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A Tale of Sadness & Love

TransA morning when I was myself struggling through some of issues in my life. I chose to put it aside for some while and go out to have a chill with my friends. Even when the time was pre-planned, I got out from home early so that I could spend some time with myself. I was commuting via Delhi Metro.

I wasn’t in my Best moods so, I got ready as if it were the best day of my life. I put on my Eyeliner, Mascara, Lipstick, wore a nice Colourful dress to look very jolly, which somehow made me feel better. It sometimes works, it’s just like when you are sad, you force yourself to smile ’til it eventually makes you feel better. ‘Fake until you make it’.

It was Ladies’ Compartment. After a few stations, I realised someone along my side was talking to someone sitting just in front of me. So I could see her expressions which I didn’t find much agreeable. So I paused the track I was listening to, to get the idea of what was happening.

I realised there was a Neuter sitting beside my seat, she was asking for the Route to the other Girl. However, The Girl didn’t know the Route to INA Market. Actually, the girl was maybe a little scared too, that’s how I felt through her expressions. Also, the funny part was she was complimenting her in weird ways. She said- “You look pretty, you better go into films, leave your studies, and When you’ll come into movies, I will be proud to see you and call myself a sister of a Movie Actor”.

shutterstock_168955373-605x400All this was quite funny because of the tone of her voice and manner in which she was speaking but also quite scary because we all have been taught by our parents, societies to be at a little distance from Neuters. The reasons that they give us are one too many like they would say- They are not good people! Or they might say- They have a very different community than ours and the best bet is to stay far from them. Obviously the Kids of our age need reasoning and logic. When the parents aren’t able to feed us logic, they frighten us by telling weird stories. They tell us that the Neuter Community abducts teenagers and injects them with hormones to turn them into a neuter as well. Or they tell us how cruel, shameless they are, they can do anything for money and if not given, they insult people in the worst possible way.

All these little stories have created a bad reputation of this less-respected Community. These sharp words have subconsciously created an outlook amongst us all. The Hijras are not respected by any. It is only at the time of a birth of a baby that they are welcomed in houses to give blessings to the new born and gifted with lots of money and jewellery. The sole time when they’re welcomed.

Coming back to the incident, she also started to stare me, and saying all those things to me too about trying for Movies. To which I lightly replied- “I am not that good-looking to qualify as an actress and also I would, but my parents want me to study.” She was exceedingly extrovert. She was indulging in small talks with everyone in the compartment. The Girls, Ladies, she started to joke with everybody. She complimented everybody in the coach, speaking in a very funny manner and comical accent. She even persuaded a girl to call her husband to talk to him on phone. Can you believe that? She talked to her husband and said— “Why don’t you marry me and I Love you etcetera”. I found it extremely comical.  After talking to her husband she blessed them. In India, the blessings of Hijras are considered very significant. She didn’t ask her for money, but the lady gave her a hundred which somehow made an obligation for others to pay her too. They all started giving her some money. I really couldn’t understand why despite denying so much, she started to accept money then. This one thing kept me confused for days and I couldn’t make a heads or tails about it honestly. Anyway, the route thing I knew about.

I knew the route so I explained her the metro route. But she couldn’t understand so I thought that I should help her as I had some extra time to be at the meet-up. I took her along with me to the upper floor, where from we had to board the train. We were talking all this time, I asked her about her life, she told me her childhood story how her mother didn’t want to give her up despite her being the other gender. She said, with sadness within her, “There’s nobody like a Mother. A Mother never wants to lose her child despite all the flaws that the child may have. She’ll accept her even after knowing the hardships that they’ll have to face. She said the Societies create more problem than family does.” I was completely in her agreement. There was a sense of dissatisfaction in her that I noticed. But she was still encouraging me to study and told me to never let anybody discourage and dominate me. Yes, these were her words, after not being able to study, because of the differences. She is encouraging me to study. Also she was telling me about the Dharma-Maa that she had. The Dharma-Maa is one who nurtures you like a Mother but she’s not your biological Mother. Hers was the head of the Hijra Community of their region. She told me how she used to let her study when it wasn’t allowed by their community to touch books. Every day she would study in a park and then bury the books under the bulky tree. This hustle was continued for a couple of years. But she was sad as she couldn’t continue her education after 8th standard. She wanted to but after that, even her Maa couldn’t support her Education. Do you feel how depressing it must be for this community to quit education?

