Exploration to self Love

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Dear Ramon,

I was one of those kids who paid very less or absolutely no attention in pampering herself. I loved playing in the sun without concerning about getting tanned; sat near window seats on cars and buses with windows wide open, to feel the drifting air caressing my face and never mind messing up my short hair in the process. I played cricket with my brothers and dived in the mud and got all mud faced or dived on the hard floor and got all bruised but bothered only about catching the flying ball. Being a tomboy I never cared about how I looked or how immaculately I wore a dress, if my hairclips matched up with my outfit or if my footwear was going well with the dress. I was a clumsy looking girl cluttered most of the time with unevenly tanned face, grubby clothes and bristly hair but I accepted myself that way and loved every bit of myself.

As I started growing up, I assimilated how the whole world is driven by the outer beauty. How important it is to look good to set an impression. “First impression is the last impression” and well, first impression always comes from what we see. Imagine yourself sleeping peacefully inside your house and a knock at the door disturbs your sleep, you open the door and find a grubby faced, poorly dressed man standing outside. You get annoyed, cut the conversation short and slam the door. Now imagine, you opened the door and a well suited man is standing outside. And suddenly the attitude changes towards the man and he becomes your guest.

They say “You first eat with your eyes” I can’t agree more. While sitting on a restaurant table, waiting for the food, the first thing that instigates our hunger is how the food we ordered looks. They also say “don’t judge a book by its cover”. Agreed, but when we roam around a book store looking for a book to read, cover of the book is the first thing that allures us to pick it up from the shelf and read it.

I read somewhere that you feel confident if you look good. This is when I started paying extra attention to my looks. I started enhancing my natural features like drawing the outlines of my eyes with eye pencil, straightening my hair and looking my best always. Soon i started getting a lot of attention from people and compliments like pretty, beautiful and all the other adjectives that define an outer beauty and my life became easier. People appreciated my beauty, paid extra attention to me, eager to help me out with everything and made extra efforts to get my attention. Like every other person, I loved the attention and the compliments for the things which were not natural but contrived and it became a part of my daily chores , to make up and try to look pretty all the time, while going out.

Until one day my idle mind questioned me, why is it so important to make an effort to look good in the crowd of nameless faces? Why is it so important to wear an outfit that makes us look slim or little healthy, put on make-up that enhances our features or conceals our marks, wearing footwear that makes us taller? Why be confident about ourselves after concealing our true self and expect the world to accept us and love us when we ourselves don’t believe in our own natural self? Why not go unfiltered, untamed and natural in front of the world and face their actual outlook.

The clumsy looking girl was not born ugly; she was born happy, independent and carefree about what people thought about her and most importantly loved herself the way she was and respected her individuality. It’s been 72 days since I put on any make-up or made any extra efforts to change my natural features and it now feels good to hear good things about myself and not about a make-up concealed pretty girl because i am not a well presented food ready to be served and I am much more than just an attractive cover of a book. It’s not the beauty that makes you confident but confidence that makes you beautiful. I know who I am and I AM BEAUTIFUL!

Reign of dead memories

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Dear Ramon,

And my heart speaks again…..

Submerged in Life’s immortal cruelty

Dwelling in darkness, It feels like home

Light will unveil the soul’s frailty

Keep them hidden, before it crushes the broken pieces down.

 

Flight was easy, never knew how landing was done

When wings were murdered, paralysed mind helplessly just fall

Numbness of outside or treachery to the core

It’s excruciating, but tears deny salving the soul

 

I still go to the graveyard where i buried my heart

Memories of dead times whisper into my ears

Trying to breathe in the coffin of graveyard

I wish digging them out made them come alive!

Spirit of Acceptance

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Dear Ramon,

Here is my second twisted thought about…well, let’s start with

Camouflage: An art of adaptation to the environment some creatures are blessed with, which makes them suffice for the survival. I still remember the day I saw a chameleon for the first time, pacing on grassland with cautious eyes, aware of my presence and with a blink of an eye it was invisible. I was curious and kept looking for it until I found it crawling up a dry bamboo. On scrutinizing, I noticed it was green in color, with few tints of light brown color on its body. As I kept staring, it completely blended in with the color of the bamboo, making himself invisible. I was amused to see how efficient he was in saving himself from his predators.

I thought, how blessed they are to possess such a power but on second thought, does camouflaging make them powerful? We cannot expect a caterpillar camouflaged within leaves, to fight with a bird and win, or a well camouflaged frog to kill a snake, which tried to eat him up. May be its not always about strength but knowing your capacity, accepting your weaknesses and making yourself suffice for survival.

