Photo Credits:instagram account rewilding for women
Can Darkness can be attractive to light warriors? Makes me wonder is it fearlessness or is it familiarity? Is it stepping out off comfort zone or stepping into it? Some of us need a storm to feel safe! Conflict seem familiar territory. Trouble feels home. We don’t see things as they are we see things as we are. Perhaps, knowing your own darkness makes it easy to deal with darkness in others. Perhaps accepting yourself helps accepting others easier. Those triggers in close interaction and all that pain help us to understand those un-loveable parts of us that shows up during the conflicts. Those might be opportunities to relate better. Growth lies in owning up those dark parts of self that are so difficult to accept. In learning to be our own friend, we learn to befriend others. So, I ponder, your darkness might be an opportunity for me to grow, while my darkness can be a trigger to your journey of self awareness. So, it is for us to see….. Where do we go now?
Girls in India are repeatedly told that their stay in parents’ houses is temporary. They don’t “belong” there. This narrative continuously plays in their mind all the time like background music in a TV show. So growing up suffering this lack of roots or anchor to hold on to, is very confusing. It is full of uncertainty. The feeling of “belonging” somewhere is extremely important for anyone to feel safe. After all, Home is not just a place, it is a sentiment.
Let us turn to our history and mythology. Sita is worshipped and remembered for her selflessness and her sacrifices. We all know, it wasn’t fair play. To be honest, being a feminist, I have always questioned this. Then over the time, I “conditioned myself” to silence my thoughts. One may argue that love invites sacrifice. Maybe. Till day Radha Krishan stay embodiment of eternal love. Many claim them to be twin flame. However, like Sita, Radha, too did not get her due! Worshiped? True! Regardless, Rukmani stole the show. Meera cried as her heart bled. In devotion, was her heavenly bliss. Longing for redemption! Tolerating endless life threatening torture. For invisible God Krishna. Who was worshipped by all but loved by her. It was considered blasphemy. I think, more than anything else, it was her faith in Krishna’s love, that brought him into existence. Are sacrifices an essential certificate for determining a woman’s greatness? Is it so? Social conditioning and beliefs makes it so normal to for women to force themselves to fit in the expectations of others. To forego their identities. On the other hand in mythology there is also reference of Shakti and Durga. Worshipped as a symbol of power. Magnificent. Formidable. Fierce. Shiva’s consort Parvati, is perhaps more nearer to an ideal. Through Ardhanareeswara, religion did depict the message of woman being equal to man. Both complimenting each other. Sadly, that is never highlighted. This epitome of equality has been underplayed by the religious leaders for centuries to control, rule and dominate women. So, Sita, more an example than Parvati who on several occasions disagreed with Shiva. An ideal feminine energy, embodying devotion and yet having her own identity.
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In contemporary time you can safely blame it on Disney! You grew up reading fairy tales…Be it Snow White, Cinderella or Rapunzel, they were all saved by charming, competent, wealthy kings. Redemption! Easy assumption. Adorable and knave. Were all these gorgeous women really hostages? Or did they let themselves be? Living in fantasy is a coping mechanism. Shortcut to escape the pain. Avoiding ownership for creating a meaningful existence.
Don’t get deceived by all these stories. There is no one showing up for your liberation. No one like that exists. Be prepared to be your own prince charming! Reclaim yourself.
Dear woman, to be or not be, is not for you to see anymore! It has always been a man’s world, and it will be until you let it be! So today, rise like a Phoenix and “be” what you want… Know your true worth. To remember who you are, you need to forget, who others told you to be. Let that love you relentlessly shower on others, be yours. Create your destiny. Be an independent, capable, confident, and powerful woman.
“What is that you truly desire?” A twinkle in Lucifer’s deep eyes would force all to reveal their hidden desires. He closely observed them as the human struggled to get away from his clutches…
Today the overwhelm and restlessness was making him pace in the room. Alcohol seemed ineffective in drowning his anxiety. Why on earth was he thinking about emotions? Those insignificant nothings! Humans were weak for they gambled with them. He was unable to gather what had started this chain of thoughts. It is always the voice in the head that wants to control the narrative. It seems to want all the answers.
