Artwork by Akshita Agarwal

I told my therapist I loved art. 

She gave me a tiny notebook and asked me to take it home and paint a picture in it for every time someone was being kind to me. Kindness is an obscure concept and this was the city of black-hearted people. But I decided to do so anyway because my damaged brain desperately needed the anti-depressants stored in her left drawer. 

So I started my day trying to find kindness in the  smallest of places. 

I drew a wholesome bouquet of lilies for the old man who helps me steal flowers from his arrogant wife's garden for dad's morning prayer. But also never forgets to pluck one lily to put in her hair as soon as she wakes up. 

A venturimeter diagram for the science teacher who didn't make me raise my hand today, like all the other days, because she knows that I'm an anxious little person. 

A cartoon figure of the pupper who was kind enough to come and sit on my lap when I was having a bad day. 

A brain for  the guy who exactly at 11:12 pm told me that I was his 11:11 wish.

At 12am, I realized, Kindness is not so alien to humans after all. 

So, basically, if your heart is an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere, kindness knocks 6-7 times a day, but you don't open the door because you are not used to having visitors. 

The next day, I showed the notebook to my therapist and she said, "But, which of these drawings relate to you?" And I realized I forgot to be kind to myself today. Like all the other days.