Tag: love

Because I’m Happy

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Happiness. That’s the ultimate goal. We all want to be happy. The moment we throw our heads back and laugh without a care for the world. When we cry with joy and sigh with contentment. When everything feels calm. When life feels serene. Sounds so perfect, doesn’t it?

So what does that for you? What makes you happy?

My mother’s friend was planning on sending her son to university in a foreign country. Unfortunate for them, the plan was cancelled last minute and he got stuck here. During a fight about the whole situation, he said “I cannot live here. This place does not make me happy. I need to go there to be happy.”

Do you remember a time in your life when you were so happy that it was undescribable? When nothing you will ever say could sum up what you felt at that very moment? Was it the place? Was it the people? Was it you?

I remember, when I was a kid, my grandmother and I used to play cricket with a plastic bat and ball in the living room. There were only two rules. When I held the bat, everything was a winning hit. When she held the bat, she lost in the first play. I was so happy. It was a tiny house with a living room the size of my current bathroom. We didn’t have a lot of money and we didn’t have a lot of things. It was the happiest time of my life.

I feel like, as we grow up, we begin to feel more miserable by the day. What we feel no longer depends on the people who love us or the moments we have. Our happiness starts being defined by the person sitting next to us. She has an iPad. He has a Ferrari. They have a Phd. His family is bigger. They are more in love than we are. I don’t have those things. My life isn’t like theirs. I have nothing. I don’t feel enough. My house is smaller. My car is older. And I won’t be happy until I get that particular iPhone with the slow motion capture or that fancy car with those amazing speakers. I won’t be happy until I am loved as much as he is.

“You wrecked my happiness by not giving me enough !”

That is not right. I do not agree with the concept that I will only be happy when I have what someone else does too. That I can only be happy when I’m loved like someone else is. It’s not how it works.

I’ve had some very unhappy moments. But they came from within, not from the outside. When I’m upset, I can’t blame the next person for it. I will always have more than someone else and if I don’t know how to use the opportunities presented to me, that’s my fault. There is always someone looking at us and thinking “I want what they have so I can be happy.” Instead of gloating in that feeling, wouldn’t it be nice to set an example ?!

And often, people get the feeling of happy and lonely mixed up. They presume that if you’re lonely, you’re depressed. But that’s not true. You can be so utterly happy and yet feel unbelievably lonely because you don’t have someone to share that happiness with.

We don’t need that man, that woman, that mansion, his car, her earrings, their life – because you can have it all and feel absolutely miserable. You can be sitting on top of the world and be the most unhappiest person on the planet. Take a look at a poverty stricken area in your neighborhood. I will assure you there are more people laughing there than in that of a fancy gated community. They are not happy from the money. They are not happy from the fancy phones or cars that they cannot have. They are happy from within.

Any moment of joy you will ever feel has to come from you. Because I can give you the best of the best but know that with time, something better will come along and you will be exactly where you were all over again.

I’ll say it now and I’ll say it always. Life is shitty. It’s miserable for the most part. There’s always the lack of something or someone. If we want to start picking on all the things that are wrong, we will spend the rest of our lives feeling so irrepairably miserable and depressed. There’s never a moment in your life when something is not right. Find that. Hold on to that little positive thought. And choose to smile. Be happy. Not because it’s what’s expected. Not because you’ve got something someone else doesn’t. Not because you’re loved like no one else is.

Be happy because you can be.

What You Leave Behind..

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Andy Warhol

We all want to do something significant. We want to leave a part of us behind for everyone else to remember us by. We buy all these things and then we write a will about who’ll get what. That’s the part of us we leave behind for them and they’ll leave behind to their kids and for generations this will be passed around and you will be known as the person to whom it belonged. You will be remembered through that object.

I was at an Andy Warhol exhibit in Singapore a few years ago. I loved the art, the creativity, the small facts I got to learn about him. Spread across many different walls were quotes. His quotes. As a writer, I love reading quotes and thinking about what it might have meant to that person when they said it but when I read this particular quote, I didn’t care. I didn’t care what it meant to him or what he was thinking when he said it because this quote was all about me. It spoke to me in a way that I can’t explain. It was every thought I had ever had about death – My death. Andy Warhol had read my mind before I even existed.

