Category Archives: Musing and Thoughts

Writing for me – Elixir of life

 

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Getting married, at an early age- not a child marriage though. It was not the time I intended to get married that is what I meant.

It just led me to grapple enough during the initial phases of my life. It was the time when I felt I should give up and drop away most of the time. I was like a fragile age of 21- which was the budding stage of my career. Work, home and marriage were tough to handle, as I never knew what to prioritize.

Anyways, no repent over the spilt milk.

When I was accentuated out, I spoke to friends, finally, when I thought I was crushing them with my silly grievances, I finally found nirvana in music. Lost in the music, it was easier for me to work along. Even when I was exhausted after work, I plugged in my music and did my household works.

For years this went on if I did ever recall.

I was also someone who enjoyed a lousy day, sleeping all day along, watching movies, doing nothing but just munching on every day. Seems I was never a fortunate one to enjoy it, as I was carrying the burdens of expectation beyond my reach. Managing my own dreams was easier than working on others demands.

Seems I was too exhausted, as I was breaking away and finally gave up my job which was either not meeting my expectations or vice versa.

Then came the blessed moments of my life, which I attribute as the best of my innings and truly the reason that I am happier in my life. Thinking about it buds a smile on me. Indeed the driving force in my life.

When I became a mother, there was a transformation in me, something beyond my expectations. I started to keep myself second in the queues or preferably last and considered to meet the needs of my child first and then the rest and finally me (which never happened though). Motherhood indeed steps us into a different world.  A world beyond imagination – as the feel was tremendous. I was someone like a career-oriented one who focused on winning. But with my little one in my arms, I wanted to just win her smile. Nothing else ever mattered me then.

As years passed on, watching them grow is something I enjoyed the most. Blissful motherhood I could call. But there was a sudden havoc in my so-called mind. I was losing, as I realised I was getting exhausted. I needed to break away, but not on my child or anyone around. It was indeed the call for depression. It scared me more than ever- becoming a demon. This is when I decided to write and became a blogger. It helped me vent out my pressure that was building up. It brought in a realm of happiness in my life – as I could be a happier mother.

Being a mother, I was more confined in the four walls of my home. My thoughts rebounded on me and just made me a lot crazier. With my kids outgrowing my arms, I decided to get back to work, to be a good role model for my children. I wanted to be independent always, even it meant struggling for it. An ongoing struggle though, as my heart has grown brittle over the years.

I smiled all day long, even when I was hell exhausted until I break away on my bed. Poems soothed my mind and eased away my tiredness. I decided to work harder, I know its never easier, but I had my role model in front of me- My mother- She is the strongest person I ever witnessed in my life. She was my silent power, who struggled a lot to pin my life well. Though I never could be like her- she was the tinge of inspiration to me. She taught me to smile – even when there was a havoc in her world. I might not be a good daughter or mother, but I adhered to work ahead on my beliefs, following it even now.

All I do is write, which is my passion. As I write, it just soothes my mind, tantalizing and revitalizing it to face anything that comes along. So even when am completely exhausted, All I do is plug in my headphones and go ahead penning my favourite romantic poems. As I publish them, I am like the little girl who waits for the rewards. I wait eagerly for people to read and tell me what they feel about my writing. At times I pour in my weaknesses, my desires etc., that just pushes me along in my journey.

I am lucky enough to have my passion and profession the same. Writing not only brought back my financial stability but also reproduced a new me to my family and loved ones.

It is true when you are passionate, you never feel exhausted as your mind is always on a running spree. The enthusiasm drives me crazier to write more and relinquishes my frailty.

Writing for me is like an elixir of life.

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Body-shaming- is it just me?

Is body shamming a common thing?

From the very first years of my childhood, I was fat enough I had enough flesh to be shared always. Now its double, maybe I can fill up two or more skinny people with my flesh to make them look fat. 😛

It never bothered me, much but when I was growing up, people around me had gone to a size zero brain -as they started bothering me much. The moment I am eating, they gaze at my plate and start to make annoying faces and laughs that provoked me. At times there had been instances when I wished I threw the plates over their head and bang them. But being foody I decided to munch on my food and forget the size zero people around me.