She told me how she misses her family & her home in which she was born. She said she’s very unlucky to have been born like that otherwise she could spend her life with her family with complete right and dignity. She told me that not a day passes without her yearning for her family. She misses them endlessly. I could just feel her, I tried to console her a bit. I really hope that nobody suffers from this pain yet want that everybody feels this pain, only then, we can all be empathic with the less-fortunate.

She kept on telling me how she envies us all because we have a family to live with. People have a spouse and children. She was sad that she can never get all this. We get to hang-out with our friends and family. We get to go out anywhere with complete liberty without being eyed but if Hijras are roaming around, they are being eyed and judged.

What next? We talked some more about Love. She complimented me and said – “you’re very pretty, you must have an ardent lover.” I said no promptly. Because of the conflicts in my love life, I wanted to evade this subject called LOVE. I did have a boyfriend but we had been going through some tough times and we were not able to get along lately so I decided to continue only as friends. Obviously I didn’t explain my complicated love to her. I simply said— “I do have someone who loves me but I don’t love him”. It must be mere coincidence that she cut me and said— “No, you’re lying, you love him”. I was amazed because the truth I was hiding, she understood or maybe it was a mere chance she said so. I told her about how self-sufficient I was and I needed nobody to be with me. She was almost in tears when I said that.

She expressed her desire of true love in her life, her wants to be with someone who would accept her in the way Lord has created her and love her. She needed someone to listen to her problems, to talk about absolutely nothing, to care for her choices, someone who would be there for her, someone who would love to kiss her, someone who would fight for her, who would respect her, someone she would love to care about. I was nodding with her words & said—“Just the feeling that someone is there for you is the best feeling in the world.” We both could relate. Listening to this, we both had our eyes wet. She simply asked me to love him back if the relationship is worth it as Love is a very beautiful feeling. I nodded.

She was so distressed. Her only wish was to be one amongst us, only if she were born as a man or a woman. She wishes that could happen. “I’m not happy with this life of begging. Where we are not involved in any societal meets, not respected. I wish I could also study like a normal person to change the way how our community is treated,” she said. I encouraged her that she can still do it.

I was thinking of ways to console her but knowing the hardships that she has to face every day, the struggle, it was difficult for me to find words. I still tried by saying— “Don’t worry, whatever happens, happens for good, you just believe in God.” She was a bit relaxed now. The magic wasn’t in me or my words, I didn’t do much to calm her; the true magic was in just Listening. I’m glad that I just could listen to her and if not solve her problems, just lessen her mental burden.

Finally, her destination arrived, I dropped her, and we said our byes. She went, but her thoughts lingered on. I was constantly thinking about her, her struggles. I was wondering how the world can embrace them. What things should change etcetera. Total Utopianism, attainable or not. I prayed for her and the community. I also started to think about reconciling with my beloved. I was thinking on how I should make up for the things gone wrong in our relationship, how I should fill the gaps. Well, I started my efforts, it took me a while. It was hard at first, but things turned smooth as this was what we both wanted. We settled all the differences one by one and eventually our relationship turned stronger than ever. May be the problems were important to strengthen our relationship. And the realization of its importance was equally necessary.

And about her, I’m worried. Because of her being too talkative and extrovert, I felt traces of depression in her. I would be happier if my observation turns out wrong. I hope she’s well. We all should do our bit to make them feel home whenever we see them. Just a mild smile would do, I really request people to not look this community with an evil eye. They’re just as humans as we are. They’re God’s creation as we are, only a bit different.