Death is one of the most commonly occuring thought processes in my mind. Last night, right before I drifted off to sleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about the number of people that would be affected should I die that very second. My close family is a given and I can’t stop them from feeling miserable about it but the outsiders. The friends I’ve made and the people I affect. The ones that choose to love me and the ones I presume our affectionate towards me, though I may be wrong. How many of them will actually have a day when they pick up their phones just to realize I’m not alive for them to call? How many will miss me? This was the best thought I have had in a very long time.

I hate to admit this to anyone because it always rubs off the wrong way – I’m a control freak. If something is a certain way, it has to be that way. If you make a plan to meet me, you better show up. Do not call me in the very last minute and say “I can’t make it.” I’ll understand. But I will also be so so annoyed because that just completely wrecked my day. A few years ago my brother and I were supposed to go birthday shopping. He ditched me last minute. Even today, I always call him ten minutes before I leave to ensure he’s going to make it. And it’s difficult to find a friend that is not annoyed by this. Someone who understands and accepts this part of you.

They say a friend is the only person who doesn’t judge you for your choices and sticks with you no matter what and I got to realize exactly who they were in my life last night and I felt bad. Because when I die, I affect some of the kindest people I’ve known. Is that really what I want?

This is why I think suicide is selfish. It’s not cowardly. It’s not stupid. It’s selfish. When a person decides to take his own life, he is only thinking about himself. He is only thinking about ending his misery. He doesn’t stop to think just how many people around him, how many loved ones will suffer for the rest of their lives because he chose not to care about anyone but himself. They will live forever wondering why they didn’t see. Why they didn’t help. Don’t you think Robin Williams’ daughter wonders that? His friends? His family? His colleagues?

A long time ago, I had this plan – When I’m old and done with all my responsibilities, I want to throw a party. A big one to invite everyone that’s ever known me. And if any of them ever wanted to write a euology, they can write one and read it to me at that party because seriously, what’s the point of saying nice things to me once I’m dead? So I just want them to read it. And I’ll say goodbye and I’ll take a little bit of the money I’ve earned in my life, pack my bags, erase or throw away any object that could remind the people that love me that I’m no longer there and just leave. They won’t know where I am. They won’t know if I’m alive or dead. I’d have vanished. Like Andy Warhol said he’d like to do.

Because we can’t live in fear. We can’t keep away from the ones we love, the ones who love us just because we’re afraid of the scar we’ll leave behind. We can’t not make memories in fear of those incredible moments turning into nightmares someday. But there is something we can do :

We can stop spending our times accumulating materialistic things and instead just care and be compassionate. We can learn to be kind and show others what living can truly mean. We can save something that five generations wouldn’t just pass around but would talk about. Would want to live upto.

Because the things you leave may rot and fade but the memories and life lessons – they’re here to stay.

To The Man I’ll Marry

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When I was a teenager, I wanted that crazy love that makes your heart beat faster. When your brain stops working and in a room filled with people, you have eyes for that one person and only him. The cheesy kind with love letters and framed pictures. A love story that beats all odds.

I’m 22 now. I’m sitting in my room, staring out the window every other minute as I type this and I’m feeling rather confused. There are two kinds of people in my life today – The helplessly single & The hopelessly in love. I feel lost amongst them both. I feel lost in general. Maybe I know you now. But I can’t wait to meet you. To smile at you and know in my heart ‘This is it. I’m done looking.’ But there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to meet you right away. My life is too still and directionless that I’m afraid I’ll lose you when it begins to move again.

But then there’s this little voice in my head. The one that wishes we never meet. Abnormal for a fairytale believer but..

People teach you things in life. They teach you how to cook, clean, pay bills, do taxes. People teach you simple, unimportant things in life. But when you ask someone to teach you how to make a marriage work, nothing makes sense. Because that’s what I want. A marriage. Not a big, fat wedding. But a happy and healthy marriage. Something I’ve never seen before.

I grew up around dysfunctional families and broken marriages. Even the happiest of couples get bored with each other and there is not a day in my life when I’m not terrified we’ll end up like them.

I still remember the time when marriage was simply a concept I could day dream about. Today, everything feels realistic. Two years from now, I won’t have a choice if I prayed for it and I hope that’s not how I end up meeting you. I wouldn’t like you, wouldn’t love you enough because you will become the walking reminder that my parents won the unspoken battle I’ve been fighting with them for years, thanks to you.

