Doors Closed

“If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite”.

- William Blake

I stared at this quote for an entire hour before I got myself to write about it. Ever since we had the capability to understand the life around us, we were always taught to perceive things a certain way. Regardless of how open-minded and free-spirited we claim to be, at the end of the day there is one aspect that bonds us all together - the need to be pass a judgment.

Don’t be shaking your head at my words, but slowly try to accept the bitter truth. Ever thought that being judgmental is something we were actually taught as kids? Imagine a past where your parents did not warn you against certain types of people in this world. Imagine a childhood where you weren’t taught to see certain situations a certain way. Imagine a life where it did not matter what you say or do or wear because everything would be considered ‘normal’.

I am not denying that these life lessons have not made us who we are. I do admit that without the morals and values passed on to us, there would be some flaws in our upbringing. But IMAGINE a world where you weren’t told what was right and what was not. There wouldn’t be any racism, no discrimination, no biased opinions, and no judgments.  A girl with a cigarette in her hand, being around a bunch of boys would not be a slut. Parents would not advise their daughters about the boys who live on beer and alcohol. BECAUSE THERE WOULD BE NO STEREOTYPES! There would be no difference between Blacks, Whites, and Asians, because only one culture would exist - individuality.

We wouldn’t judge people for the way they appeared to be, but how they treated us. We’d appreciate people more probably because no one would have the need to be somebody they are not. Nobody would be scared of being an outcast, and afraid of common fate (Tupac Shakur would be so proud of me today)!

I hope that as a parent I don’t ever bind my children’s imagination. That they can be free to choose on their own between what is right, and what they want to make right. That no dream is too big, and that they can never be too old to dream a new dream. I hope that as an individual I don’t ever be-little anyone’s ambitions. Because your imagination is sometimes all you’ll ever have. So set it free and let it runaway :)

SORRY I grew up too fast, Ma

In every picture or video that I see which takes me back to my childhood, I notice myself clinging on to my mother’s arm. If a picture was being taken without my consent (yes my ‘consent’ was needed even at an early age!), I’d hide behind her back, or bury myself under the folds of her sari. But I’d always be there - right next to her.

Now that I flip through the pictures on my phone, I cannot seem to find any picture with my mother! The pictures on my phone card utilize hundreds of megabytes and NOT ONE of them is with my mother. How and when did things change so much? :/

To this very day, Ma has been my support system. I know many mothers who would hesitate to defend their children in front of other family members, just to ensure good family ties. But my mother isn’t one of them. I know many mothers who would restrict their daughters (I’m saying this because I come from an Asian background where girls and boys mingling together can be a big deal) when it comes to keeping friends from the opposite sex. But Ma? She can never be one of them. On the contrary, just last week she helped me bake cupcakes for all my friends, even when she noticed that the name on the cake belonged to a boy. She has never shown any signs of doubt when I talk to her about the world I see in my dreams. She believes in them even more than I do. She has never said that my ideas are unrealistic, because she believes in the power of my thoughts. She always reminds me that I’m capable of so much more than I can ever imagine being.

She was the one who would wake up in the middle of the night and get me apple juice when I was admitted to the hospital; just because she thought there might be a possibility of me craving for juice when my eyes open! Even when I come home late from a concert, or an outing, she’ll stay up till 2am if she has to, just to make sure I don’t go to bed on an empty stomach. She is the reason I write today because if it wasn’t for her, I’d be oblivious to my writing skills. She was the one who bought me my first journal so I could record my “pretty thoughts” and cherish that point of time.

Ma and I are two completely different people with barely much in common. She likes white because it’s a subtle and pure color. And I love red because it’s bold and powerful. She’s sensitive to emotions and cries when her heart wants to. I avoid emotions and have too much ego to let go of tears. Yet despite our differences and conflict in opinions, she’s my sole back-up and I’m the very core of her mental strength.

I’m sorry Ma, for being too engrossed in my life that I didn’t pay attention to the new recipe you learnt. I’m sorry Ma, for coming home late and stealing away your sound sleep. I’m sorry Ma, for all that you have to endure because of my careless nature. I’m sorry Ma, that you don’t get to see me around as much because I always have “other things” to do. I’m sorry Ma, that my shoulder is not strong enough to help you lift your burdens. I’m sorry Ma, for growing up way too fast.

Karma will always be the bigger B*tch

Like many have probably understood from my few blog posts that I am not someone who has had trouble making friends. I do boast about my extroverted nature on many occasions. But what I did realize today is that there is a MAJOR difference between making friends, and keeping them. And this realization of mine, just managed to b*tch-slap me.

My friends tend to tell me I am an awesome person; that I have made a difference in their lives; that I have given them all way too much love and dedication. And everytime I hear something along these lines; I can say nothing in reply but smile to myself. I know for a fact that when I stand in front of the mirror and confront myself, I do not see the person that my friends speak so highly of. But before you judge me as someone who probably underestimates herself for gaining sympathy, let me tell you that I am exactly the opposite! Modesty has never been one of my traits so I always take pride in the way I am, but this time it was time for some serious confrontation.

