Portrait of Sue

I wanted to write bad stuff about you and hide them all behind some complicated play of words. Instead I feel like crying because my thoughts keep turning back to myself like a strong search light, and all I see is my flawed self, and yet even then, I can’t see me perfectly, nor can I see all of me.

You’re tall and graceful, including in that purple sari, your beauty is understated and subtle, and yet you dress and hold yourself so smartly. You seem to conform in ways I never could, and stand out in ways I didn’t. A flower should be in your scarf, tucked in just above your ear. The people you hang out with are coloured by you. They all seem happier simpler people, even in their brightest be-deck-ery, their most elaborate painted faces and lovely straight-not-curly hairdos. Its fun rendering it all in gold, except you look better in silver and purple, back straight, bag shiny, and your book of dreams in your hands, clasped close to your chest.

I used to know another girl who shared your name. She too wanted to run to far away places, to Paris or New York or Auckland or Sydney, she too wanted to live uninhibited by family. She’s not in Facebook world anymore, I don’t know what happened to her.

I try to point out your flaws in my usual cynical way, and all I see are my own back lit by the setting sun, all I know is that we all sin, and I just have them hidden better due to no fault of yours or mine, due to living in a different country from the native land, due to being able to chose what person I wanna be to everyone else back home. Its both easier and harder than it sounds.

Now that you’re almost done with your degree from that prestigious university in Dhaka, what do you see from your high vantage point? What difference does it make? What dreams do you see?

The biggest thing that confuses me is how, although not more than four years separate us, I no longer feel that understanding of fellow youth, an automatic grasping of whats what and whats not, of you and your generation. I know I would be dubbed that frumpy goody goody from whom all things should be hidden to avoid any trouble whatsoever. Its such a silly thing, I think I don’t really care, I always face that perception anyway and sometimes it breaks, sometimes it doesn’t, yet now I feel again that search light.

Do you think I don’t know that, or that I never changed? That perceptions never drove me to desperation? Stay in your assumptions, it just fits the pattern of your portrait better. There are things in me and my history that I will always hate and your perception cannot take that vantage point away from me.

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Wide eyed child

Why did you finish it? It stands alone. My hand feels shaky as I quickly scribble out another picture.

Right now the world seems so fresh, and I feel young, only its too young, I feel like a child. I keep remembering my mother, I wonder if she too felt like this, like a wide eyed child walking through the dark without really knowing what will happen because of a few of her careless words or actions, not knowing that a man with integrity will always bring that integrity into love and not relent even then. Integrity is so sharp, it hurts so much when one is sharpened by it, or when one is just blown away. Why didn’t I think that a hand held in the dark was worth the small amount of time lost for fullfilling ones dreams? Why didn’t I think that the sick may need me?

No, I walked head first into my scariest self, the one that is built on a mistaken idea of my hopes and dreams, and refuses to relent, even when there is no real threat of destruction, even when it hurts those who I love the most. That hurtful sensitive anger at not being able to get a book or that firm annoyingness at wanting to stay up late, even when there is so much at stake.

Why is my hoping and dreaming self tied so closely to another self, one that is scary, spoiled, selfish and mean? One that can’t see what really matters then, dream or love? Things or people? Fame or true friend?

Why was it so hard to see at once that I act in a way that’s spoiled selfish and mean?

I am made of bricks, my head is numb, I am going off the slide, into the abyss of the sandbox. Please wait for me, please don’t leave me behind.

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The heart of the tree and its soul

If you see the heart of the tree, you can see its soul.

Right now, I feel like a liquified drop of coldness, so lost in nothing

In being nothing in knowing I am nothing, to the ones I love, in knowing there is someone else in the place where they are in my heart, in their heart,

I know it was because of the others, to forget and impress the others that they love, that I am here in the first place.

If my heart was not so wrapped in coldness, I would break and burn again and again.

There is nothing but devastation in my future and my past and its so cold here.

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define good

Voices

I guess a cultural expectation that surprised me was that be alone is somehow strange.