I will warn you now, I’m not going to be the picture perfect wife. If I’m promising you otherwise, I’m lying to try and impress you. I’m lazy. I like sleeping in, hate cooking, have zero patience for anyone and anything, get lost in my own thoughts, cry in my sleep and get restless after mid-day naps. I complain about the smallest of things and I truly believe that I am always, always right. Any rule I come up with doesn’t apply for me. I talk in circles, nonstop. I sing out loud in a flat voice and speak in an Italian accent to my dog. I crack lame jokes. But I’m also unbelievably sensitive. Hurting me is very easy because when I care, I really care like a kid in kindergarten because I had to grow up too fast and I enjoy being a child when I can.

I don’t know what I’ve told you and what I’m not supposed to tell you. I don’t know if you’ve told me everything about yourself and the truth is, I don’t want to know everything. I don’t want to know about your hot, psycho ex-girlfriend or your drunken mistakes or the girl who broke your heart in high school. But I don’t want to miss out on stories about university and your childhood. I’ll smile when you tell me you miss them and I’ll hold your hand as you frown because you’re not PeterPan.

If I haven’t told you this, I’m trying not to freak you out – I’ve imagined our lives for a long time. I’ve imagined the normality of it. When I see an old couple in love, I’ve imagined us turning into them one day. I don’t know what we’re going to do about kids. I try not to think of that. But I’m sure when we get there, you’ll be the better parent. Please don’t hate me for that.

When they grow up, let’s be those parents our kids are super embarrassed of. The ones that never fall out of love. Let’s always have a smile for each other. The thought of you will always make me blush. Even if I live to be 100.

When you’re talking to my dad, don’t make fake promises. Don’t tell him you’ll never make me cry, you will. Don’t tell him you’ll treat me like a princess, it’s literally impossible. Don’t tell him we’ll never fight, we really will. Like crazy people. So when he asks you to take care of me, promise him this – Promise him that when the going gets tough, you’ll stand by me. Promise him that when I cry, you’ll be there with a box of tissues laughing at my horrible crying-face. Promise him you’ll never say no for an ice-cream run in the middle of the night just because. Promise him that we won’t have a prenup because what kind of a person gets into a marriage with even a sliver of doubt that it might end someday? And promise me this – No matter what happens, good or bad, we’ll figure it out.. together.

Because if you’re reading this, I promise, I’m going to give this my best and try to keep you happy. If you’re reading this, I swear, I’ll always remember that there’s two people with hopes and dreams, not just me. If you’re reading this, I’ve spent hours trying to find this post for you because I want you to know. And if you’re reading this, I’m not going to run out on our wedding because..

When you’re reading this, I am hopelessly in love with you.

Sick Again – Sketches and Photography

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Yet another sick week. I’ve tried to write but everything feels like crap and hence, the third post of this kind. We’ve done poems. We’ve done doodles. This time I thought I’ll add a few of my favorite sketches and photos I’ve done and taken over the past four years. So here goes :

Taken during a lecture at university. I was bored.

Unknown

I was having a terrible week and I needed to let out some steam. This was how I did it. Charles&Keith stilettos that I still cannot walk in. Seriously, how do women do it?!

ni

Taken while traveling. Best of both worlds ? I was closer to the clouds than land. This picture does not do justice to the view I had.

sky and land

This is the view one has from Board Walk at VivoCity of Sentosa right before dusk. If you ever visit Singapore, you have to try and go see this view. It is the most calming thing as the sun disappears behind the buildings and the lights are turned on.

sentosa 

Part of my attempts at learning to draw  human body parts. Being a self-taught artist, I am sort of proud of this.

eye

When I bought a sketchbook, I had no idea what I could do. This was done with the help of an online picture tutorial and this is also the second sketch I had ever done. This was the sketch that made me realize that if I keep practicing, I might be a decent artist. There began the journey that has led me to four sketchbooks, two cases of pencils and large amounts of practice.

lighter

I look for the word love everywhere I can. If I can’t find it, I make sure I leave a little love for someone else to find. One such attempt.

love sand

Last but not least, one of my favorite photos ever, taken on an iPhone 4 with natural lighting and no edits.

temple

Sorry you guys. I promise to make up for this with a kickass post next week.

