, they won’t leave my hand after everyone has, till the time I am alive I am being held by them.