P.S. Next time you see one of them, Do them a Favor— JUST SMILE  (^_^)

 

 

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Woe-MEN

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Women should rather get start being called WOE-MEN. Because they’re no less than a suffering to Men all around for no reason. I wonder why it’s so, what heinous sins have they committed, how did they do this? These are some of the 64 thousand dollar questions which unfortunately won’t get answered till the ends of the Universe.

Just Wondering, How do WOE-MEN hurt Men? Maybe it is their Breath that makes the air poisonous for other dogmatic Males to breathe. Or maybe it’s the cacophony they make all the time while all the busy Male-Bees are working which makes them go crazy. Maybe it’s the sluggishness, their indolence which makes the aura ill. Or May be it’s their selflessness, I feel it must be really hard to be around such extraterrestrials. Not just that, Woe-Men are all the time in a mood to try their ways to woo Men, who by the way are very Realistic & Unromantic.
WOE-MEN

The Possessiveness of Women for their Bodies, Hair, Dresses are all a sign of their pretentiousness, even the hormones—Estrogen & Progesterone that happen to bother women and cause mood swings are their fault as well.

The Looks so charming, the Touch so healing, the Heart so warm is all a lie, that maddens them to their core.

No wonder WOE-MEN will be a pain in the neck as long as they take ‘Women Empowerment’, ‘Gender Inequality’ for granted. These words have richer meaning to what is usually interpreted. They’ve a deeper connotation which had never been given the right weight it deserved.

No one else than amongst us can come up & say-“Whatever happened was find, let’s forget that & walk towards the brighter side of the tunnel.” The Dark tunnel can’t be crossed by one or two or even a hundred, but only all together can do it. When they accept nothing but the true Social, Legal, Educational, Political, & most of all INDIVIDUAL EMPOWERMENT. When they’ll understand how valuable, privileged they are to be born in this gender. When they respect and equally get it back, when their opinions and decisions are welcomed, admired and considered without any prejudice.

That’ll be in a true sense- “Women Empowerment.” Period.

 

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I was born BLACK but I didn’t know it

BlackI was born Black but I didn’t know it. I was my Daddy’s cute little girl. My Daddy! He loved my hair, he used to arrange them every day, be it ponytails or braids. Tickling and Games, my childhood was all about it. One word can summarise my childhood and that is Happiness.

I never saw a Mirror, never needed to. I was the prettiest and the most beautiful girl as my Daddy called me. Then I became a teenager, the time of tonnes of changes, biological, physical, mental, loads of them. The time of fragility and abysmal confusion. The people started commenting on my looks, told me that my skin was not white, not pure.

I never knew the difference between the white and black skin. The only way I could distinguish people was their acquaintance or relationship with me. There were people I know in one group and the ones I didn’t know in the other. That was it, there were no further classifications with their color, class, religion, caste as a base.

With each day, the number of comments was rising, I was becoming a mess. I got confused between the notion of Daddy and that of the society. Daddy called me the prettiest and now people are eying me and calling me Black. He was not there anymore, couldn’t ask him too.

black1With new and different comments, weird and awkward stares, strange insecurities were being born in me every day. I couldn’t believe it, I didn’t want to believe that my black skin was not pretty. But bit by bit, the strange insecurities about the skin, color, lips broke the belief. The belief of being the Daddy’s Most Beautiful Girl broke.

I got to know the difference finally. I was uncomfortable in my skin now. I was ashamed of being black now. They forced me to be ashamed of my black skin. Each day was a sin after the realisation. It took me days to chuck it.

I started to put makeup, layers of it. Primer, Concealer, foundation, highlighter, kohl, mascara and Tone Enhancing, Fairness Creams at night. I thought it’ll be okay now. I felt good in the beginning when my kith and kin complimented me. It gave me a satisfaction. I felt happy, really happy. Months and years passed. My obsession for makeup also rose. I couldn’t picturise myself without makeup anymore. It became my identity, the outer one at least. I got dependent on it. It became my drug.