He struggled with trying to know his own desires. Unable to distinguish between feelings and sensations. The only emotions he had ever understood were being “happy” and “unhappy” . Simple. No complexity. Why? Alexithymia, is it?
As a child, he had always managed himself well. Strong and always in control. He learned this as he was told crying and emotions were for girls. Men were brave. Brave? Or emotionless? As a young boy, he struggled to receive from his Dad an acknowledgment for recognition for being himself. His worth. Often dismissed as insignificant, not meeting those expectations his parents had from him. He struggled and gave up. His silent cries could not reach his father’s heart then and his silent sighs go unheard even now. Emotions defy time and age. Boundaries or walls? Or just perceptions? A path to cognitive disassociation.
Distant cold mess. Unforgiving his parents for letting him be what he was. He hated himself for the meaningless storm and rage he carried. A fire constantly burned within him. A Hell!
Today, unable to brush aside his overwhelm, he stood in front of the mirror and looked in his own ember eyes with that familiar twinkle… What is that you truly desire..?
His reflection echoed… “I desire to get rid of all my fears!” “Fears?” His devils reflection seemed to nudge. Lost in introspection he sighed. The reflection continued to speak in his mind… “Fear of my own individuality, fear of my essence as a being and above all fear of being loved as I am!”
“Impossible!” Echoed another voice somewhere. Loud and clear. Drowning all the chatter.
Silence. The darkness began to rise in the eternal night. Upsurged within him together the shame and sorrow; resentment and wild rage that could destroy humanity. He detested humans for their selfishness, greed and all the vices, however, he hated himself more for all the wrath and vengeance he carried in his heart.
But, anger is not always anger! It can be all the emotions you can’t express. Anger springing up from insecurity, betrayal, helplessness, from feeling unworthy, sad, frustrated, and anger for Alexithymia itself!
There is more good in a person but the society always points to what is not. All the emotional obsession with chaos, itself is a reconstruction of complicated trauma.
Hemp giving the same intensity of dopamine that love did. Flirtations games and addictions, the same amount of adrenaline rush. The emotional states unleashed, unmindfully! Cognitive distraughtion. Anger, grief, shame, sadness seem to drown in liquor, all those painful experienced would have healed the so-called invincible being trying to escaping the matrix!
God smiled at his son meaningfully, “Son, remember that you have free will to abandon or to accept. Being worthy is a choice. Undoubtedly, healing is messy!”
It is not about changing the world, on which we have no control but recognizing own worth. It is noteworthy that you can take your power back by accepting all the pain and the hurt others caused you. Accept yourself, you still are worthy. Self regulate. Choose to ask this anger- where do you come from? Why am I feeling all this anger? What is that I need to focus on? What do I fear? Why, what, how ?
So now, do look in the mirror and ask what it is that I truly want to be? What all you want will surely follow when you are determined. Reset. Reclaim. Be the authentic being you are meant to be!
Life keeps tossing challenges at us every day like a ping pong ball. Ping…pong… I can visualize it right now. 🙂
What has ping pong to do with challenges?
Well, today I am writing after a long time. These days usually I have to write reflection as I am going through therapy for my PTSD which is usually very heavy stuff to share.
However, today, on the Independence Day, I reflect as an Indian. Many times we want to do great things for our country. We are filled with patriotic flavour, especially on these days when we celebrate the Independence Day or Republic day or when India wins the World Cup! We as masses are swept in this wave of ecstatic patriotism flooding through everything we do. We go wishing everyone, sending messages on social media, the color of dishes, dresses, the decoration theme of the entire nation is tricolors. Sadly, the wave recedes with the same intensity with which it arose. Within a day of broadcasting the celebrations, the news surges with the usual crime, fraud, corruption, rape, and murder headlines. The wave that seemed to have immersed the entire nation in patriotic flavor dries as if it never prevailed.
