Clare
Catharsis: Its Faces and Feels
by Tasnima Iqbal
Catharsis? Well, it’s a boggart which takes all sorts of shapes, colours, and forms at all different times, however, not to scare or harm but to heal and soothe. Sometimes it’s the stormy ocean waves bursting out through furious tears and wails bringing out the wild turbulence inside to gradually walk you towards numbness and serenity. On the other days when you open your heart to someone with flurry words to take it all out, catharsis takes the form of chirping birds hurriedly coming out of the dark closed cage seeing the light for the first time. Sometimes it’s the spark igniting the fire within, kindling your spirits, and letting the emotions break free through art, melody, poetry and what not? On the days when you can’t cry, speak, or glow, it transforms into dry cold wind making way for the emotions to channel through sighs and deep breaths.
Then what? No matter what form it takes, it brings immediate tranquillity, numbness, and relief. It’s like being able to breathe again after holding your breath for so long, like putting down the heavy burden you were carrying for eternity, like the first ray of sunshine after that never ending rain, like falling into a soothing sleep after a long day. It relieves you from the present agony and makes you ready for the future ones, for as long as life remains so remains pain. And it goes on like a cycle till we live, breathe, and survive.