But one night, I was removing my makeup, I removed the Kohl first, it got smudged and smeared. Then I took the cleansing wipe, rubbed it on my lips. The bold red lips became dull, lifeless at once. I panicked a bit. I folded the wipe, started to clean my face. I could see, stroke by stroke, the two juxtaposing skin tones. I was horrified. I can’t explain the feeling, what I felt that very moment, suddenly there was a tear in my eye. I wiped it, cleansed and washed my face and went to bed. I tried to sleep but I wasn’t able to.

I was confused about this incident for many months. I was losing my sleep. There was this identity crisis in me after all of it that I was neither able to embrace my natural shade, be comfortable with it or wear it publically nor I was able to be happy in my artificial shade, I was wearing it to work but I wasn’t feeling myself anymore.

Then to worsen it, one day, while I was checking Instagram, I saw a white women’s post. It said-“BAN MAKEUP and FAIRNESS CREAM”. I was angry, sad, happy, worried, optimistic, and pessimistic in a single moment. Can you believe it?

Angry! As why a white woman is posting it, she’s not black, she doesn’t feel us then how did she get the right to post it.

Sad! As I was already disturbed about my skin. I thought if this should happen what would I do without makeup? How would I see myself without these products?

Happy as at least someone thought of it, a woman thought of it despite she’s white, she cared enough for others. She wants others to feel beautiful with whatever God has gifted them with.

Worried! I was worried how will I go out, in such a dull and lifeless skin. What would others think of me if they see me like so?

Optimistic! I thought maybe if there are no products, everyone will eventually accept their natural beauty despite the differences and the diversity. After all, we all are the same, all humans, we all have eyes, ears, mouth, lips, brain, heart etc. Maybe the world will embrace the black and white alike now.

Pessimistic! What if this all was a bubble, my bubble of hope. What if this all was my imagination while the reality might be unfavorable? What if the world refuses to believe in black, denies their rights and opportunities. What if we’re all left out.

black1Yes, all these thoughts in a couple of seconds. My head was all about it, and it started to pain because all these feelings were shouting, having arguments and fights with each other. It was a Brain War.

I was messed up beyond words that night. I took a pill and tried to catch some Zs. I slept with a wet pillow. The pill put me to sleep.

Luckily, I had a good dream that night. In my dream, there was a different world, an animated and a really beautiful one. I saw chocolate rivers, colorful trees. Some trees had candies hung on them. Some had cupcakes while others had star shaped fairy lights hung on them. On one side, there was this huge fall, from which strawberry shake was falling. The people’s face were teddy like, had a cherry-like nose. There were big mansions made of waffles which also had noodle shaped curtains on their glass panes. There were statues of chocolate, ice-cream filled ponds. Pasta shaped ducks and all cute little animals. Surprisingly, all the teddies looked alike. A huge bell rang in a while, at the centre of the beautiful Garden. Suddenly all the teddies sat on the green grass for lunch. They held each other’s hand and made a big circle, leaving no one behind. All sat and had lunch circled by small puppies and kittens, they also joined for lunch.

The speciality of this very time was the way they all sat for the feast. Their regular meal was a feast each day. They were so happy and joyous. Each one of them started to feed others with their plate. Each one was filled up with not just food but love. The cute animals were not left alone either. What an adorable scene that was! I wish I could capture it on my phone. Suddenly played the Beep! Beep! My alarm played and woke me up.

I woke up with a smile on my face. I remembered each scene of my dream, so clearly and vividly. I was in awe of it. I was happy about it, the dream fed me some positivity, and a long lost one. I went to the park, bathed, ate my breakfast and got ready for work.