So, where is the gap? Personally, I feel we need to be mindful of what we do and how we live to be a real patriot. People who do or have done so much for the country, are the people who live from an awareness of what role they have in the country.
This quote always stays in my mind, I don’t know who wrote this, I often quote it during my lectures.
“Do what you can, Being who you are. Be a glow-worm, If you cannot be a star, Be a pully, If you cannot be a crane. Be a wheel greaser, If you cannot drive a train!”
It dates back to 2017. Having been bedridden for a few months due to spinal cord injury. I thought I had lost it to life. I lost my job and missed my usual routine. All I dreamt was to walk on my feet, day and night. After spells of crying and helplessness, one day I decided. I gathered all my will power and committed myself to my healing. I got acupressure treatment, yoga, and physiotherapy. My entire focus was on getting back on my feet. I was dreading a life on a wheelchair. Those were the days that changed me in and out. As soon as I was able to walk I started the walk in the park. Initially, I was giddy and could take only one or two rounds of a park. It took me six months to be able to walk as average people did. As I was going through a rough patch in my married life, I was also emotionally unstable. I started going to Sukhna lake for a walk everyday. It took me 1 hour and 25-35 minutes to walk from end to the other and back. Within 3 months my stamina increased. There was an event walk-a-thon( a walk for cause) for awareness for organ donation and as I started walking with the youngsters of college and school, in no time I was at the other end. To my amazement I was the first one to reach the end in almost 15 minutes and was awarded a certificate. I was feeling so proud of myself on my “achievement”.
So very delighted!
As I reached the other end towards the parking, I saw a man who had just one leg, doing push ups. He was wearing a Tshirt with national flag. All my pride was humbled in minutes as I saw him workout with so much difficulty. I have always been an introvert, but that day I gathered my courage to talk to this man.
I walked to him and introduced myself. I told him I was school teacher and asked if he could tell me what happened. He told me that he was a national Table Tennis champion and while saving a child in an accident, he lost his leg. Now, he represented India in para games, regularly bringing laurels in international table tennis events. He had been awarded a gallantry award and numerous prizes. I would always remember meeting Mr. Mukesh Kumar that day. While it humbled me, it instilled in me, a zeal to do what was in my capacity, giving my hundred percent. This reiterated to me, that living with awareness is true patriotism. Jai hind!
Subject: Your mother’s apology for deficit parenting.
My Dear Children,
I wish life would have been like a Sci-Fi movie, required ‘customised’ software would get download in parents brains the moment a child was born. A software; tailor-made and customised as per the needs of that unique child that was born. A software that would instruct the parent’s brains to handle the child as per his instruction manual effortlessly. And believe you me, the world would be a better place in no time!
Today research has proven that the behavioural issues, mental health issues and many unsuccessful people have childhood issues as the root cause.
In Indian society, the child is supposed to bind and cement the marriage. How ironical that a relationship that two married adults and their families can not “fix” is expected to be cemented by a small 2.5kg bundle of love who doesn’t even know who he/she was!
At 24 years, I was holding in my arms a bundle of joy… I was a mother at that time when I did not fully understand what parenting meant. Then again at 30 years. Looking back is not easy for me today.
Dear children, as I go picking up my scattered pieces I realize that the residue was piercing you. The fragments of me exist in you. With all my weakness as an immature mother, I tripped time and again. With no formal parenting education, all I could do was to experiment with my instincts to give you what I considered the best. When I became a mother I did not know that it is in this role my best and the worst comes to play. I have at times collapsed under the pressure of maintaining our existence, work and attending to your needs (physiological, emotional, mental). I have many regrets. I “could have” and “should have” are many… However today I am writing this apology for having not come up to mine and your expectations and for having not known better. However, with the new realization (acquired as a result of my facing my own mental health issues and traumas) I promise to be more mindfully present for you. Will try to rectify my parenting deficits. This life is a journey and the cycle will continue in each generation. Love grows when we let go of all the grudges and build trust and acceptance. Thank you for being my bundles of joy! May God bless you as you continue to grow into wonderful human beings.