Until then,

Sending a little love your way. 🙂 ❤

Your Advertisement Tells Me I’m Ugly

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I always told myself, one day I’ll start a campaign against this. If not for me, for those who might watch these ads and convince themselves that they are ugly without it.

Have you ever seen the ads that say,

 “Use this to have long and luscious lashes.”

“Erase away the black spots and pimples that  make you not want to show your face.”

“Smell like a goddess, he’ll be all over you.”

“This lip color, it’ll make you look very very sexy.”

I read such things and I think to myself, ‘So you’re telling me that without all this, no man would want me? That when I get a zit, if I don’t erase it, I shouldn’t show my face out in the world even though it is something that is unbelievably natural and happens to almost every human being on the planet?’

Spending millions of dollars for these unrealistic versions of beauty created with a team of artists and designers that photoshop every part of the person’s face and airbrush it until it looks utterly flawless to convince me that unless I buy that product my face will look ugly with black spots, zits and freckles – I’ll be the first to say I’ve never seen a beauty product advertisement that works on boosting your self-esteem because if you feel pretty without it, they don’t have a market to sell to.

When I asked someone to define beauty advertisements, she gave me one word. “Deceptive.” Oh how I wish I could disagree.. not really.

I’ll be very honest here. I’ve been bitten. I use make-up almost on an everyday basis. But I still have those moments when I look in the mirror and think, ‘Is there a chance that I look better without it? More me?‘ Then I go back to using it because I have bought into the fact that maybe my lashes are too short, my eyes are too deep set and my lips are not luscious. How will the man I love, love me back if I don’t look like the model he gazes at on the cover of the magazine in the newsstand on the road side store on his way to work every morning ?!

Her skin is smooth, her hair so shiny and her eyes so sparkly. I want to wear what she’s wearing so maybe I can look a bit like her and he will see in me what he sees in her. But do I ever stop long enough to notice that he sees in her a woman he wants for a night while I want to be the woman he holds for life? No, because the colored eye liner, the perfect eye palette and the spf180 lip balm have occupied every little part of my brain exactly the way the person who put that perfectly altered photograph of the woman on that cover wanted it to and I have lost control over feeling like I need to get rid of those dark circles that are there from working all night, feeling the need to never have a dry skin moment and oh, have I mentioned the setting spray that gave me a face allergy ?!

Don’t even get me started on the sales assistant who stops me at the shampoo aisle and says “Ma’am, some moisturizers? Dry skin cream?” and I start to feel incredibly self-conscious, wondering if my face looks too dry and she’s pointing it out. Then I get sucked in with three different products and a face wash that I do not use.

Then the “fairness” and “whitening” advertisements. Oh nobody cares, nobody looks at her, nobody gave her a job. Then she uses the product for a few weeks and OMG ! She’s so hot, she’s so pretty and everybody wants to give her the job ! Can we stop for a moment and re-think the stupidity of that ad? If you can only get your life going if your skin is white, President Obama would not have won. Twice.

I used to be that kid that hated the word make-up. Now, I have more products than anyone else in my family. So, give me the opportunity to be over dramatic and say, “It’s too late for me, but please. Go save yourself !”

Because that man that loves you, he’ll love you no matter what. He’ll find the freckles adorable and understand that pimples are a part of natural beauty. He’ll love you for how he feels with you and not what he sees on you. Honestly, try a first date without any make-up. If he’s The One, he’s going to see you like that more often than not.

That job you want so desperately, it’s yours if you have what it takes. And I do not mean two hundred shades of eye liner and the perfect mascara. If you land a job because the boss finds you attractive, know that sooner than later you’re going to be suing him for physical harassment and at that point, don’t tell me it was shocking. You and I both knew it was coming.

Advertising a product is very important. I’m a mass communication student, I can understand it. But making me feel so bad about myself so you can make more money to create more products for which you will make more ads that will make me feel even worse, now that should be a crime.

I have one last thing to say to you, the one who’s reading this. You are absolutely stunningly beautiful just the way you are. I promise. Keep your beautiful heart and you’ll never have an ugly day in your life.

The Life & Death Of It All

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I wrote this post on Sunday. I didn’t post it. I was too emotionally lost. I’m still not very sure but I’m going to take a deep breath and here goes..

