Tag Archives: advice

Self Destruction: Lesser Confidence, Body Shaming

One of the best lines I have heard in these few days (from one of my friends)- “It has been four years for now that a thing has hampered my confidence in any slightest way.” This one sentence triggered me to think and rethink about the way I’m living, the purpose and the little things that destruct me.

It is such a rare thing for anyone to tell, in a world where people take criticisms to the heart, who live for the sake of satisfying others, who do things just to get good credits and who live trying hard to impress others. In such situations, it becomes so easy to pierce a person and kill their confidence.

Few busy days, few free ones. In both the cases, you just need few seconds to doubt yourself, your deeds, your worth; to kill something which was built working hard for years. That’s the worst you can ever do to yourself- Ā turning self destructive.

Body shaming is one of the things that I’ve come across. Unless and until you’re confident about each of your atom, you cannot expect others to respect you. If you are confident about yourself then it would not even matter if someone criticizes. It took me a lot of time to accept that it is okay to be skinny as I am and there’s nothing wrong in that.

Dears,

Those confused thoughts, misty questions, unpoised face. That’s not you. That’s just a mask. There’s more. Underneath the skin, beyond everyone’s bounds, into the veins, among the misfits, you’re more, more than anyone can measure. You’re the one who is fit for it. A beautiful, thrilling soul that many crave for. If you mask it, doubt it, isn’t it unfair? You’re the one. You are it.
Trust. Believe.
Faith?
Yes, faith!

Loads of love,
The Mirthful Moon

And then comes ‘over confidence’. There’s just a thin line between both and we should make sure that we don’t bloat with pride. šŸ™‚

 

Have a confident day, beautiful soul!

 

 

 

Swooning with the stranger in you

You find so many things on the way. The withering leaves, shrivelling tree bark, gaily faces, drooling ones, tender leaf blade that just saw an inch of land, a sand grain holding a bead of sweat, a surgical knife with blood that many are living for, two ignorant eyes with false hopes, a harassed soul, a soul with a bunch of hard earned notes.. and many different strangers ..

Out of all these, we are all a stranger to ourselves, few interesting lost pieces, trying to find ourselves in others. Every day, every moment, we try to find the self. A beautiful stranger indeed. There are more to these tiny, imperfect things that we find on our way. To find the mysterious, creative stranger in you, look more into things, in an enrapturing way. There’s a different meaning to what you see in others. They’re broken because of something, they’re not greedy since their birth, there’s beauty behind their ignorance, there’s a flow of lines behind every broken heart. Go, find it- you’ll find yourself. A new stranger.

When I see a broken heart, I’m just a stranger helping it fix. IĀ find a fallen leaf and I’m a stranger who’s admiring its imperfections. I’ll be swooning, with my first hard earned award in my hand and I’m that stranger who blushes looking at her love.
Just, a stranger, trying to mend your soul. By a smile or by whatever it takes.

Learning to swoon with the stranger in me, you helped me find it. If I’m a ruptured soul, dear stranger, will you help me mend it?

The Abyss With Dimensions

She pondered over her fatherā€™s illness and their financial crunch. Her satin lilac skirt and a contrasting blouse not only claimed her naivete, also making her sweat in the sweltering summer noon. The parched road she was walking along had tiny shady shops alongside; colourful candy shops, the smiths, umbrella repairer, grocery store and few others still bearing the essence of village tradition. It was one of those days where she was clueless of lifeā€™s happenings. Sudden demise of her mother few days back, the breadwinner, shattered her. Dreams of moving into a cottage like that of her close friend Raniā€™s, granddaughter of the village mayor were burnt to vapoursā€” her tiny castle of extravagant hopes.

Her dusky skin shred drops of sweatā€” of grief and fearā€” she was responsible to raise her sister and run her house there after. Recollecting her momā€™s advices that you are your own helping hand in your life, she walked and explored places every afternoon in search of an earning. That day was a bit unusual. She had a destination. A vagabond in his forties, who is usually spotted near the village temple every summer selling bangles promised to offer her a job a day before. He claimed to have the best quality bangles that carried a charm with it. She was unsure about everything that moment. Trusting her immature instincts, she went to the person for a job, a final call of her heart to survive.

ā€œPeople usually are not satisfied with anything in their lives. They try to measure the dimensions of the abyss they create. To add up, people just daftly compare theirs with otherā€™s nonexistent abyss. Once you stop all of thatā€” you start living, you start admiring and valuing the present. The dimensions are your illusionā€, he said in his husky voice before even greeting her. Ā She was stunned by the profoundness of words that he spilt.

Looking back, she cannot just ignore the vagabondā€™s eminence in the way her lifeā€™s outlook changed. Now, being in her late thirties in a cozy and comfortable apartment of her own, she recollects the girl wearing lilac skirt with all illusory dreams, the changeover, and the journey until now. ā€˜The way you dream can destroy your dreamsā€™, she told her eleven year old who was pinned to her electronic device. She had her own set of life lessons to be learnt.