Love
Monika
Emotional turmoil.
Midnight cries.
Love- a mirage.
Fading smoke.
You, Chasing a fish?
Is it a catch?
Is it hit or amiss?
Are people lucky?
Or is it Destiny?
Emotions subdued.
Feelings bruised.
Whoever wins, I lose.
Senses seduced.
Strange high.
Escape trial,
Self Denial!
Don’t you cry…!
People are dry.
False promises,
Are suffocating.
Be in control.
You are whole!
Dreams are fragments.
Imagination segments.
Exist and strive.
Soul will revive.
Take a pause.
For yourself
Applaud!
Dreams can be strangers, Dreams can be friends, Dreams can be invaders, Dreams can invent. In them we get lost, In them we unite. In beautiful days we delight, When things go smooth and Life is dream-like, we smile We gather memories, we delight When it gets hard, we feel crushed We call it nightmare and try to hush. We hate our plight, The fact is that whatever may it be, One day we’ll leave, this abode Let’s ponder where we go, Let’s reflect on what we do. Before the fate strikes!
Not noticing the young boy, in blue uniform she collided with him and he fell into the open drain running parallel to the street.
“I am sorry” she said, as she looked at him in the mess.
She knew from the uniform that he was an intern at the college where her father was a Dean, under the British.
“Let me help you, I can lend you my father’s clean clothes”, she offered.
Not wanting to enter his hostel smelling like sewer he accepted the help that was being offered.
“Dad it was all my fault”, she explained apologetically, as the Dean eyed his favourite student covered in filth.
“Take a shower and wear these clothes then come down for dinner, I will inform the hostel warden that you will stay with me tonight”, instructed the Dean.
He had a memorable evening, enchanted by her smile and smitten by the dimple on her left cheek.
Soon their wedding was announced and preparations started with enthusiasm.
The beautifully adored Indian bride awaited her groom.
He did come, thought not alive as his car met with a fateful accident. The news she couldn’t survive, in death did they unite. Instead of the holy fires, to witness promises for ever, there lit the two lovers’ pyres.
When we talk of ♥ we associated with emotions like love. Is it really so ? There are lots of sayings….warm hearts, cold hearts, clean hearts, mean hearts, light hearts, sweet hearts… 💓
“Two hearts beat as one”, they say to those who are in love. While at loss of affection the “hearts get broken” , trouble makes one’s “heart bleed”.💔
Happiness makes “heart gladden” 💖. His “heart was in his mouth”, after having “gone out!” Sometimes the “heart is in highlands”. Sometimes “heart is all over the place”.💞 How does heart acquire a personality?
💘 When people meet, something happens, something goes boeing! Surely, it is the living, loving heart that react and gets excited at the sight of the beloved person. 💓
Damn it!! But heart is just a pump!
An automatic blood pumping machine that can be replaced! How come heart symbolize love? It is believed that we subconsciously remember our mother’s heart beat. So, heart was at first metaphor for motherly love and later became so for romantic love.💗
So what sends the signal of love through our bodies? Today in the age of science we know that it is Adrenal Gland! The very idea is revolting!!! Imagine adrenal gland-a little piece adhering to the kidneys.
It is hard to picture it on a Valentine!
The previous definition of love 💝 as “heart to heart connection” can now be replaced with- “A renal-adrenal-cardiomuscular epithelial relationship between two pulmonary arteries…..”
Imagine a heart♥ beating, pulsing, flapping valves, opening and closing. How much does one owe to this little struggling thing. It’s alive, it’s working hard, nearly 100,000 times a day, it beats. It’s no doubt hardworking hero, an unappreciated friend, worthy enough to represent a sentiment like love♥ .
(Similar to what Shakespeare said)
My heart♥ goes to my ♥ heart and I must pause….till it comes back to me!
Musings - An Endeavour to writing 