This whole weekend has been such a blur. My friend was having her Sangeeth (The Indian version of a pre-wedding party) today evening and I’ve been planning for it for a while now. Last night I got food poisoning. I was so sure my weekend was ruined. Things can’t get worse. You know, the usual whiney “My life is cursed and bad and nothing ever goes as planned.”  This morning I woke up to a status message on Facebook.

Every time you think you have it bad, life shows you that it could be worse. A while back I wrote a post called “The People Who Change Your Life” about a guy who was the reason I chose to study what I did and pursue the career and somehow find what I now know I absolutely love doing. A cardiac arrest had led him to a coma for close to ten months and at 7a.m today ( 22nd of June ), he ended his journey here. I have this shaky feeling that I can’t get rid off. I really had hoped he’d get better in some miraculous way but life isn’t always fair. I’m here whining about not getting to go to a party when his mother has to live with the fact that her son is never going to wake up.

So many messages of love were pouring on to his Facebook timeline. What’s the point ?! He’s not going to read it. He’s gone. He doesn’t care if you both had a memory anymore. He doesn’t care to say “Oh look I had so many friends on Facebook.” It makes you question the concept of “OMG I HAVE THREE HUNDRED LIKES AND TWO THOUSAND FOLLOWERS !” What’s the point ?!

I did go to my friend’s Sangeeth. I not only needed to get out but I also wanted to be there for her. Though time may have put us at a distance, she was one of my closest friends in school. She was so happy and giggly. Her fiancé was doting on her and it was such a pretty sight to watch. They were ready to begin their lives together. Their love surrounded them and you could see it when you looked at them. But even that didn’t help the way I was feeling.

I often feel like death takes up too much space in my mind. Not just in reality but when I read books or watch movies, I tend to turn to stories that I know will depress me and I let it occupy my mind though I swear I am usually a very happy person. But I feel like there’s something about it that’s so realistic. It’s the truth that is inevitable. It’s going to happen to every one of us no matter what we try. But I can never accept it. I believe in spirits and ghosts because I hate thinking that something s simple as that has the ability to take a person away from us forever. I don’t even know.

I’m pretty sure this post is as lost as I’m feeling at this point and I’m sorry for that but I really just don’t know how to feel. I wasn’t close to him but to me he played a big part in how my life tuned out and so he mattered. It mattered that he came out of his coma. It mattered that I got one last chance to say Thank You. It’s funny how you never realize how important a person in your life can be until you know you might never say something to them again. I wish I’d realized this before his coma. I wish I hadn’t lost touch.

I guess the only thing I can do at this point is to hope he rests in peace and his family and friends find the strength to get through this..

 

 

My Best Friend – A Superhero

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“The monsters are gone.”
“Really?” Doubtful.
“I killed the monsters. That’s what fathers do.” 
― Fiona Wallace

I’ve come across different kinds of fathers. The stingy one, the overly obsessive, the over protective, the non-stop traveller, the man buried in money, the playful one, the furious one, the perfectionist..

I’ve read stories of fathers who kill their daughters because she divorced her abusive husband. I’ve read stories of fathers who abuse – physically, mentally and sexually abuse – their daughters. I’ve read stories of fathers who died protecting their daughters. Of fathers who live in guilt that they survived a hazard and their children didn’t. Of fathers who would give their world to keep their little ones safe. Of fathers who run away from responsibility. Of fathers who come back from war to see their daughters graduate.  Of fathers who hold their dying child’s hand and tells them he’ll meet them there. Of fathers who warn their daughters’ boyfriend, “Hurt her and I’ll hurt you!”

Like I said, I’ve come across different kinds of fathers. But nobody quite like my best friend.

I could start this off saying “he’s a superhero.” But that would just be the child in me. So let me talk about the man that would give up his world to put a smile on his kids’ faces, the man who doesn’t have the ability to say no, the man who has accepted his kids for who they are even though he comes from a place where any other father in that situation would have looked at their child and said “I’d rather throw you out than call you mine.”

He’s the person that every child dreams of having in their lives. Even during the most difficult of times, he tries to give them everything they want. He works hard is an understatement. He makes every other man in this world not worth it. He supports, understands, loves, cares and most importantly, stands by you.

