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Why are we questioned upon Love

   Why are We questioned upon Love   Two scenes, two people, together, having a private moment, both in public, in front of thousands of people, but one of them is looked with disgust, while the other looked and utterly ignored.

      One where two people are having a fight, a man and a woman are having a heated argument, the man shouting at her so loudly, while she, crying and trying to convince him by trying to hold his hands while he pushes her each time she attempts, a little love in her eyes with even more tears. She tries to convince and calm him, now with even more love and trembling voice, while he is almost on the verge of hitting her in public. Everybody sees this, some look at this and feel shameful about it, some talk about it, some comment on the man’s bad character, some about his upbringing, some comment upon how the woman must be wrong, some conclude loudly that she must need man’s money too much to face all this, some turn a blind-eye. But nobody stops them and ask them both to calm down. Why nobody has the courage to go to him and ask to behave well with a woman. Why nobody goes to the woman and makes her realise that she’s being undervalued when she might mean the world to someone unlike him who humiliates her, who doesn’t value her love. Why nobody goes to the man and warns him that no situation or relation of his with the lady justifies his shouting at her like this publically or even privately. Not even One!

Why are we questioned on loce

    One where two people are having a lovey-dovey moment, they hold each other’s hand just like a gold medallist who would hold his medal, in a proud and tender way. They look each other in their eyes, not caring for the world, forgetting everybody, forgetting life’s burden, forgetting every day’s hustle. To them, the moments of being together mean the most. Love gives them the power to face everything else again with courage, they want to believe in their dreams, happiness again. Both share a hug and a peck on the lips. A hug is the best way to show your love to your partner, it makes you directly connected to them, you feel their heartbeat and they feel yours. When you feel their heartbeat, the satisfaction of this being for you is a bliss, you know the person is there for you. In a world full of Money & Struggle, a beautiful thing such as a hug is free but still so priceless. Even Science has researches in favour of the amazing benefits of Hug, it releases Happiness Chemicals. A peck, it’s more than a gentle touch that two lips share, it’s a reflection of the love between them, it’s a warm greeting that two souls make, a meaningful kiss is more than a bodily pleasure, you can feel millions of fireflies in your head when that happens. When two people are in love, they are so happy and satisfied in their minds, their partner’s presence makes them happy, they want to look after them more than they would take care of themselves, every decision is made by keeping the partner’s happiness in mind, they want to love them even more, they want to live with them, a life full of ecstasy that relieves them from the thought of being lonely. Anyway, the partners share a kiss and a hug publically, for people who would value love might smile at such an instance and would directly start thinking of their own beloved, but most folks can’t chuck other’s happiness quite well. People start seeing this thing with disgust just like the fight scenario but this time, they won’t just sit in the backseat of the car, 7 on 10 would judge their characters, 8 on 10 would stare, 8 on 10 would definitely talk about the girl being shameless, 5 on 10 might call her a hoe, 2 on 10 might get aroused and stare them constantly to make them feel uncomfortable by imagining dirty things being honest, lastly, the most courageous ones, 3 or 4 on 10 will be ready with their snappy words to utter in a very sharp tone, the moment they get to speak, they’ll intrude the couple’s privacy and yell at them for being so shameless or they might start giving them moral values’ lectures. The problem with both is that- “The Couples don’t need any body’s advice.” But such advices are free everywhere around the globe.

     So, nobody was there to help a couple fighting seriously but people intrude when they absolutely should have had not. A strong emotion called Hatred is being overestimated than the stronger emotion. Why?

     Why do people want to be nosey-parkers in the matters of love but not when two people have a fight? Why the Love is perceived so low in the minds of millions’? Why has Love between two people to be questioned while the Hatred ignored? Why do people think they have the right to irrupt between lovers? Why do people think they don’t have the right to help them when the two are fighting? Why PDA and crime both lead to Jail? Is Love a Crime? Ask yourself these questions and answer to yourself and your conscience.

   I don’t find people’s fault in this, the fault is in the mindset & mentality they have, the outlook they have been having, the things they have been seeing in their culture and sub-consciously an acceptance has been generated. The Acceptance of the wrong as being the sole truth has made them blind, blind enough to perceive their beliefs into the truth.

  But can we not grow more? Can we not unlearn? I request us all to learn new perspectives because there’s no better time than now. The Fittest survives and to survive you must compromise, sacrifice, and understand other beings as well.

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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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The Dark Sky and the clouds are as optimistic as the Grey Skies

Dark Skies are as optimistic as the Grey is (3)

The Dark Sky and the clouds are as optimistic as the grey sky.

The Silver Line above the cloud is so optimistic but trust me, the black clouds are equally or maybe more optimistic than the clear beautiful sky.