I did not wear makeup that day, it was hard but I didn’t. I tied my hair and went for work. Some colleagues questioned on why looked so dull. To which I replied—“I look real.” Some appreciated while others chose to whisper and laugh. I won’t say it was easy. It was bold, you know, doing something unafraid, indifferent to the consequences. I did it or maybe I didn’t. This was daddy’s pretty girl who did it.

The wicked and surprised eyes disappointed me a little at first. But the impression of the dream was not that weak that I would be hurt by those stone pelted at me anymore.

Instead, the second time I chose to fire back at the ones who came and commented on my skin. I chose to bomb kind words wrapped in sarcasm with a smirking smile on my face. I could see them almost dying as they couldn’t make me insecure anymore. I saw that dissatisfaction in their eyes when they saw my proud eyes. I wish I knew this cycle in my teenage. Comments if not answered turn into our own insecurities while also powering the perpetrators.

Anyway, I was not looking for an acceptance anymore. I accepted myself entirely that day. Isn’t there much more to me, my life than the shade of my flesh?

Problems never last so does satisfaction. I was pondering over a cup of java that what if I had not seen that Instagram post that day? What if I had not cared for my dull lips and different shades that day? What if my daddy never called me beautiful? What if I hadn’t had that dream morning?

I could be happy in my flesh once again, the way nature made me, the way my family loved and accepted me. But what about the others? Who are as black as I yet with golden but fragile hearts? What sequence is designed by the nature to make them believe in their skin again? What if they don’t see that post or have that dream?

What ifs are tonnes but so are the what now’s. We all should be that human to at least someone that betters their life directly or indirectly. I want to inspire many by this small tale. But I’m not going to say Ban Makeup or Ban Fairness Cream.

I would go and shout out loud—“BAN THE INSECURITY”. I would teach the trick to silent the commenters. I’m going to teach the blacks to educate the racists and pity their limited thinking.

I would teach the teenagers how the color palette is incomplete and somehow blank with just white and alone without the black.

The world is also the color palette of the Lord whose colors are white, black and so many others and his arts are equally colorful. If God wasn’t partial to his color palette, who gave humans the right to criticise his art pieces?

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A Decision

pexels-photo-325520.jpegA decision can adversely affect your life. I’m having the side-effects truly. My physics class is happening, for my least interest. Having tried all ways to understand physics, now I just want to raise my hand to give up. Giving up is no wrong, sometimes it’s for good, because the truth is we all are no Einstein’s or Newton’s. We can be great personality in arts or maybe we could definitely do something in management or be it anything a musician or an actor or a scientist or a teacher or just a clerk. It doesn’t matter what as long as we can choose to be good at it. The job least matters; what matters most is happiness. Are you making most of it, are you enjoying your work, are you happy doing your job or regretting your job, your life?

The decision that effed your life; It’s not about who made the decision, you or someone else. A bad decision is just bad and the consequences are even worse. The regretful decisions in our life’s are mostly made by someone else. You can’t blame them too because they are your loved ones or maybe above you. But such things just scar the relation forever.

Sometimes I want to cry so bad, but I can’t even cry. I have gone emotionally numb. I have become a stone. But touch my heart, touch my soul, you’ll feel how bad n loud it’s crying. It’s really hurting.

“Regrets comes in all shapes and sizes. Some regrets for doing the wrong thing, some regret for making the wrong choices but the biggest regrets in life are for not being able to do something, for not getting a chance to walk even few steps to the road of your passion—something that you loved doing, could do for hours without any reward, money.

I know, not everybody who follow their passion get success, but the few steps are the success in itself, the journey makes it just worth it. These few steps give you what the million dollars won’t be able to give you. It keeps you alive. It gives you a reason to work on every morning and a chance to thank god for blessing you with an attempt to do the thing you felt strongly for.

