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There is a war inside us

There is war going inside us all the times.

There is a terrain, miles away from here, where the war in going on.

With people killing other people, hating their very own kind with all their might.

Are they hating others or only themselves?

Are they thirsty for power or of feeling worthy?

Are they shedding blood or all the humanity?

Why did we started killing in the first place and stopped killing in the second?

Why is it that despite the centuries of sins and terror we sustained as a race?

Was it an outcome of the deity or our innate need to love each other?

Why are we threatened by the one who is different?

For they are the very reason, this race survived.

If there were no deer there wouldn’t be a beast.

If there were no flowers, there wouldn’t be a tree.

How could we spare the time to hate each other when we have so little time left with us and the people, who are also in this little time, longing for nothing but love?

We didn’t forgive the one who hurt us or could we not forgive ourselves?

Our naïve selves that did not know any better, our innocent hearts that fell in the ploy of being alive; that is inherently capable of making mistakes for the sake of survival.

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Embracing Pink Upon Coming Out

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As a teenager I used to wear nothing but black. Apart from school uniforms all my cloths let it pants, t-shirts, caps, even shoes used to be black. I did not think twice when I had buy cloths, I knew I felt “comfortable” in the colour. However, it was not long ago that I realized wearing black was much deeper for me than the colour itself.

Upon growing up, the more and more I understood about people and myself, I realized how different I am than others. In teens especially, I could not connect to exploration about the body and tendencies that most people around me felt. I neither fit into hetero-normative ideas nor into the box of woman.

Wearing cloths that were black, represented darkness, it stood for being invisible. I was trying to be invisible all those years. I did not liked to be seen, for one reason, I saw no scenario that I could ever be seen. I knew the moment I would show the world who I am, I would be ripped into pieces, that I would die either of violence or because of shame. Black was also mourning for the death of the part of me that could never see light and colours.

Coming out as gay, when it happened, it felt like a ray of light, like the one that falls on your face that wakes you up early morning. And when that moment happened, the space that was once darkness was filled with colours. Not instantaneously, maybe not even for a long time, but it did.

After coming out, I started to see the beauty in colours. As if I could feel, the pride flag is colourful for a reason. In the shopping mall, I picked up a plain pink t-shirt. I wore it and looked in the mirror, it looked so different on me, in the most beautiful possible way. A tear rolled through my eyes with my arms embracing my body. Almost feeling sorry for being hidden for so long and feeling utter joy that I made it till here, at the same time.

I used to be repelled by pink, more than any colour. I did not want to be in the “feminine” box more than masculine, I felt it was for the “weak”. But to see that colour on me, and to feel it deeper in my skin, was a moment of acceptance of every part that I had denied; the femininity, the beauty, the emotions, the nurturing, the love inside me. I wouldn’t choose to go back in the dark, not even for a second.

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My honest answers to ‘Your Money or Your Life’ Chapter 1

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I bought one of the best-seller ‘Your Money or Your Life’ by Vicki Robin and Joe Dominguez earlier this year because I wanted to improve my relationship with Money. To describe my relationship, I’m slightly phobic to the use of money and I also have hard time enjoying even when I have enough. There maybe several reasons behind it which I cannot explain, hence I picked this book. While this book provides 9 steps to transforming our relationship with Money and achieving Financial Independence, it also has a set of interesting questions at the end of every chapter called ‘Money Talk Questions’. Here are my answers for Chapter 1 which I noted down but never thought would let it our on public platform:

Who gave me first lessons about money and what did I learn?

I was too young when I learnt about money and how it affects our lives. It was not exactly honest talk. My dad owns a business so there were many physical form of money that came in and went out of house. Upon asking about it, I vaguely remember it, dad told me we are blessed by the money Goddess and we don’t run out of money. Which is supposed to be a gratitude lesson but I took too much pride for the fact that my family owned more money than my friends. No shame no blame. Now that I think I think of it, my dad was trying to pay gratitude to the deity he worshiped. So from that lesson, my take away right now is to always have gratitude of what I have and/or am given, from my work or generosity of others. Thank the universe.

What messages did I get about money growing up? Where did you get them from?