Clearly, they were negligible to me. As they never appreciated me for what I am, but al wanted me to be what they ever wanted. At that young age, being mocked at eating a plateful of a meal, I was mocked. At times when I am never hungry, I took less to eat like a completely normal person, to which even people found it interesting enough to trigger my anger.

When I reached my teenage level, I felt I was the ugliest, as I was just a friend material – to every boy around me. As I was never the slim-figured one to attract, especially with my rabbit teeth that protruded to a certain again, later it was a gated community for a while with those braces.

Years went by, I couldn’t change my eating habits, so neither I nor my weight compromised until I reached my degree classes. The hostel food was never fascinating to me, hence I decided to starve most often, leading to a pathetic look.

Again I regained the lost pounds, as my mom returned and took me home, bringing hope to my fat body to put on again. I ate enough to get back to my fat self. People underestimated my look to being lazy and slothful. Even when I was into doing many things, better than the size zero or null category.

I do look like a ZERO in terms of my shape, but it doesn’t mean I am a loser.

Body shamming has always come to me at points, wherein I wanted my full confidence to support me. I have always been the neglected ones or the mocked ones, in the crowd. I always took a step back, because I always thought, I would be mocked for what I looked like.

Everyone wanted thin, slim figures, and they thought it was better to be that way. I felt that over a period of time, things will change, but nevertheless did it.

I have observed even my kids, seem to be obsessed about the same. I can feel the strain in her when someone says she is chubby. I tell her, you need not worry it is never a crime to be fat. During my childhood, even now, few find it interesting to pull down someone to feel shameful about their body.

Fat, thin or dark or fair, its all a part of being oneself.

Being a marriage material

I remember a few of my friends from the workplace, even went on for diets and exercises to get married as they thought they would be rejected for being fat. I curiously questioned them, what if you put on weight after the marriage, to which they replied that it is acceptable then.

I did not know -should I be shocked or stunned or surprised.

Our kids- Our future

Let our kids grow into a world, where there is no differentiation of the same. I tell my kids, it is just all about being fit and healthy, nothing else should matter you in terms of your shape or size.

One has to bring up their child to be confident enough to accept herself as she is. Being unique and simple is actually a greater quality.

Walk apart from the same path, and tread away into the rare ones, to be just what you want to be. Let our future generation be never assumed to zero for not being size zero. Let us bring up a healthier generation.

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My trunk full of memories

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Birthdays are always special when it comes to individuals.

The only day, when your parents smile as you lie in their arms and cry.

Being special to them, to be the guiding power in their life to fulfil their dreams is every child’s wish. Growing up seems fun when we are just kids. As the age advances, we always want to return to our childhood.

Every birthday is special right from the age we want to celebrate it. When I was a little girl, all I wanted was those impelling dolls with those blonde hairs locked in those glass-like boxes, which fascinated me.

The very first time I received the gift, I overwhelmingly accepted her into my life. I slept, ate, even took her for bath along with me. Those were the memorable days with my little dolly, who was my friend and companion.
Every day, back from school, I spent hours chit chatting and playing coffee date with her. Since she was my birthday gift, I adored her more than anything else. Slowly as the months passed, the colour began to fade away, yet never stopped admiring those blonde hairs, which was all messy when I combed. She was all mine like I could never be away from her.

As years passed, it stayed in the trunk along with the other things I held so special. It was one day when I decided to walk back into the lanes of my golden memories, where I was just Me and none else.

I missed the very Me enclosed in that trunk along with those precious ones I held dear like my memories, one day I will also fade away from the trunk and go into the deep slumber.

I wish I am also held in a closed box, in someone’s memory as I am gone… like my toys I kept safe for years.

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Emotional burst out and Me

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Have you ever experienced a turmoil of emotions riding in your head, and all you want is to expel it from your thoughts?

And finally, you end up doing is to be silent.

The thoughts subside for a while but keep stirring your emotional balance for a while.