As I grew up and started getting acquainted with how the world really works, I came across a lot of people with a pool of traits, thoughts, beliefs, attributes and perceptions. People acting diversely under similar circumstances.  A person behaving differently with different people for the same reason. Perceptions about something or someone which are poles apart. A foible which is well concealed from one but unveiled in front of someone else. A sliver of traits for a clique of people and a different for others. People trading themselves for “survival of the fittest”.

What can be more relatable than the privacy settings and customization options we have on Facebook to hide a part of us from somebody and reveal the same to others. Does that mean we are shamming ourselves? I never got an unambiguous answer to that. Some call it being “double faced”, while others call it “fake” and “masquerade”.

May be its not called shamming; May be its not black “or” white that defines us. I would rather call it black “and” white, extremities of shades in us, refracting all the other shades in between, each longing for acceptance. It is a little effort made for acceptance of ourselves with all the weaknesses. May be that’s how we camouflage ourselves, making ourselves suffice for survival.  That’s how we keep our spirit of acceptance alive, and an old adage always resonates in me “Happiness can exist only in acceptance”.

Cheers to Old times

Dear Ramon,

Another day to remember the good old times, Happy friendship day 🙂

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Back in the days when smiles felt like happiness
You doubled it with your innocent chortle
Still remember the first night’s argument
And in no time our friendship became immortal.

Cheers to the times when we were night crawlers
And late night ghost stories holding each other’s hands
Silly truth and dare games that entertained us
To spill out the secrets and all the bad times together we mend.

The Late night sneak outs and the late night coffees;
The meaningless challenges and innumerable bets in the end;
Singing our hearts out and promises of meeting again;
Thanks for giving the memories of my life, my dear friend!

The Lost Battle

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Dear Ramon,

Made an attempt to write a poem after ages…

Ripping it apart, Pumping venom into the heart

Feeding it darkness, inside a caged breath

Holding on to the wound, suffering in pain

If I release my hand, it will bleed to death.

 

Repeated strikes brought the wall down

The last fight’s over; battlefield’s no more

Corpses are left unidentified on the ground

Let the Scorching heat burn them into ashes and free their soul.

 

Sometimes a spike rises and dies, in the uniformity of lifeless beats

A low scream of a voice echoes and fades away deep within

 Emptiness tries to trace the path that ignited the spark

Is this the remaining of past or a cry for a new beginning?

I was grown-up until i chose wisdom over it!

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Dear Ramon,

Looking back at myself I realized our life changes so quickly. There is a point of time in life when we have absolutely no idea what we are going through and we lose the vision of our future. We find ourselves standing alone amidst all the crowd. Alienating ourselves from all the traits that ever defined us, all the moral values, all the beliefs we were composed of, we catechize ourselves about who we are.

Encaged in the numbness of our heart we start moving with the stream like a dead fish. We hold on to the situation that we are put into. In the act of finding our identity we become the slave of our own spiritless thoughts. We keep stabbing our heart with the catastrophic visualization of failures of past repeating, premonitions of future, anxiety, stress, responsibilities and eventually have grave repercussions of ourselves with no inner voice or warm embracing soul left inside.

We forget the taste of courage, the strength of fearlessness. The fearlessness we showed when we participated in a competition, or performed on stage for the first time, or stood against a bully at school, or even the silliest childhood fights we fought over pencils and other petty things.

We forget how we saved some time for ourselves everyday that was only ours or let me put it in a better way, how we mastered time and schedule so that we could watch our favorite cartoon or magic shows or any superhero shows or any detective series on tv or play an extra hour after school even during exam hours, even when we were piled up with assignments and homework and all the stress our tiny innocent minds could handle.

We forget to fight back our extreme fears and opt for what we really want. I mean what can feel worse than literally drowning in water but this is how we learnt swimming right? We forget to take the risk of drowning to learn swimming.

Pursuing for happiness in owning big things we forget to notice the little things happening around us. The happiness we felt when a cute little puppy followed us all the way back home from school. The happiness we felt when we could identify a constellation for the first time by looking at the stars. The happiness we felt when we got an extra chocolate on our friend’s birthday. The happiness we felt when we saw the first beard growing or in my case when i had my first actual haircut!

Looking back at times when our little innocent mind understood nothing, made me realize that it at least understood himself. It understood real happiness. It understood Life and blossomed but as we are ageing and gaining wisdom to understand everything but ourselves, are we actually growing?