The grey clouds that tend to dim the lights of the sun, but only those clouds don’t let the sun’s light to diverge in the vastness of earth and then in these beautiful movements of the clouds, only once in a while, you do see a bright ray of light as perfect as the lord.

The ray with a sharp piercing focus, beautiful line running downstairs like that beautiful angel in white but with the vividness of a thousand rainbows.

Dark Skies are as optimistic as the Grey is (1)

Then there is the dark sky that seems to yell spells and curses but only in some time we are able to decipher the spells when it rains and beautifully dampens the dry earth, extracting aromas and auras and spreading it all around. Only the dark skies have the ability to rain on earth and the people. The rain that’s purer than the purest water on the mother earth.

In only the dark clouds, the thunderstorms, when lightning strikes the earth and makes so loud sounds; people are more silent and enjoying the nature’s play while looking at the power of it, in awe of nature.

When it rains, the purity of water dilutes all the negativity in the people and fills them with gaiety. They are always joyful when it rains.

“A clear sky never rains” is what they say and they never said it wrong.

So, Cheers to the Grey & Dark Clouds.

 

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My modesty is my pride…

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My modesty is my Pride. I am not a modest I choose to be one. I choose to be proud at me in silence than exaggerating or publicizing myself in front of everybody.

My silence is my dignity, my pride. Because I’d be judged if I speak, I’d be judged if I don’t. So I’d let my silence be the reason of your judgment and your judgments be the reason of my silence and an insight of you to me.

 

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We dont cry b’coz we’ve Problems but…

We dont Cry becausePeople don’t cry because they have problem, but when they can’t find the solutions or they don’t have just an ear that lack any filter of bias, pre-judgments, past-experiences.

We’re so vulnerable today that we just can’t express our feelings clearly to ourselves, let alone others. We are always confused, baffled below the earth’s clear sky.

We’re so lonely today that we just prefer to spend two hours in front of a screen today that opens the windows to the world but first slyly shuts the doors of our life—shuts for even our closest relationships in life than going out of this virtual life’s door to explore the reality.

We dont Cry because 2The screen that delivers the news and knowledge of the world in a few seconds but fails to understand the feelings. So the vulnerable soul that seek knowledge unknowingly abandons their heart. In seek of knowledge, they banish themselves from their confidants, their soul-buddies, their soul-buddies

And when problems hit us, where do we go to seek the apt solution, a kind advice? Can a screen tell us the solution perfectly apt for us, pertaining to our personal, emotional or maybe economic circumstances?

The screen that arouses the curiosity fails to find and give the peace the 24×7 working human-mind deserves. It takes it the outer world but fails to let the human learn of the inner universe it possesses. It plays the sounds of the world, but distant the body from the music and rhythm of the soul.

What we had in the past is what we need today more than ever! The social company, the gatherings, of the family and friends, eating dinner on a phone-proof table where we are just conscious of the ‘now’, not worried about anything or even if worried, we’ll have our kith and kin to share our worries with.

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You’re right Women have all the Choice

pexels-photo-210585You were right when you said Women has all the liberty today. She is given every opportunity as good as a man, given as importance as much as a man would get for the similar task. You were right when you said that Women can now decide for herself, her life. She is given Choices now.

I was looking at the options in her choices. There were a lot of options, choices given to her. “I agree; You’re right; My Husband shall take my decision; My Family knows my Answer; I can’t answer; I am not able to answer;” were some of the commonest options for every choice in her life.

Career, Clothes, Spouse, Kids; She’s asked not to worry when the matter is about taking decisions. She can do all the chores capably but at the matters of mind she’s still weak as per the norms. Somehow, even today, it’s the man who thinks he’s the capable gender.

When would the day come when each woman can decide without weighing her responsibilities at one hand, consequences of her decisions at the other. When she is not eyed when she makes a quirky choice for herself. When it’s very natural and common that she takes her own decision and not judged upon the details. Men, I think are going to play a vital role in this. It’s just a matter of a changed perspective. What if we do not see men as perpetrators but barristers of today’s women?

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Maybe some Fantasies are just better than the Reality !

parisI’m a sky-watcher, cloud-gazer. I gaze at the stars, the moon wondering how it’d be like to be there, live there.

I’m also the one who’d get very happy at the sight of an Eagle or an Aeroplane in the vast sky. I would wonder how they fly so flawlessly. I’d wonder who’d be there in the Aeroplane, what they’d be doing? All the irrelevant questions maybe.

Well, I’m also the one who knows that in the world of data and knowledge, finding anything is a matter of minutes. But I don’t want to know. I just want my imagination to wander off to think of what may be happening rather than to seek on what is happening.

Because, it’s intriguing until I don’t know it, it might lose its sense to me, begin to stop giving me the highs that it presents me now.

Maybe some Fantasies are just better than the Reality.