It is hard to let go the thoughts, and it keeps killing you slowly like a slow poison. It always happens to me, that I am emotionally crunched and feel like devastated, unable to express my overdue feelings that I have arrested with my daily chores. For a moment I want to explode like a volcano, but all I do is become freeze like an ice, aching my own bones, with the coldness of my soul.

It is not just us, who feels this, even a smaller kid close to 3-4 years can feel it too. We all need to study the art of expelling the fury that we build inside us.  An interesting piece I heard from an elderly, is that piercing the ears can help to get your anger to subside. I wondered how, but it is said that ear contains certain nerves, that can help reduce this tension and help us focus more on other things, rather than bursting out in anger.

I don’t know how far it is true, as even with my both ears pierced my raging anger never walks away from me. It has befriended my soul, that it remains here like being thick friends.

Emotions play a vital role, attaining emotional stability is no ease. This hypersensitivity is more profoundly found in people who are highly empathetic, who can easily understand the other persons’ emotional feelings or suffering.

Letting your emotions flow out well is important to maintain the stability of your mind. It is better to deviate your mind, into some other things, to help you feel better.

 

Being a mom is more about resilience…

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Image Credits: Pixalbay

At times a piece of me always wants to be around you, just to watch you grow. Missing that would be a great loss for me, as all these while I witnessed everything with you, the firsts. It can be termed as something I want to keep it for myself.

I remember the very first touch of your skin in my hands, as I cherish it to be the most memorable one in my life. The moments of redemption that seeps out of me, when you both were born, is exceeding my vision of words. It is a unique feeling, that keeps me motivated all along.

At times when someone asks me, why with all these pain, I endured all along, the difficulties of pregnancy period, that I longed for the next child.

I really don’t know what to answer them, because the joy of watching my kids play together, gives me the answer, which is tough to convey in my words. I see them grow, in every way, like I grew with my sibling.  All these years watching them grow up fades away the pain I endured, bringing me a smile that stays forever until I just have the faintest thought about the pain or stress I had gone through all those months.

Resilience with my self

During the first, pregnancy, it was all the eagerness to know how it will be. As I became a mother for the first time, the joy was profound. It was the beginning of a journey, of a new mom to being a good mom to her, slowly learning through her at every stage. It surprises me, at times, as I am ignorant of what a mother should do in several stages .. Yet I just confidently without taking a step back, walk steadily towards nothing but a goal that is changing every year, as she grows up.

Acceptance 

With my second pregnancy, it was all about, how the upcoming baby would be with my first one. Yes, this is what worried me the most, other than the basic worrisome thoughts about being healthy etc. It is again a roller-coaster ride across the months to balance, emotionally and physically being with both kids.

Understanding the needs of the elder one, compromising on sleep and much more.

Growing up with them is much more fun and learning too. I guess I never learned this much, as much I am learning from being a mother.

Adapting myself 

It is again a greater problem, for me as a person to adapt. At times our inner self is so adamant even to give up to a small child.  It is common, that you might find me still fighting with my kid just like the worst kid at times. It leads me just to think, that AM I actually a mom? Because I am totally weird when I fight with them, even for the silliest things.

Setting an example pressure

OOPS, The big challenge as I say. I am not someone good to be followed – as I am completely indisciplined, and more like a child who is unwilling in many scenarios. I might actually be the big bad example for kids “NOT to FOLLOW”.

It is hard, not to be oneself at times. I can’t act like a perfect mom, and the be a spoiler alert to my kids, instead am the most vulnerable person they might find. One who breaks down, who fails, who is shy, who is incompetent and much more…

so AM I a bad mother?

I really don’t know, what to answer that, but yet I am just a mother who wants to keep her children happier and well-kept.

Even though I break down at many points, wish to quit, or just run away or hide, a part of me, wants to be discovered by those tiny hands who hold me tight, so as I do not fall apart. They make me feel worthwhile, even when the whole world seems to look at me as if I am doing a bad job at being a mom.

For ME, all about being a mom, make me feel enough worthy to be alive.