Not Beautiful Enough

The phone rang, her first call
She said hello
and you knew you were falling
Her voice
The sound of her laughter
Her sleepy good morning wishes

That you had never
Seen her, touched her, felt her
It never mattered
For, you had felt her soul, her being
She was perfect

What a farce!
A heartbreak so pure
She came, in person
But what did you see?
Dark like the tribal women they’re afraid of
Hair with no shine
Not the most beautiful smile either
A little fat maybe?

Disappointed, disillusioned
Poor little you
Fooled by a lady
Not so beautiful too
Beauty as society understands it
Beauty as you understand it
She wasn’t beautiful enough for you.

Her intelligence, her words
always baffling you
The kindest, most humane
Serene, the tranquility of her self almost unbelievable
But did it mean anything at all?
After all, she wasn’t beautiful enough for you.

You broke to shreds, she healed you
You raged like a violent ocean, she calmed you
You laughed like a child, she laughed along
You were lost, yet never alone
All ceased to matter now
For you wanted beauty, but she wasn’t beautiful enough.

You in all your fair glory,
much wiser now
A frantic search for tranquility
only leads you to chaos
You keep looking, waiting
Your desire to find something real
Only met by pretence

You think of her,
the only thing true
You hope, but you know
she has risen, flying on
Busy painting the world
with the fire within her;

Such an air of nonchalance,
that you could never see
She wasn’t beautiful
She was a fuckin’ masterpiece.

Let Go!

Writing – the simple act of putting your thoughts down in words. Seems easy? Well, it’s not. If you think I’m talking about the everyday writing that almost all of us engage in – taking notes, copy pasting for projects, writing tests and the like – then I respect your ability to think simple in this exceptionally complicated world. But no, I’m talking about the kind of writing that forces you to think, that forces you to create, that forces you to express. Nope, not easy.

And then, there’s that crazy moment when you finally get inspired by all those ‘I CAN DO IT’ motivational videos you’ve been watching on Youtube since 9th grade and suddenly feel the urge to share your work with the rest of the world. This is where you enter a new level in the game and things get tougher as you decide to give people an insight into the most personal of your thoughts and notions; thoughts that were, until now, tucked away in the safe haven of your bizarre mind (and your personal diary, which your mother probably checks everyday for updated information). Oh boy, not happening.

It is scary. Yet, if you ask me, writing was the most comfortable activity for me back in school. I remember my 6th grade English teacher telling me, “It’s okay if you don’t understand a word of science, you can always take up writing which is a science in itself.” I took her golden words too seriously and completely gave up on science. But disappointing the poor lady further, I never tried enhancing my writing skills either and merely ended up scribbling a few random lines in my diary every day.  What I did realize, however, was how liberated and unrestrained those little frivolous moments of random scribbling made me feel. I loved the feeling and greedy as all humans are, I wanted more out of it. So a lot many monotonous years later, when a friend suggested I write for a blog, I thought to myself, this is it. This was my chance to move beyond the pale yellow pages of my diary and maybe find that ‘more’ I was looking for. Needless to say, I was hugely excited.

2 hours later, however, I had decided against it and had successfully entered a stage of ‘post-excitement depression’ (don’t think I’m weird, we are a whole community of people who suffer from this condition from time to time), except that the thing I was excited about never transpired and I directly landed in the stage of depression (okay, now you can call me weird).  So how did I finally end up posting on this blog?

I had started making a long list of possible things I could write about when it suddenly dawned on me that maybe I’m not ready for this yet. I am the happiest when I write, yet I had always kept it personal. A little introspection, amidst the constant inflow of depressing thoughts, and I realized that what I was actually not ready for was not writing on a larger platform like this or any of the other issues I mentioned above, but for the reactions, feedback, views and comments that would come after. Yes, I wasn’t ready to be judged on my writing by people I didn’t even know.

But the very same thought highlights the triviality of the entire issue. Does it really matter if people you don’t even know exist judge you for something you love doing? For all you know, you’re probably going to hear from them just once in your life and if they really hate what you do, they wouldn’t even bother noticing it in future. Problem solved!

There’s no better way of looking at this. We live in a society where most people have assumed for themselves the right to judge whether a particular individual’s action is ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, ‘good’ or ‘bad’, ‘interesting’ or ‘worthless’ and so on. And what’s unfortunate is that most people subscribe to this judgement, seeing it as a measure determining their success or failure. I understand that our country’s judiciary is largely corrupt and you feel for your countrymen (and women), but seriously, taking up such a huge responsibility of passing verdicts on every individual’s behaviour around you just to serve your country well is going a little too overboard, don’t you think? But then again, people tell me we live in a democracy which (on paper) gives every citizen the right to express their views about every possible thing on Earth. Well okay then, let’s take these views exactly as what they are: just views, nothing else. Let’s not give these views the power to bow us down and shape our course of action, our worth and our idea about who we are. Let’s learn how not to care.

Just imagine how easy life would be if the society’s opinion ceases to matter to people. A girl could dress as skimpily and as ‘provocatively’ as she wishes to, not caring about who she ends up provoking because that’s really not her problem, as long as it makes her feel confident about herself and survive Delhi summers. She could sleep with a 100 different men if she wants to, or one, without giving two hoots about being called a slut or a bore. A man with a perfectly straight sexual orientation could freely talk about and shop for feminine products he likes, unaffected by people calling him gay. Same-sex couples could go on romantic dates too, hold hands, kiss and sing for each other, while only feeling sorry for the Uncleji and Auntyji sitting at the next table and staring, clearly missing out on good food. And writing enthusiasts could write whatever and howsoever they wish to, without worrying about not having used enough fancy words and the hate mails they might receive.

This is exactly what I managed to do. I moved from being a victim of the ‘Fear of Judgement’ to becoming someone who has learnt to just let go and not care. I am here because I have finally come to accept the fact that people will always judge and perceive others from a self-constructed prism of good or bad, simply because they can. They may laugh at, love or hate what I write. But the best I can do is gladly accept this wide range of emotions coming my way and continue believing in myself. So here’s a shoutout to all those who are suppressing the urge to kick off something that gives them pure heavenly happiness, simply because they’re afraid they might not be accepted by those who’re already too good at it or those who aren’t brave enough to initiate it. Honestly speaking, as long as you’re not a candidate contesting elections, public opinion should really not bother you. Hell, even the candidates don’t care anymore!

So go ahead, don that two-piece bikini set you’ve been hiding in your closet since last summer, take up that low paying job you would love to do and even vote for Congress if you wish to! Life is too short to think about what the world thinks, because your only source of acceptance should be YOU. So breathe, let go and just do it!

Happy reading! Happy judging!