I can be two-faced and you wouldn’t even know it; I can gossip till the end of this world and you’ll be amused by the amount I actually know; I can be your foe if you manage to tick me off, but I can also be your best friend if you decide to bake me cookies. I am a person of endless secrets. Someday I could write a book about my life and social circles by the name of “Anonymous”, although I am no celebrity who has anything to lose even if my identity is known; but that is exactly how I am. I am no different from the girls that cause uproar in those teenage dramas. But you’ll never get to know any of this, because I won’t ever show it to you. Yes, I am two-faced like that, and I CAN relate to Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

So when my friends - even the closest of my friends - claim to know me, I know deep down that I am a bad friend for letting them believe that. I know that’s a harsh feeling to confront because today when I wanted to speak to someone, to have someone listen to me, I realized that I don’t have much to say. It’s hard to express when you’ve held on to so much for so long. And even if I did try, I wouldn’t know where to begin!

My friends are the most amazing of people, with the most beautiful of hearts! I hope someday I can be a good friend to each of them, and touch their lives the way they have done to mine. I hope someday I can learn to believe in people, and that it’s OKAY to be vulnerable to feelings sometimes. 

I'll try not to judge.

Today a stream of my thoughts led me to analyzing the personality of this certain individual in my life. She’s a friend whose existence I’ve been aware of since the 5^th Grade, but I had the privilege of actually getting to know her around 4 years after that. And to this very day, after joining the same university and entering our final year in that institution together, I have never been more grateful of having someone like her in my life.

I doubt I have the courage to allow someone to know me too well. Yes that takes A LOT of courage indeed. I will not be too modest and boast about the fact that it’s always been a bit too easy for me to make friends. I don’t think I’ve come across anyone by far who I found interesting, but did not manage to engage in a conversation with. But this friend of mine, who I call G, is not the kind of person I thought I would have ever been too keen to carry out an entire discussion with.

Back in 5^th Grade, during our French classes, I would see her sitting across the teacher’s desk, completely mesmerized by what was written on the pages of our text book. I even remember smirking to myself at that sight, as I attempted to hide my Walkman from the teacher’s suspicious eyes. It didn’t take me more than a minute to figure out how different our worlds were. And that is why I never bothered paying much attention to the girl across the teacher’s desk.

Fast-forward to four years later. I was shifted to her class. I looked around and saw more studious girls like her, and I don’t remember being more disappointed in all my years of high school! I’m aware that I can be very judgmental, but aren’t we all? My first impression of that girl was that her books, her grades, her school, was all that mattered to her. I spent several minutes observing her every move like a stalker! Because it amused me how very different she was from most people I was used to being around. But it all changed a few months after I finally got to know her. And once again, I’m SO glad it did.

Today, 10 years after the incident in my French class, I know that G is a shy and intelligent girl who has this weird thirst for learning that still amuses me the same way it did before. So maybe we’re two completely different people with barely so much in common. But I realized that maybe that’s not even relevant in the first place! G watches the same movies that I do, spends the same amount of time (if not more!) on Facebook, and likes writing the same way I do. I can talk to her for hours and not get bored because I think she’s one person who really understands me; someone who doesn’t judge me by the friends I have or the things I say. And now that I think of it, the one person I once thought I could never be friends with, is the one friend whose opinion matters most today.

Many a times we tend to miss out countless opportunities because of our misjudgments. Maybe it’s time we tried to avoid judging a situation, and actually give it a shot. Who knows, maybe someday even the mistakes we make will be worth the risk that we take.

I'll Be Your Walking Stick

Today a man of approximately 85 years of life experiences, father of 4 well-established children and 7 grandchildren, approached me regarding my writing. He has been reading a few of my works over the last few years and requested me to write something for him. I found it quite overwhelming because this man has always been such an inspiration to me; with his commendable tolerance for life’s painstaking circumstances, his remarkable presence, and most of all - the tender love and care that he has given to all those around him. I dedicate this article to my grandfather. And to all those grandparents who have brought so much affection to this world, but go away without much appreciation.

As I finished reading aloud the last few words of my 600-word article, I looked up to stare into the eyes of my listener, expecting it to be filled with the usual pride that I witness there. But instead I notice the pair of eyes gazing down, staring at the floor mat trying to avoid my gaze. As he looked up at me eventually, for the first time ever I saw tears in the eyes of my grandfather. After a moment of silence, he just held my hand and asked me to continue writing for as long as I live, and to make him read my works for as long as HE lives. That night I cried myself to sleep because in that one gaze, my grandfather communicated to me all the things that he had kept within himself for many years.

Growing up we tend to take many things for granted. The list soon becomes endless, and we end up with lost friends, distant relationships, and a painful list of misunderstandings. A mother suffers 9 months of pain, and a life time of sacrifice when she brings to this world another life. A father has a countless number of compromises to tend to as he ensures that that little being is fed well, educated at the best institutes, and grows up to be someone respectable. Sometimes what we fail to realize is that they don’t ask for anything in return, perhaps not even gratitude. Sometimes all they need is a little support when they grow old and need looking after.