Money talk has always been cringe and uncomfortable. We often hear “money can’t buy happiness”, which maybe be true but I remember talking about it to my mom. She told me when your loved one in on the hospital bed and you find out only money can save them or could have saved them, you realize having money is so important. I empathize with her because clearly she was talking about her mother, whom she lost very young on hospital bed. So money is a requirement for our essentials and safety for ourselves and our loved ones.

I can’t recall any professor having a good talk about finances, not even in economics class. Our tutor used to lecture us about money in order to get his tuition fee on time. He constantly used to talk about competition in outside world, especially in college and professional life. He said it is not easy to make it in real world without money regardless of your talent. He was not a good professor. Although money is a huge requirement for education which I learnt ,not from him, but my experiences. My parents bought their children’s future with their years long earned money.

A “positive” talk about money never happened.

My mom says Gold is an investment. I never saw them using it exactly other than materialism. But I do get the idea of selling or pawning it, in the time of need.

Talk about an early memory of money and how it affects me

I think the first answer is my earliest memory with money. It affects in the manner, I do not exactly have an unlimited money. I felt slightly deceived. I hear these stories of rich people going broke and it scares me a bit. What if I’m a fraud and I can’t make it in real world and I could not even manage to ask my parents because of my poor decisions.

I just realized through my first memory that it’s my dad’s money not mine. I felt indebted of him for giving us what he earned and I still do at times. I never truly embraced that he is my father and he is supposed to provide for me. Now that I’m grown up and educated and I can earn by myself, it has become not easier to feel that way.

What does “Enough” mean to me?

Enough means to me that I have earned enough to stand on my own two feet. I’m capable to make a living and also support a person or two, by that I mean a family. Enough for our needs, house, shelter, clothing, leisure. Enough to me also means to have as much or ability to make it on national as well as international grounds, and be safe in my identity and secured in my living. Live a life of dignity.

What do I have that I would be better off without? Why do I keep it?

I have this couple of books that I bought and could never truly read it or understand it when I tried. They were expensive purchases and I can’t throw it away, nor have I found someone who could take on the custody. I would hate for it and the content to go to waste. I think I would read it but I don’t, which brings on unnecessary shame.

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When you’re ready for Love but Love isn’t for you

Last night I had a romantic dream that straight up made me cry in the morning. I was feeling upset and I thought it may be for tummy reasons but later the dream hit me real hard and I started crying on my couch.

I have been single for a long time. Not that I don’t enjoy being alone but holidays like Christmas and Valentine’s day always get to me.

Last night I had a dream about seeing a celebrity at a party. I was surprised but soon enough my eyes gazed towards someone else across the room, it was my crush from three years ago. In real life, we were friends for some time and I may have asked her out twice but she said we were better off as friends and soon we were not even friends anymore.

We met at this party, talking about my dream now, and soon enough we hit it off. I assumed she knew there is a celebrity in the room, who is a gay icon by the way, but when I pointed out she was shocked. We were both shy to meet the celebrity but we made it across the room, we hit it off with Kristen Stewart! I did some silly things in my dream like I usually do IRL and regret, but because I was with her(my crush) it didn’t feel so embarrassing.

After the party, we walked on the street holding our hands and she deliberately chose a different path so that we could walk a little longer. Note that all of this is a dream and weird things happen. We both reached her building and I tell her I live a couple of floors up. We go our way but she is upset at this point and I am upset seeing her upset. I wanted her sadness to go away, and a few seconds later, I woke up.

This is not so romantic dream if you think about it, but it was too much for me. I didn’t want the dream to end. Waking up in my twin-sized bed alone, which I usually love, now felt terrible. Sure I can’t do anything about the dream but it made me realize how long I have been single and how long I have been SO READY to be in a relationship. It just never seems to start with someone, forget about working out.

Valentines Day is a day of romance, I have enough love in my life in different forms; friendship, family, fostered relations, except for romance. I really wish I could share that part of me with someone. I would have loved to care so much about someone, to make them happy, to feel upset when they are upset, to do things they love and make them happy, to meet our friends and family, and introduce each other as my “girlfriend” or “partner”. It just seems too far now.

