A Quiet Revolution Within

 

Looking back, what’s one transformation of yours you couldn’t believe yourself?

Answer: ACCEPTANCE of yourself.

As a child, I was in a dangerously insecure zone — partially due to studying in a same-gender school (anyone who has attended an all-girls’ school or college might relate to me), and partially due to the bullies I had to encounter.

As the years rolled by, a hard truth set in:

In the culture I am a part of, you need to be rich — or at least look rich. One’s past or appearance doesn’t matter. You need to climb the social ladder in order to receive special treatment.

At this point in life, I actually dream about the life that has passed. Though I don’t have much to look back on, my whole life seems to drift by like a dream. From a pragmatic perspective, you will leave, your memories will leave, your people will accept the new world without you. The world will still go on.

I’m not big on clothing myself in the latest fashion attires. I prefer my good old kurtas and bottoms, salwars, and a saree on occasion. My younger self would have felt timid among people in modern outfits. At this stage, I don’t care.
I am my choices.
Give me a smouldering look — I don’t give a damn. You aren’t the one paying my bills.

Last but not least: my dark, not-so-differentiable facial features. Some might call me average or ugly, but I don’t care. Beauty and youth aren’t permanent options. They eventually fade away.

And that’s me. I hate calling myself confident.
But I am comfortable in my own skin.