June 15, 2012

Lost and/or found

I was lost and/or found
you can find me in the box
that your teacher used to keep
high on the shelves
where last year's workbooks
and snubs of chalks
rotted with lizard poop.

search within me
find what you were looking
enlightened, leave
me bereft of
one more thing
that made my world
lost and/or found

June 09, 2012

Simple pleasures

A lawless wind, a solitary walk, some lovely music, an hour's tryst with myself and somewhere mid-way...maybe a word the singer crooned, maybe a gust of cold air or maybe the untraceable yet palpable magic around...something swept away my soul cobwebs; and the aching beauty made me believe that "God’s in His heaven—All’s right with the world!"

June 07, 2012

The Self-Image

(written after an obnoxious lady told some cruelly careless words about my appearance in the most casual fashion, within my earshot, to my mother, in a function, and I wanted to be cruel and mean to her and dig her eyeballs and pickle them in little earthen jars. But all I did was shut up and boil inside and feel pitiably vulnerable-till date- and leave the function soon!)

It is quite a pity that we as humans really depend on so many people to build our opinions and image about ourselves. How much ever we don't care about society at large for our actions, we do care about their opinions on certain things- our vulnerabilities.

When we already have certain insecurities regarding traits of our personality, or more commonly, about the way we look, all of a sudden every Kamakshi, Meenakshi and Visalaakshi's opinions attain prime focus.

Especially, what you hear about yourself, as a kid, really somehow never leaves you. Having been brought up as the 'brains' of the family, I never had a great opinion about the way I looked. And it took three years of acceptance in NID to finally feel good about the way I look. Casual comments and snide remarks, however, still shake me silly.

What is the cure to such issues of one's self-image? Acceptance, is one thing we all search for in our lives.  In our families, within our circles of friends, in our romantic partners, husbands, wives, children, and so on. At every turn and phase, we need some kind of pillar or one person who would stand by no matter how large our noses are or how small and crinkly our eyes are.

As kids, more or less every one has this acceptance in family. Which is probably why childhood forms the best part of everyone's lives. We delight in the very existence of every kid, celebrate their every move and basically give them superstar status, except the occasional moments of strict disciplinary action. Even after reprimanding a child, most sane parents convey the motive for scolding and make peace with the kid. And hence restore the rosy perfectly loved world of a child.

When we grow up, however, checkboxes come into play in every walk of our lives. People require you to be a certain way, respond thus, refrain from talking to their 'enemies' and so on- making it difficult for us to ever dissociate from expectations and disappointments. Our self-image becomes deeply connected with peer viewpoints.

This remains pretty much the state for a really long time. Although I am a person who does her own thing based on her own logic and conviction, and rarely does things to please society just for "playing safe" or "being conventional", I would be lying if I say I don't get affected by snide careless remarks that people make about me, around me. Their words remain with me for long and do affect me, mostly if it concerns the way I look, and I am not sure if a day would come where I'd base my self-image merely on my own opinions than get affected by what the world has to say.

How much our vulnerabilities weigh us down! How much we let our weak points put setbacks into our lives?

I wish there would be a day when I can completely accept the truth- your body is merely a vessel and what kind of a person you are, is what matters. I have only made partial peace with it still.


June 03, 2012

The Summer

(inspired by Long Afternoons, composed by Ben Hantoot)

There is a little bit of exposed skin
from the burn
of being out in the sun for long

in this humid heat
these long afternoons
of endless dusty winds
and whirring fans

That which was raw pink
and soft to touch
and hurting once
as if impaled,
over the summer
has got a dull coat of brown
and worries me less
even during a casual brush
with wall or skin

Over time, I think it will heal
a new skin shall spread to cover
this summer shall be long gone
winters and autumn shall visit
maybe a spring
maybe other summers
and other sunburns
and their varying degrees of heat

Or maybe, this will remain
a scar between skin folds
when old and worn
still constantly reminding me
of that summer I could never forget.

© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall