Tuesday, September 27, 2011

What My Words Told Me

At the peak of my so called good times, when I am bursting with happiness, all I do is live the moment and emote best, with a big wide smile. And when my heart is sinking the most, the writer in me suddenly emerges out. Strange theory isn’t it? Maybe words have that magic of not letting you feel alone, of telling you constantly as to how they are a mirror. A mirror, to your true self.

Human emotions have always intrigued me to great levels. What we do, when we do it, why did that/a particular thing happen sometimes has no reason, logic or explanation to it. Despite being a cheerful person, I would surprise my own self as my anger would plan to ambush my patience every now and then.   Or my naturally impulsive instincts would simply take a back seat at the most unexpected moments.

On my 10th birthday my Dad gifted me a Secret Diary. It had a little heart shaped lock on it, which managed to completely thrill me, as it was my first encounter with concealed emotions. I began writing what I truly felt, ever since. At times, I spoke to my Diary in the most contented spirit and sometimes in a servile tone.

Reading it now feels like doing a crash course on myself. 
The conflict of two minds within yourself, what is right and what is wrong, what is acceptable and what is not (to you/ your loved one/ society), from what makes you happy to what angers you, from what can hurt you to what it takes to win your heart. There is so much depth in each of us and yet we are busy figuring out everyone and everything else. So much drama! I learnt about things I had forgotten and decided to forget about things that I held onto, pointlessly. That is when I realized that how; sometimes writing almost becomes a shield. Luckily for me I grew up to be an outspoken person yet a part, like everyone, was reserved just for me and my hidden words.  

Always been too scared to make mistakes and obsessed with doing the right thing. It is like an addiction, to be perfect. And if I stumbled, forgiving myself was the hardest thing to do.

Now, my own words made me realize that there would always be a difference between whom you are and who you wish to be. With the passing years and a handful of mistakes I realized that it is not all that bad to falter at times. Because when I decide to question myself as to WHO is it that I really wish to be, I would not have to speculate. I WOULD KNOW IT.

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