Tuesday, 21 April 2015

My Obesity is My Problem

I wonder why obesity is not acceptable. Is it because of true care or is it something to make fun of? When the day ends, all that mockery and jokes, leave a heart really sad. It might be making someone hate themselves. How come one person being overweight becomes everyone's concern? Everyone becomes a fitness guru, guiding, advising, mentoring. But ultimately you are constantly reminding someone of how different they are, how they are not a part of the "in" crowd.

Please let a person's weight be his or her problem. Do try to look beyond the physical set up of things. The fat is going to be burnt away by hook or by crook, in days, months or years. But it will be difficult to forget how the person was made to feel.

I may not be able to express it but it does feel completely demeaning. My talent, creativity, zeal, abilities suddenly feel nothing in front of how I look.

I have become this way due to a reason. A reason that I suffered. A reason that when I had multiple downs, food was the only thing I found comfort in.

I know I'm wrong. I know I'm big. I know I'm not healthy. I know if it goes on like this I will have serious health issues.

I know all of this. Trust me every time I look at myself in the mirror I get reminded of all of this. Everytime a dress doesnt fit me, I get reminded of all this. You don't need to make it worse for me than it already is.

I try. But I fail. I try again and I fail again. But that doesn't stop me from trying.

Next time can we not make it about me? Are you telling me I am the only overweight person you know? Is it that odd for you to skip this topic of my obesity and speak about things where I can be truly happy and genuinely laugh?

I know I crack a lot of jokes on myself but that's probably because I'm scared that you might initiate a joke about me. My jokes probably hurt me less.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm a normal human being, just like everyone else. I know this might be a fun read for you but you would never know what I have gone through. You would never know ( even if I laugh with all my heart about all the sufferings of the past). Wounds don't heal so easily. They take time and probably I will take time too.

Please let me do this on my own. Please don't judge me on each move of mine, each meal, each hurt, presence or absence of me. Please give me the time I deserve. I know you mean the best for me but somehow you are making it tougher for me, making it difficult for me to be in my skin, making me hate myself more and more. I fear it will affect my confidence too.

Be my friend, well-wisher...but not at the cost of my self confidence and true smiles.

I hope you understand.

Monday, 13 April 2015

Our Magic

In between the arguments
The disagreements
And the head nodding in the negative,

In between the heat and gloom
The hopelessness
And blue sighs..

In between the disbelief
And regret
Of decisions,
A mix of wrong and right...

Our magic shines
The magic that turns your eyes away
But then brings them back to me..
The magic that lies on the tip of your fingers
When they entwine
With mine..

Our magic
The magic of 'us'...

Sunday, 12 April 2015

I am different..

I am different.

I can hate and love
The same person
Simultaneously
And in multiple ways
Million times over.

I am different.

I can loathe and adore
Myself
Trying to motivate self
But then get totally surprised
at those
Wet eyelashes.

I am different.

I can smile a lot
But then cry
Probably scream inside
Because I fail
Fail to understand
My sorrow
And my happiness.

I am different.

Logic ditches me
At the most sensible of times.
The sad past does make me
Question my well-lit future.

I am different.

I am different
Because
I am right and wrong

I am different
Because
I smile a lot
And mean it too sometimes

I am different
Because
When I look at the horizon
I feel whoa!
That is so me
'Boundless and beyond'
'Close yet so far'.

I am different
But then may be I am not.
I am a woman. You see?
I can be a million things..

Sunday, 5 April 2015

My Cinderella Story..

He....
The one who doesn't know
Cinderella's Story.

The one who is no prince
But an apprentice.

She...
The one who is no princess
Neither a commoner.

The one who in the end
Always forgives.

Such is life
Such is our story.

Because in the end..
No matter what..
The glass slipper always fits.

Saturday, 4 April 2015

The Dark Light

Nothing to hide
Or conceal.
Acceptance has bravery
Hidden to heal.

When tears build up
But are forced
Not to fall.
They dry..
They burn..
And turn the soul
To ashes
Dark..meaningless..

Anger and rage..
The heat of burnt aggression..
Unextinguished..
The fuel to power
Drive strength..

Negative
When channelized well
Is positive...

Wednesday, 1 April 2015

Who Am I?

Who am I ?

Am I the one giggling aloud with you?
Or the one weighing myself every second, a morsel of food hits my tongue?

Am I the one jealous of every thin or popular woman out there?
Or the one who is a coward, trying hard to please everyone?

Am I the one learning to say no for things I don't approve of?
Or the one whose soul is screaming in disagreement inside but not even a whisper comes out?

Am I the one with so many dreams?
Or the one lost with no direction?

Who am I ?
Too many questions.
No answers.
Just instances of the extremities.

Being most honest now,
But still reeling under the fear of rejection
Of being an outcast
Of being out there...
Left alone in the cold.

Who am I ?
A brave soul?
Or a scared heart?

Who am I ?