Identity – and what it is. 

I always wonder if the world we live in, would ever get right, the meaning of identity,

For, it believes each of us is a race horse, trained just the way it wills us to be – 
“Girls your age, are married, in our town,

When, are you, planning to settle down?”
“My sister’s son – he’s done with his master’s, now contemplating his PhD,

If Master’s isn’t what you want, why don’t you go for a Management degree?”
But, hey, being asked to become a stereotype isn’t exactly new, is it?

For, into the mould designed by the society, we’ve always been forced to fit,
We’re only expected to yield to expectations aplenty,

Whether we’re ten, twenty, fifty or seventy,

We’re always told to lead by example, or made to follow one,

We’re forever required to be on par with our friend, sibling, cousin, or the neighbour’s son,
Yet, stand up we must, for what we want, even if it means a journey, alone,

Shut out other perspectives until we discover our own,
Carve our own niche, create our own mould,

Because, to seek our calling, we can never be too old – 
Defy gravity, find our own ground,

What we presumed, lost, will only then be found.
Cheers!✨

Food for thought.

Most often, we come across people who change with time. You find their attitude, their behaviour, their interest in you doesn’t remain constant. 

Sometimes they call themselves your best friend, make you their pity project, ensure they have you by their side when they need you and then, they are gone – when they don’t need you anymore. They don’t respond to your texts, don’t ask you if you’re okay, don’t find the time to get back to you – because they don’t necessarily have anything to do with you. And they’d always expect you to understand their absence. And shamelessly so.

People like these, who call themselves your constants, are in reality, vermins of the worst order who drain all energy, all positivity and everything that you’ve to offer. 

They aren’t your real friends. They aren’t those who’d if not physically, be emotionally there for you when you need them. People like these are spam. Delete them off from your contact list, your friend list, your life. It is time you did. 

I have done. 

Beauty be just skin deep.

What’s with the obsession about how we look? 

I’ve always been puzzled on how to react when people compliment me on how I look (which happens extremely rarely). On the contrary I’ve always wanted to impress people with the work I do. Compliment me on my work, my thoughts, my choices, my deeds, my persona – you’ll find my happy. 

Criticise my looks, make fun about my appearance and you wouldn’t find me giving a damn. But diss my work, you’ll find you’ve rubbed me the wrong way.

Looks seriously cease to matter. What matters ultimately is the kind of person you are, the kind of work you do, and the difference that you make with your existence.
Cheers! ✨💖

Let go.

There are people who enter your lives for a reason, perhaps to teach you an important lesson? They consume your time, your energy, your positivity, then suddenly leave you bereft of it all. You begin to wonder, what went wrong – what is it that you had said or done that has led to this, and try all that you can to figure out, to set the equation back alright, 

Only to go through doom all over again.

Let go. Let go of them. Happily. ‘Cause no one is indispensable. No one is important enough for you to lose your sanity over. Let the efforts be mutual. Only then does it become an equation. 

One Liner Wednesday…

Be the best version of you, always. The world deserves nothing short of that :’)

Great Expectations!

Yesterday, I yet again realised how sensitive I am, to words, to emotions, to situations, to people. To people who I think belong to me. It was just another normal conversation, but the over-thinking brain in me found something to worry about, as usual. 

After a series of texts and calls and conversations, and both of us became of wary ( I, of me, my friend, of me as well. What else?) I understood it was time to let go. To let go of the extremely fine thread of expectations I had. To let go of the hurt and the anger and the pain. To let go of the guilt and the misery and the doubt. 

I realised I can’t go about carrying a “Handle With Care” sign in this world, when I am the odd one out. Every emotion has to be mutual. I mean, it’s okay to sometimes take the first step when there are signs of reciprocation from the other end. But otherwise, there are extremely few occasions when the gesture is appreciated. And understood. And returned. Because, most of the time there is only turbulence, disappointment, awkwardness and emptiness. 

I find it easier to bring down my expectations than face the disappointment of them not being fulfilled. But now I’ll have to find ways to become less sensitive, because a) It sometimes become too much for people around me to handle, b) I don’t seem to be able to appreciate the lack of it in some, c) And sometimes it leaves a bad taste in people that it brings an emptiness in the equation I share with people – the pain of which I don’t seem to be able to handle.

Thank God for blogging though, I can pour out anything I’d want to express without any filter. And share my views without having to feel mortified about it.

Cheers!

The Wait…

When you’ve done all you could,

Even when, no one, by your side, stood,

You mustered up courage and hope,

And took upon you beyond what you could cope,

You waited day through night, 

You looked above wrong and right,

Futile your efforts were, you did know,

Yet, your disappointment, you didn’t show,

The wait was perhaps worth it all,

Inspite of the pain, the tears big and small,

Because, the chaos, the pandemonium, it brought and broke,

Actually, strengthened your soul with each stoke!