The World around Me

Dedicated to all the unique ones.

Now that i have existed in tis world for a little over two decades, it quite oppresses me to confess that i have still not understood my equation with it. Mine is a very discomfited understanding of this relationship. i do not know whether the world around me constitutes me or disowns me. This article is just to express the angst of an un-anchored self. Penning this anxiety down has convinced me that i am a round-the-clock freak.

"I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be", neither am i T.S. Eliot much as i might want to be. i am just plain clumsy, downright ham-fisted. This little piece of paper is big enough a platform for an introvert like me to voice my opinions which are'nt many anyway. Here is where i can afford to unleash my ungainly self which is better insulated in crowd.

Every time i take up a magazine i am reminded of all that is wanting in me, constantly reminded of how much i need to shrink, of how incomplete i look without those large eyes, how ordinary i look without that funky, happeneing hairstyle, how antique i look with my eye-glasses, how shriveled up i appear without those long smooth legs and how what not i look without whatever that is in vogue. But do not all the models look just the same? They are all tall, pretty and fashionable. Clones of each other!

Every time a sales woman asks me to buy the dress because it costs only 8,000, i am almost prompted to ask her whether she is aware of how many days of a month of my job have gone into earning that much money, how many of my pleasures massacred and how many of my dark circles incurred in the process.

Every time i repeat a dress at my office, or with friends, or worse still, at a party, the multitude of questioning and recollecting glances coerce me to retreat to my cave and recoil into my folds of intimidation. Repeating my attire, that is criminal. Prodigal crowd!

The world around me reminds me of my unfinished self, of the incompleteness with which i am adorned, of the non-lucrative package i seem to be: a good job but a bad figure, intelligent but struggling, and introvert but always on the brink of expression. A solution is needed because we (the world and me) are married to each other and cannt voluntarily drop out of the relationship. Whosoever drops out must admit defeat. i shall not. It would not.

A successful relationship demands mutual understanding. The unique thing about this world is its diversity; the unique thing about me is me. Hopefull someday we shall understand this. Do not look for a closure to this piece as there is none to a quarrel between husband and wife which can be resumed at any time from any point. That is a characteristic property of relationships.

The World around Me

Dedicated to all the unique ones

Now that i have existed in this world for a little over two decades, it quite oppresses me to confess that i have still not understood my equation with it. Mine is a very discomfited understanding of this relationship. i do not know whether the world around me constitutes me or disowns me. This article is just an attempt to express the angst of an unanchored self. Penning this anxiety down has convinced me that i am a round-the-clock freak.

"I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be", neither am i T.S. Eliot much as i might want to be. i am just plain clumsy, downright ham-fisted. This little paper is big enough a platform for an introvert like me to voice my opinions which are'nt many anyway. Here is where i can afford to unleash my ungainly self which is better insulated in crowd.

Every time i take up a magazine i am reminded of all that is wanting in me, constantly reminded of how much i need to shrink, how incomplete i am without those large eyes, how ordinary i look without that funky, happening hairstyle, how antique i look with my eye-glasses, how shriveled up i appear without those long smooth legs and how what not i look without whatever is in vogue.