Like all best friends, we quarrel. We have big arguments and stop talking for a few days. But then we snap out of it because, “come on. You can’t be mad at your best friend!!” I tell him everything. My secrets, my dreams, the comments on my blog that make me smile and most of all, boy troubles. He always understands. When I had my first break-up, he was there for me. When I was half-way across the world crying on the phone because I wanted to come home, he stayed on the line and talked me through it.  Midnight medical emergencies, ligament tears, home sickness and fights with my sister, he’s been there for me through it all.

I’ve heard many childhood stories of mine with him. But I don’t remember much of it. What I do remember is the person that said “Let her have a life and make her mistakes and learn from them.” I remember the care when I had all four of my wisdom teeth taken out at the same time. I remember the tears of joy I had when he gave me a card to congratulate me for the very first money I ever earned. I remember the silly laughter, the perfect movies, the love for popcorn. I remember Hindi movies with subtitles, Drive-in theatre experiences, our first trip alone and the first time he put me on a flight back home all by myself.

I’ve learnt so much from him. I’ve learnt to stand up for what I believe in, I’ve learnt to not settle for anything less than what I deserve, I’ve learnt what unconditional love and care means and he is the reason I learnt to dream, to chase those dreams and to not stop for anyone.

Like all people in this world, time and life pulled us apart a little by little. But even today, when I have news, when I am hyper for no reason, when I am bored, when I find something interesting on Buzzfeed, I rush to him. And even today, he listens and nods his head even if he doesn’t have the time to be doing so.

To my superhero and my best friend,

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.

🙂

Looks Can Be Deceiving

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I want to start this blog with a little activity / homework / experiment, whatever you want to call it, for you. When you’re out on the street, somewhere, I want you to look at a person and I want you to judge them by how they look. Think of the nastiest, bitchiest and rudest comments you possibly can, all because of how that person looks. Like “Oh. Look at her face. So snooty. I bet she’s an effing.. something.” Any name calling, any amount of judgement you can possibly pass about that person.

Now I want you to walk up to them and I want you to shove all that judgement away and put on a sweet voice and as genuine a smile as you can and tell them, “Hey. I’m sorry if I’m intruding. I was just standing there and I constantly kept feeling like you’re going through something rough. You don’t have to tell me what it is. I don’t have to know. I just felt the need to tell you that whatever it is, it’s going to be ok. I promise, you’ll figure it out. Just remember to smile.” Right before you walk away, I want you to take one look at that person’s face.

I assure you that almost always, the person won’t say, “No. I’m fantastic.” They might not open up to you, but their faces will have a look of surprise and gratefulness. Because they needed to hear that. Because they are going through something rough. They just don’t wear it on their faces all the time and you just gave them hope when they needed it the most.

You can go on and try this with as many people as you want because every one of us has a story to tell. A sad, depressing story. A life altering story. We might not look like we do, we might not act like we do, but you know it’s there. In your life, in mine and similarly in others’.

Have you heard of Humans of New York? It is a page run by a man named Brandon. He walks around the streets of New York taking pictures of people and learning a little about them. It’s by far one of my favorite social media pages. In his page, recently, there was a picture of a man with a cut on his hand. I, of course, judged him for cutting himself like that. What cowardly behavior. If you or someone you know is into hurting themselves, please stop. Yourself and them. Nothing comes out of hurting yourself. It is stupid, it is painful and in my very very honest opinion, selfish because you didn’t stop to think how this affects the people who love you. You only care about yourself when you’re inflicting pain on yourself and that is not something to pity. That is something to despise.

I want you to think about all the times you’ve done this. All the times you’ve judged a person by the way they look, by what you see on them rather than in them. I want you to take a moment and think if those judgements might actually be true. If that person is truly what you thought they were. Do you actually believe your judgements were right?

“There’s a story behind every person. There’s a reason why they’re the way they are. They aren’t just like that because they want to. Something in the past created them and sometimes it’s impossible to fix them. But that’s not your problem. And it’s definitely not your place to judge.”

One of the main things I like about Humans of New York are the quotes next to the pictures that show you a part of the person you might not normally see or get to know. The person inside the looks and the clothes and the cuts. After I was done judging the man, I read what he said:

“I had forty acres and a new home out in California. I was working as a stone mason. I could bring in $6000 cash some weeks. Then I was walking home one night and someone tried to kill me. I got brain damage. I lost my sense of smell, my sense of taste, most of my hearing, and now I can barely stand without getting dizzy. I must have fallen and cracked my head open thirty times since then. Everything I knew has been washed out into the water. I’ve tried to commit suicide several times.”