People should always be asked— “what you wish to do rather than what you aim to do?”. As to what I see and feel, there’s a subtle difference and strangely even the person is unable to figure that out until he’s wasted some years trying to find a satisfaction in his aim while he left his passion considering it was just a hobby.

Suppose, a person wants to sing or dance maybe, it doesn’t matter if he’s an expert or sloppy. It’s just simple—he wants to do it, he likes it. But he aims to be an engineer or say doctor. our aims in life are often a result of some influence but our vocations are true. So ask yourself is it my passion, can I do it for the rest of my life, if I have enough money would I just do it?

Once in a life, they must be given a chance to do what they want to do. I know I’d never be able to do what I wished to do, and now I wish every morning, for a chance to try that later in my life.

Decisions are the inevitable part of life. they are like ‘The road not taken’, tough but you’ve got to take them anyway, without any judgment just follow your heart.

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A Writer will always be Mistaken

A Writer will always be mistakenA writer will always be mistaken. Everyone thinks right? But only we choose to pen down. We write the earnest, the deepest of the thoughts with a pen which runs silver ink, the same silver that makes a mirror.

We pen down what we see with the most ardent honesty, what we feel or imagine. Our feelings or imaginations are just like us, simple and true with not even the slightest intentions to misguide or mislead.

A Writer will always be mistakenWe choose to write down on vivid and diverse topics but not all are our past. We want to write something that’s someone’s something, that makes out a meaning, that brings clarity to someone. We don’t always pen down our life, so doesn’t mean if I write about love, in actually in love with someone, it maybe past or pure imagination. I want to write it so well, pouring my heat-beat with the silver ink. And when people read it and ask if that’s happened to me.  I take it as a compliment, I feel on having written it so good that people find its true.

But not always do I like the question. The question- ‘Has it happened to me’. I want to write pure fantasies, someone else’s darkest realities, fictions without the fear of judgments, without being questioned of my physical connection with my writings.

If they want to know my connection with my work, I can tell you whole day how deeply connected, embossed it’s in my soul not because they’re good or they have been my past but because I could feel those feelings without them actually happening to me.  I feel all my work so deep just the way I’d have felt if it’d have happened to me.

But am I gifted or unfortunate? I can feel anything so well but still can’t deliver it as my pure fantasy. I mislead my readers through my work that it has happened to me without my truest intentions. A Blessing or a Curse?

The writer will always be misunderstood.

 

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Screens: Walls between Relationships

Screens -WallsRelationships today are more susceptible to damage than ever before. But this time, we don’t need a third person to intervene and damage the relationship.

People are vulnerable more than ever before. The relationships don’t need any walls, distance to get ruined today. Only the small devices in our hands are the ones which will do the unimaginable damage to the love and soul of the relationships.

Screens -Walls (2)The Screens in our hands or our laps are the invisible walls we all are creating around us. The earphones in our ears making us deaf to the sounds we should cherish, we should hear. The silly talks about anything or nothing are vanishing and the laughter is becoming just an emotion.
The tears and emotions are perceived as drama or attention seeking stunts, however true they maybe.

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These devices are getting smarter and making people dumber, far from each other more than ever before.

Change before its too late, Change before you have many robots around but no real relationships.

 

 

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Feelings for Myself & My Friends… End of College

4It’s nothing new what I’m feeling for myself and my friends.
College is ending and we’re just marking these days, can’t cross them on the calendar, because they have been the best days of our lives. On the verge of making our careers, shaping our lives, yet full of confusion.
I’m determined and worried at the same time, for me and friends. At one end there’s a certainty that we’ll all do well and at the other a commotion. The commotion to know how it will all happen. It’s all gibberish I know, but that’s exactly how I feel and that’s the peak of clarity my thoughts currently can have.

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Jobs, Business, Success, Failure, Entrepreneurship, what had been just simple English terms just a while ago when we were laughing in our classes, are going to be a reality, our reality just in a month.

I panic at the fact that we aren’t going to meet every day. We’ll have to plan a week or a month before, just to see each other for a day.

