The World Inside Me

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What the world inside me looks like

In the first phases of adulting, the world crumbled for me. Most days the head that constituted my world was a rally where every participant had a speakerphone and yelled on top of their voices. My head was an asylum where all the voices stayed and waged wars in the name of sanity. They all lived but no one paid the rent or for the damages. 

One day when the voices didn’t shut up, a sane whisper, a voice so feeble among the screams went deep inside the caverns of my universe to consult a little girl. Like a prophecy, this girl was going to cleanse me, revive me and bring back my sanity. And she did. She built an army and believe me when I say when they came to save me — it was a sight to behold. 

Bruised and worn out I lay crumbled on the ground, with voices pinning me down, unable to move. In the darkness, a light reached out and like a scene out of a movie I saw them. The army that had come to save me. I recognised the first face I saw, it was Emma Harte or the face I associated with Emma — a fictional character from the first real book I read. Slowly and steadily I saw faces of more women, women I had looked up to since I was a kid. There were writers, directors, favourite characters, goddesses— all women walking towards me, making a protective circle around me and with each face I remembered their virtues that I fell in love with, their strength, character, courage, talent, things I saw in them that I wanted in me. 

My eyes had stopped crying and with their encouraging smiles I had managed to sit up and that was when the circle parted. Walking right behind my ferocious, angry Goddess Kali was Durga. My Durga, the protagonist from the first story I wrote. A woman I created in my head, a woman I loved. She stretched out her hand, pulled me up and pressing her forehead against mine she whispered — ‘Let’s Do This’.

Through gripping anxiety attacks, voices and bad days, I survive with my circle — the women in my head save me. This circle shows up to help me fight my battles, reminding me of all things beautiful, and sharing their strength and courage with me. The characters in my head save me and with them, I possess a beautiful world inside of me. 

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THE WORLD INSIDE OF ME

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Well, I always used to ponder over the question, how the world would be if it would be like the one which is inside of me? The free me inside can wear whatever she wants, and she does whatever she wants to do. A place where the happy me, the emotional me, the romantic me, the foodie me, the melodrama-queen me, the oh I am the most beautiful me, the bookworm me, the painter me, the actual free me, all live together.

Well, I always used to ponder over the question, how the world would be if it would be like the one which is inside of me? This thought amuses me a lot, why? Let me take you to a little tour.

My friends call me crazy, not because I am one but because I like to live on my terms. I have many parts of me living inside, they grapple, they wrangle, sometimes it’s like there is a world war going on, but still, it feels great to be lost inside of me, in the world of my imagination.

There was one time when I wanted to explore nature, wanted to be alone for some time, wanted to go on in search of myself at a place far away from this crowd. But asking parents and getting a yes for a solo trip before marriage being a girl is a big task. So all I was left with was one option, sit back on the couch, close my eyes and dream of the place I always wanted to be in.

And there, when I closed my eyes, someone whispering in a sweet melodious voice, with those invisible hands took me somewhere deep inside of me, to a place where I could live forever, a site so peaceful and calm.

After a few moments of relaxation, I was suddenly awakened by another voice, “Ye kya pehen rakha hai, itni choti dress?”, “Ye kaise bethi ho?” , “Itni raat ko bahar kyu ghoom rahi ho?” Again, this brought me back to the real world. Well, most of you girls must be familiar with comments like these. If you could relate, there is always a fear of roaming alone at night, of wearing short dresses, who knows when one will get eve-teased or chased by some creeps standing on the street, around the shops or on bus stands or railway stations.

At least my world has no space for this. The free me doesn’t have to live in fear or by societal rules in there. It’s not like she can’t live like that in the real world, but because somewhere she is restricted by her own family and relatives, she gets judged whenever she does something which is against their or society’s will. After all, society’s happiness is what really matters. Who cares what she thinks?

So, for me if talking to boys and wearing clothes of my choice means I have a bad character then I am happy in my world. If having opinions in this male-chauvinist world means I don’t respect men, then I am happy in my world. If getting judged for every single thing I say then I am happy in my world.

In my world, I am free as a bird with dreams in the eyes, ready for the flight. I can make my own decisions, away from all these bleak promises. I can do all the crazy things of my choice, sit whatever way I like, eat whatever way I want to, without any restriction. The free me inside can wear whatever she wants, and she does whatever she wants to do. A place where the happy me, the emotional me, the romantic me, the foodie me, the melodrama-queen me, the oh I am the most beautiful me, the bookworm me, the painter me, the actual free me, all live together.

Wouldn’t it be amazing to live in a world like that where everyone is freely expressing their own unique talents, everyone is working in harmony, everyone is expressing love?




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The World Inside of Me

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A lush green valley with HAPPY and successful corporate people enjoying sunsets (which, undoubtedly, is the most beautiful part of the day) every evening. A perfect world does exist (in my brain).

Well, this is who I am most of the days (read everyday), inventing a whole new world of oxymorons day in and day out. Women are called complex people for a reason, I guess. But complexity is an integral part of beauty. 

The beauty of a flower always subjugates the gentleness of simple leaves.

I am no different from the ladies making their mark out there. My brain is always finding new ways to fight patriarchy while being subordinated by the closest males in my lives. I want to stay away from all the beauty standards set by people since ages while at the same timr I'm eager to know what's new in the fashion industry. It's impossible for me to make a decision about the length of my hair when I visit a hair saloon. Just like any other person, I daydream of being productive while watching TV and using my mobile phone. I am the protagonist and the antagonist of my story (no other person can be).

Beliefs are what I am made of. They hold my scattered thoughts together. The minute my belief system sees me entering into a world of bizarre thoughts where I feel helpless, it immediately drives me homes to a safer place where everything might not be in the perfect place but I'd be grateful about my family, friends abd achievements (I believe, this is what life is about).

Whenever I see a "Mighty King" on the television infatuated by the sharpness of his sword, I always wonder what the other edge of it might hold. Maybe peace, tranquility and a lifetime of happiness. I forbid going to the extreme points because that is where the problem lies. And I never intend to be perfect but genuine. Trying to reach a middle ground is more of my thing.

Talking about extremities and excluding the digital world would not do justice to our beloved social media. Not a single person is a social media virgin now. We're all addicted to it. In fact, I am a fan of this digital world. And the one thing that I am in absolute love with these days is whatsapp status. One of my friends has "stars can't shine without darkness" as her status, which honestly is beautiful, but also a fact. So are we turning to facts these days to find our daily motivation? Are we comparing ourselves to the sstars of the universe or the legendary stars of our planet. I'll never find out. What I actually know is that our poor souls need a ray of hope to keep going. 

My thoughts are my only proof of my tiny presence in the vast world. Rational, raw, pure, anxious, whichever kind, I can proudly call them mine. They might distract me at times (to be honest, most of the time) but they're the most powerful gifts that I've ever received and I'll keep making my presence alive through them.

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