That changes everything, doesn’t it? I cannot begin to explain how many times since then I’ve felt sorry. How many times I’ve wished I could walk up to that man and apologize for judging him without knowing him. Ever since, I’ve tried my best to stop myself from doing that. Every time I find myself judging someone for the way they look, I stop myself and instead I smile at them. For all you know, that one time they smile back at you, may be the only smile they give out all day long. Why shouldn’t you be the one that does that for them?!

Because.. think about it. Someone out there is judging you too. They’re looking at you and passing rude comments in their head or to the person next to them. Do you want that? Do you want to hear the horrible things they think about you without knowing you at all? Do you think it’s right that they do that? And if it’s wrong when they do it, how is it right when you do it?

Now, I’m not expecting you to change everything today. We’re humans. We’re made this way and it’s difficult to change. But you have to start somewhere.

So, I’ll take the first step. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the crticism, I’m sorry for all the hatred and most importantly,

I am incredibly sorry for passing judgements instead of extending love. You deserve better than that.

With all my love,

To You.

 

Life goes on..

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Today, May 4, is the birthday of someone very very close to me. “Happy Birthday bro..” It’s been a while since I met him and when he saw me he said, “You look bright. Full of hope. It’s nice to see you like this again.”

Last year I had to give up almost everything I had. My plans changed, my life changed. I spent the entire year in depression. Everything made me cry. There was a point when I believed things will never change. That my life was over and all I have to do is sit and just let the end come when it may. Now when I say it, I realize how over-dramatic that sounds. But at that point in my life it seemed like the most logical thought process one can ever have at a time like that.

It’s funny how when something bad happens, we believe that it’s the end. I’m not talking about a fatal sickness or an accident but rather just incidents. When you quit / get expelled from university, when you get fired, when you break up with your loved one, when someone close to you passes away or even when you fail an exam or miss your dream university by 2 points. It seems like a life or death situation. I mean, I get that it possibly is very life altering but it’s never the end.

It took me one and half years of moping around before I decided that I have to change things. ONE AND HALF YEARS ! You know how much I could’ve done in one day? Let alone 500 days ! 500 days before I realized it’s not the end because it’s not happy. That in fact, all I had to do was accept that things have changed. Because the only thing constant in our lives is change and the best I can do is to make use of all that I’ve got. I mean, I’m sure I could’ve sat around another year and half dreaming of what could’ve been but that’s just another 500 days that I won’t get back.

In my life, I’ve learnt that there’s nothing better than dreaming big. Dream what nobody dares to dream of. Dream to fly. Like Peter Pan. To just take off to Neverland. But that’s impossible if you never put your feet on the ground. Even a flight has to hit the runway, move forward and only then can it fly. Sitting idle and wondering about would-be’s and could-have-been’s will never get you anywhere. You have to put one foot in front of the other and walk forward.

I’m not a settler. I’ve missed what many would call “incredible opportunities.” When my previous dream crashed, I had to get a new one. I wasn’t, and I’m still not, mentally prepared to create a big dream again. I’m afraid that it’ll crash too. So I set my goals a little lower. Instead of a big future plan, I set my eyes on simpler things. Things that are more NOW than five to ten years from now – A company that’s not really easy to get into. A publisher that probably won’t even take a second look at my manuscript. I told myself that I won’t take anything besides this. I will get into that company if it’s the last thing I did. I will send the publisher every story I will ever write and at some point, I’m going to write something they will publish.

Think back the years you’ve lived through. How many moments have you had where you thought it’s the end of the world and it wasn’t? No, I’m not talking about December 22, 2012. I mean, you’ve lived through tough times. You’ve moved forward when you thought you wouldn’t. You’re alive and present. When you think about it you’ll realize that all those bad experiences have only made you stronger. Brave. Never weak.

Two years ago, I had it all. I didn’t work as hard as I could have. I didn’t make use of the opportunities. Now I can’t go back. I have to look ahead and I feel stronger than I ever did. Positive that if I could live through that, then I’m sure I can live through the next disaster and the next and the next. Because.. Have you ever sat in front of the ocean and stared at it? You know how beautiful and mentally soothing a view like that is? The way the waves move and hit the shore. The salty smell that comes from it.. Now, imagine sitting in front of the same ocean but this time, it’s still. No waves, no sea salt smell. Just still water. It’s not as beautiful, is it?! That’s life too. It has to have its ups and downs. I promise every wave has something incredible to give to you. A life lesson, a person, a memory.. And when you look at it as a whole, it’s beautiful.