Hundreds and thousands of grandparents end up in old-age homes. Some of them don’t really have any family of their own to take care of them; while some don’t want to become a burden on anybody, and wish to live their last few days independently. However, the majority end up there as a result of neglected duties. The parental advice that we crave for as youngsters, eventually becomes ‘interference’ in adulthood. Trust me when I say that we cannot even possibly imagine what our grandparents go through when their own children wish to carry on with their lives like these “old folks” aren’t an integral part of it. And in the fast paced world we live in today, the simplicity in the sheer joy of another person’s company is a feeling that is soon going to become extinct!

So if your grandmother is being a little cranky today, it is only because she is lonely. If you think your grandfather is too demanding, maybe it is because he just wants a little attention. It doesn’t take too much trouble to simply be a companion and spare time to listen. :)

Some Decisions Can Wait

I know for a fact that I’m a highly ambitious person. Like many others I have dreams that I want to change to reality, and successes that I want to achieve. But like few of them, I don’t really know what I precisely want to do in life.

Within a year or so, I will probably be a university graduate. It’s a big deal of course, because that is when people really start to take you seriously and maybe the point when YOU start to take yourself seriously. But I haven’t done that yet. I’ve always had a knack for creativity - from writing, to photography, to painting - I can proudly say that at some point or the other, I’ve tried it all! (Though I do admit that the people I draw have not evolved from being stick figures).

I wanted to be a photographer someday, and be the proud owner of a studio, and be able to capture the essence of beautiful people and present it to the world through my lens. I wanted to tour around the world, with appointments and photo shoots in Paris or London! But then I lost interest eventually and gave away all the digital photography books and magazines I owned. Then I wanted to be a calligraphy artist. I began writing in various forms of Old English Gothic handwriting, but alas! The ink pot of my calligraphy set dried and I lost interest again. And hence, I’m now stuck with a handwriting that is neither slanting, nor straight, nor cursive.

I can vividly recall wanting to be a psychologist at some point in my life. I was always told that I give fairly good advice, and I can deal well with people since I’m a “peoples’ person”. And no I haven’t yet lost interest in that. It’s just that the place I study in, does not really have many options when it comes to studying Psychology. But there was one subject that I studied back in school - Business Studies - that had a certain segment called ‘Marketing’, that seemed to have grasped my attention. I am not trying to imply that I did fairly well in the subject, because it was quite the contrary. Although, eventually I did realize that my grades ceased to matter. It was the entire idea of the subject that enthralled me. And after much analysis I realized that so far all my ‘phases’ had one thing in common - they all dealt with either creativity or communicating with people. And that is when I instantly pictured myself sitting on a revolving chair in a lavish office, and communicating with people about the ideas and the world that is inside my head.

But maybe it’s still okay to be unsure of what we want to be in life. Maybe this still isn’t my time to take hardcore decisions. I can still make mistakes, correct them, and try a different mistake each day till I get it right. And maybe this way when someday some random person asks me about my dream job, I can respond with pride that “I am actually living my dream right now”. 

Sorry : This relation is currently Disconnected

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUUU DEAR SISTER!”

Now imitate that in the voice of a 4-year old girl who just started going to school a few months back. My little cousin from thousands of miles away called to chime in one of the countles birthday messages that I heard throughout the day. Even though that call woke me up from my much-needed sleep, it brought this biggest smile on my face! But along with that, there were constant pangs of guilt as I continued my conversation with her.

Family - one of the many aspects of our everyday life that we seem to take for granted. Excuses are plenty - either you don’t have the time, the energy, the state of mind, or whatsoever. And family always understand; its kinda like their duty of course. But the fact is, there’s no such thing as “being busy”. Its actually all about priorities. And that’s where we ALWAYS go wrong.

I talk to this little cousin of mine once in 6 months maybe. Then once a year when I head back to my country, we live in the same house. Every 3 months this little girl awaits the arrival of an aunt/uncle with their kids to come to their house and become their family for a month. My mistake here is, after that one month, I tend to completely disconnect myself from that part of the world. Don’t shake your head in disapproval; we’ve all done something on the same line! This cousin of mine, filled with all her innocence, tells me that she’s waiting for me to come so that I can help her do her nails and play hide-and-seek and dress up! And right now while writing this blog, I feel like a complete jerk. This little girl has obviously done no wrong in her life. But yet I choose to get so distracted and engrossed in my own world, that I cannot spend 2 minutes to pick up the phone, dial her number, and talk to her about whatever it is that little girls want to talk about!

I am fully aware that I have bruised many relations this way. I am dreading the moment my grandmother pops a question about this, because I know then that I probably will not be able to look into those eyes and say “I was busy”. So this time, I am making myself a promise that it is high time I paid more attention to the rest of my family. I think I still have a little cash left from my birthday money. Maybe its time I visited the toy store.