'How many years must some people exist before their allowed to be free… the answer my friend is blowing in the wind, the answer is blowing in the wind" – Bob Dylan
I believe that even when you are at your absolute lowest, the universe will find ways to help and support you. Our prayers are always answered in the most unexpected ways - maybe it will take the form a smile from a stranger across an empty bus at night, or a kind message from a friend who lives far a way, a surprise delivery from your parents or in my case – the soft crooning of blind key board player in a crowded subway station on a Monday morning.
It was the beginning of the week but I was utterly and completely exhausted. It seemed that the harder that I tried to please the people in my life, the harder that I tried to fit in, the harder that I tried to say the right the thing, wear the right clothes, be seen in the right places at the right time, on the right occasions – the harder I seemed to fall flat on my face.
I had had just about enough – over the past few months I had driven myself to absolute distraction. My hair was a mess, my eyes perpetually swollen from lack of sleep, my lips often torn and bloody, from obsessively chewing on them while my mind went around the same circle. The answers were as elusive as the questions were simple – why. Why me? Why now? Why this? Why again? Why? Why? WHY? WHYWHYWHYWHY?
I had just as I consigned myself to never knowing or understanding why sometimes even though we do our best to love and please someone or someone's, we are rejected – the universe in all its wisdom decided that I was ready for the answer, maybe only through the only way that it knew I would listen – not through the words of a concerned parent, an exasperated friend or a well meaning acquaintance –but through the powerful lyrics of my one time favourite song.
It sent a rude shock to my system. The song it seemed was being sung directly and pointedly at me, the entire world seemed to be shouting – how long can you exist until YOU allow yourself to be FREE? How long indeed.
I am what I am – a series of beautiful contradictions. I love getting ready for a night out and being admired and complimented but equally I am also someone that loves spending evenings at home in my father's loose t-shirt and an old pair of basketball shorts. I am a girl who reads Maurakami and Chetan Bagat with equal fervour. Yes, I believe that some of the most important life lessons are contained in two places – the poetry of Rumi and the Bollywood movie Queen (seriously go watch it). I am sometimes bubbly, sometimes silent, sometimes wise, sometimes silly, sometimes confident, sometimes insecure and sometimes everything all at once. On some days I am compassionate and kind and on another's I am less than proud of the way I act. I am not who I was yesterday and I am not who I will be tomorrow.
The moment I accepted who I was, was also the moment that I realised that the 'freedom' that I was seeking was not going to be found in being appreciated by someone else but in the realisation that, even if I wasn't everyone's cup of tea, I liked me. At the end of the day, THAT was the only opinion that really mattered.
Funny how the moment I was recognized the beauty in myself, I awakened to the beauty all around me – beautiful titled art all along the subway walls, two girls brazenly kissing each other, an old couple holding hands (clichéd I know, but as I say to all my critics, there is a reason why clichés are clichés), three frisky children laughing and chasing each other around while their father attempted to chastise them, unable to hide his smile.
Outside the personal hell I created for myself in my mind, the world had continue to spin. There was colour and light and love and life in all its variety to be found even in a crowded subway station on a Monday morning – a fact that I was blind to only seconds before.
So in a promise to be as authentic as I can be, I have returned to my first love – the written word. This time I shall share my writing publically and not in obscure online communities of anonymous writers (eep!). You will find here stories that are anecdotal, some fictional, and some fantastical. I don't pretend to know the answers to any of life's 'big' questions nor do I have prescriptions on how anyone should or shouldn't live their lives. All artists (okay in my case aspiring artists) are inspired by real life and even though I will try to protect identities, maybe one day as you read my stories and we have crossed paths you will find yourself in one of them – if you do and are offended, I sincerely apologise and I hope you take it with a pinch of salt because the lens is uniquely my own.
If you are lead to this page and I say 'lead' because I have come to believe strongly in what someone I loved very much used to a say – 'serendity is simply intention unmasked.' I hope my story/ stories help you in someway and you find some answers - as I did in the music of one solo keyboard player on an uneventful Monday morning. Even if you do not find any answers I do hope that you are able to derive solace in a world that can sometimes make us all feel from time to time totally isolated.