I really remember our gossips about anything, literally anything, baseless conversations on phones for hours. Now in a blink, it’s ending.

I wished to stop the time, in the moment of happiness when I just woke you from an amazing dream when we are meeting in the way and heading for the college together. While waiting for one of us, we all are chilling, creating new happy moments together.

But it was too late to try, because the following moment woke me up, frightened and surprised. What I was so vividly enjoying in the last moment was a beautiful dream and I was horrified too because in the dream, we all called it the last day. I rebelled n my dream as well. But the fact remains a fact, an unchallenged and an unchangeable one indeed.

Each day is creating a new anxiety in me, there are fears unknown, feelings unexpressed. I don’t know what I should say or do—I just can pray for a great career simply for all of us.

 

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Million times when I’ll be Right…

Million Times When I'll be right (2)There’s gonna be Million times when I’ll be right, and millions when I’ll be wrong.

But the constant should be you, I can celebrate being right and celebrate being wrong equally proud if it’s you by my side.

If your hands are there to hold me in the times of not just my triumph but my defeat, there’s nothing more that I’m going to ask for.

Because Victory or Defeat, they’re temporary. You are my permanent, my constant Love.

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If We were not taught anything, anything at all. Wouldn’t We just Love

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Have you seen a baby, it just knows to love his parents, play with them! Have you seen him hurting anybody consciously? Many of you might say he cries and hurts people’s ears but he just cries to notify his parents if he’s hungry or needs some caressing.

As he begins to grow older, he learns anything and everything from his surroundings, his parents. How to behave, talk, speak, walk, eat and love. Yes, Love too. People are made this way, they learn by seeing and act the things they have observed previously.

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Similarly, we just learn anything which we see. Most of us are too naïve to actually check and filter things out before learning them. We are too amateur to know what’s right or what’s wrong. Before we learn that, we often fall for the wrong as it’s common and easy.

The kids learn the way their parents walk or talk, how they earn money, are they true or cheaters, how they behave with people outside their family and circle. Our parents are the first examples we see, the first perspective that we can see and learn from.

And then the kids are put in school to emboss the fixed ideas under the skin, the ideas that make the world just a limitation. The Discipline that just is beyond bounds and sometimes leave no open space to breathe. ‘School’ teaches the same ancient stories of prince or princesses or a poor history which is filled with the most important battles. Battles, why should a child know about them? When the baby’s brain is the most fertile, why is he not taught of the inspiring stories which make him want to be like the heroes who made the world a better place. Why is he not given a room full of millions and billions of books, paints, music, mic, laptop; Why is he not given a choice to be anything in the damn world? Why is he not given a chance to be just anything? Why is he not given a chance to showcase what he knows from his life? Why is he made to think that there’s a lot more in this world to learn and living here is tough, when he can just be taught to live the life with morality and humility? Why is he not given an opportunity to make mistakes?

Why are we taught so many things when they can come naturally to us? Did we learn to love our parents from anywhere, or to laugh, to breathe, to cry, when it came naturally to us, why are we taught in masses so many same old ideas that are just not relevant today. Their being taught makes them a norm, and when a person can’t relate to that, he thinks he’s not normal.

Love for parents comes to a baby, naturally. A baby who has loved someone, can’t he love a partner on his own? But as the baby grows, he sees the bad side of the coin of love, he learns about the adultery, cheating, selfishness in love and gets perplexed and puzzled of the true idea. So what was originally in his heart gets foggy as he grows up.

The truth is within us already but to get to it, we follow a cycle, we have made it a tough thing. First, God sends the truth within us, then we have to forget that, then we are taught life-lessons from people around or school and then spending half our life we realize it’s not right so we unlearn it all, and finally, we learn the truth. The thing is its very simple.

So, why do we make it tough, why do we get taught various things just to find out they’re not right. Why can’t we just follow our life the way god made us.