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It’s not easy being green

It’s not easy being green

It is not easy being real

It’s not easy being me

It’s not easy to see within

It’s not easy to lock eyes

It is not easy to eat right

It’s not easy to stand up straight without the spine

It’s not easy to be amazed

It is hard to love the world when I don’t love myself

No one said self-care does not come as natural as it may seem

My appearances are not aging, my perspective is

My eye-sight is not fading, my sense of humor is

My ankles are burnt from walking 10,000 steps a day

Not once did I look into mirror and said, ‘‘You’re doing okay’’

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Is This The World We Created?

Is this the world we created?

To learn moralities only to ignore them,

To make rules only to abuse them,

To create dreams only to destroy them.

Where is the world that we longed for?

A picket fence and a swing set, tomato sandwiches

Under the tall trees, two little beautiful kids with the picnics

Is that what we wanted or the world we have now?

Where love is chaos and pain is the staple

Where ignorance is the neutral and the call out is prude

There no shock or surprise in the blood spill, the woman’s cry, the hungry faces

Acceptance in atrocity is more than the queer and feminine in human

A plague could not convince humans of their own horror

Shall continue to cut, to pollute, to kill, to abuse

The love shall lose, fear shall triumph, and the hate shall prevail

Is this the world we created?

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The fish who longed for the Ocean

Within a roof we are so different

How did we expect everyone outside to be like alike?

I thought we hated each other

Until the world showed us the real ways of disdain

The yelling of parents, fights of sisters, was love after all

Alas! I wished I had the better version of it

Where we expressed we loved each other and did not stick stapler in my finger

But who am I to say, the creation was not an easy task

And the living shall be the same

Letting go of that illusion is difficult

Maybe read a sonnet or pray or find the Wishing Well

Anything to prevent me to accept the reality

I’ve heard its cruel, difficult, filled with inevitable complexity

Why didn’t I realize that I was in it all along?

Like the fish who thought it was just in “water” and wanted an ocean.

art learning Poem

The Way I Learnt

Nothing in this world had to make sense.

I am looking at this extrapolated piece of artwork that I never quite realized was so beautiful

You see I learnt to criticise things before I could learn to appreciate

When we saw paintings one might say anyone can paint this

To make the foolery out of this place, the profession, and people who bought it for a million dollars

Little did I know it was Picasso or Van Gogh?

Art is for reflecting your emotions, about how it makes you feel

Just as are poetry, open ended stories, songs

The movies were the most simplistic form of art while made with complexity and served the photographic vision than people’s introspection

Hence we come by forth to mock anything that falls short of that easiness on mind

I stopped looking for the meanings or schematic of poems

Rather I looked and felt those words

I did not care to vent my feelings to other people

I enjoyed it with a cup of coffee and that was it for me

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My first NO

Today was my first NO, I was offered a job offer which was hard to decline mainly because it was huge sum of money but partly because I have hard time saying No. Often I convince myself in the situations like this that maybe it will be an experience, an adventure, would look good on your Resume etc. I have never quite excelled at saying NO in my life, let it be a job or a party or at my long-lost friend’s baby shower that I know I would get bored at. I have even said yes for things that I know are beyond my potential like working 10 hours for minimum wage, travelling across town for a wedding I never wanted to attend and it also does not help my social anxiety.

Today before responding to this Job Offer, I decided to meditate on it. Do you I really need this job, am doing it for the sake of doing it, am doing it because no one else would have declined such offer and within all this I never quite realized I did not ask myself the real question; do I love doing this? In the past I have made decisions out of fear, out of desperation, out of what others think but now I wanted to do something because I wanted to do it and not otherwise. And after this, the voice inside me said NO. No I would not love to do this job and it wouldn’t be fair to myself or the organization to commit to something I don’t believe in.

After all this I understood it was an inevitable NO and I knew I had to make that ONE phone call I dreaded my whole life. I opened my Call List several times before I made the call. I even thought of working out through text or email but it didn’t seemed right since I was in touch with the company for sometime now and it didn’t feel professional. I finally made the call and told the HR about my decision. The person was quite understanding and I could make it through their tone that they appreciated not hiring someone who wasn’t willing to do the job. I realized for the first time how letting go, rejection ,and rejecting could turn out to be good for both parties.