No matter sunny or rainy, draught or storms, the waves in the ocean never stops.. The way, no matter how hard it gets, no matter how many times you tell yourself it’s over, life goes on..

Accepting Yourself

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This is something I struggled with for years. We all have those things about us that we wish were different. I had a million.

After I wrote that above statement, I stopped. For an entire day. I didn’t know what to say. The concept of accepting who I am, no matter what, is still new to me.

I grew up around people who were prettier and smarter than I can ever imagine being. All of them following a set of rules their societies, culture and families had created for them. And I didn’t belong. I felt lost. Sometimes, alienated. I found reasons to explain what was wrong with me. I was defensive about everything.

Recently, I posted a blog about understanding the fact that we’re all different and how we should accept each other for who we are. Sure, it’s tough to do that. But there’s only one thing that’s tougher. Accepting our own individuality. Taking pride in who we are. Even the ones we think are absolutely perfect and flawless have a problem with this. They all have things they want to hide or change about themselves. And I don’t get it. Imagine if we could just accept ourselves for who we are. Our positives and our negatives. If we wore our flaws with pride and say “Yeah. I’m like that. It’s what makes me different and unique.”

For instance, a kid walking through the hallways at school when a bully looks at him and goes “Hey shorty!” What he really expects from that kid is for him to cringe about his height and hang his head. But instead, if the kid looks right back at the bully and says “Yeah, I’m short. What about it?!” I’m sure the expression on that bully’s face would be priceless. People always expect your weakness to be the one thing that sets you apart. But I believe that it’s what makes you different. It makes you you. And that’s not a flaw. That’s your strength. There is a power that comes with accepting that.

I spent a major part of my life wishing I was someone else. I’ve prayed and begged for a different life. A better body, a better family, a better home. I believed that I had a horrible life. Then I met people who had it worse. People who would give anything to have what I have. To live the way I live. To look the way I do. I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve had days when I had no idea why. Why would someone want to look like ME? Want this life? But this is the truth. It’s difficult to accept but there are people who have a whole lot less than you and I do. People, to whom, having an education and the ability to read what I’ve written, feels like a privilege they will never have. And I stopped comparing myself to the ones who had it better. When I felt ugly, I remembered the scarred. When I wished for a different home, I remembered the homeless. I started to feel fortunate. To feel lucky. But those are still just external factors. No matter how hard I tried, the inability to accept who I am as a person never went away.

Until a few weeks ago.

When I think about it now, I want to laugh at the number of years I’ve spent feeling like there’s something wrong with me. In a world filled with people who followed a set of rules their societies, culture and families had created for them, I always felt like I didn’t belong. I felt lost. Sometimes, alienated. I tried to find reasons to explain what was wrong with me. I was always defensive about everything. Never, in all those years, did I think for even a moment that there wasn’t anything wrong. I was just different. I wanted different things. And all I needed to do, was accept that.

I read somewhere –

 “There is a magnificent, beautiful, wonderful painting in front of you! It is intricate, detailed, a painstaking labor of devotion and love! The colors are like no other, they swim and leap, they trickle and embellish! And yet you choose to fixate your eyes on the small fly which has landed on it! Why do you do such a thing?” 
― C. JoyBell C.

I believe that painting is simply you in a mirror. That image of perfection is who we are. And when you accept that person, the world will fall into place. Yes, it’s difficult. But it’s not impossible. It takes time and patience. Just like accepting a partner in a relationship. Forgive your mistakes. Forget the criticism. Embrace who you are as a person. Believe me when I say, there is a beauty in a person who has the confidence to show off who he truly is. Yeah, there will still be those few bullies who try to “fix” you. Honestly, they’re not worth your time or energy.

You are your life, your experiences, your emotions, your love, your battles, your scars, your heartbreaks, your talent, your wins, your loss, your looks, your world, your struggles and above all, you are YOU. And always remember, the best thing you can do at the worst moment of your life is to just simply ..

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Doodle Artist : ME 🙂