People are complicated. That should have been obvious given how many times its said to us over the years. Except I never really understood, due to the bubble I live in. The people who annoy me the most are those who refuse to accept that everyone will have a unique perspective of things, even the deepest sacred things, and expect everyone to think like them, and their narrow group-herd-mentality. Stifling and oppressive! They are usually the harshest in condemning those who think differently from them on issues that usually have freedom attached, and do not involve the basic rights of a person, and thus do not deserve such narrow rigidity. They are usually those who claim to be lone voices in solitude against an advancing,  entirely untrustworthy, immoral, in all the smallest of ways, army of the humans of this world. They are the scariest, the ones you most want to run away from and avoid. Because they will only approve of you, if you ever get their approval (shudder), until they get to know you more.

I guess the complexity lies for me in those exceptional people, perhaps among your uni classmates, perhaps among those you meet later or earlier,  who have huge kind sides of them, and yet they say that one sentence, that one word, have that one expectation that for them is unquestionable, and for you is not. It leaves you confused and you realize its a lack of experience on their side, that they never expected that their mixture of kindness, and pressure of expectations would be autocratic, so, so autocratic, and they don’t know what people can be like. To them either a person is bad, or is good and nothing in between.

please define good. please define goodness. please define good. please define goodness and good.

you cannot.

 

 

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Just because I am a girl

IMG_20180606_151437.jpgUntil today, I felt I was one person, and after today I feel I will be another, and I feel that every day. Why have I become so strong and nothing else? Why am I so defensive and insistent of my truth? And yet its beyond my control in so many ways. Its sometimes an entirely outside force that drives me. I hate that person who acts all superior to you and your family, in every way just because that is their personal private opinion- that they are the best example and no one else. That is arrogance. A better way would have been to say that “I follow someone about whom there is enough valid evidence to be the best of examples- and that is who I am, and it is your freedom to choose”. But if that example is yourself-and you act without any true teacher or guide- or feeling the need for one- than its just arrogance and it spirals into a lack of self awareness and reflection, a lack of trying to be a better person on any level, especially in your heart. What exactly did that person do to me or anyone else, that I should consider that person the best of examples? A person who never bothered to come in the most difficult of times for those they claimed to love.

A person who talks a lot about religion and morality and spirituality but has little knowledge and fails to put it into practice to a justified level- which is all right, that person’s choice, until that person has the horrible audacity to judge me and my loved ones by their flawed understanding, has the horrible audacity to preach and consider themselves so great without enough knowledge, without enough humbleness or bothering to go to all the difficult, high, yet beautiful lengths in action and practice that a truly knowledgeable person would go to before ever daring to preach. If that person had gone to those lengths, never would that person have been so quick to judge, nor would that person have been so arrogant “my path is better than yours” nor would she have failed to recognize the truth in others, who never ever hurt or disrespected her. In this day and age, for those who claim to be educated with their certificates, certain ignorance(s) are no longer excusable. Like no such person can use their ignorance to defend their discrimination against me, just because I am a girl.

Just because I am a girl, I am erased and not believed. Just because I am a girl, my family is erased and denigrated and discriminated and insulted. Just because I am a girl my views or automatically considered questionable- even my life’s experience is erased and narrowed by those who have much less experience in that area. Just because I am a girl, I am expected to give up on all that I believe in and love and blindly follow the aforementioned arrogant ones. Just because I am me, I am expected to stop being me.

If you treat me like a liar, and a loser , and an immoral person, no different from others not morally, not character-wise in anyway, except by certain material privileges I have been blessed with (but don’t make me better than anyone) if you act like I am wrong, when I have never done that to you, or if you act like I am a mistake, a doomed person, a failure, or say I hurt you when I never did, or that I should listen to you blindly out of gratitude for a favor I never asked you to do, or treat me like your actions were a huge favor to me, and that I am in fact no one at all, not in the past present or future, except by the material advantage I bring, than believe me I will be hurt, afraid and scared to be around you. And I will be angry and OUTRAGED.

 

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all of us antisocial crazy fools

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Everyone will face discrimination and denigration. But some of what you will face it for is sometimes in your control- and its better to face discrimination and denigration for something that’s noble, honorable and worth it than something that’s not. It’s better to side with the poor and the suffering, and to never detach oneself from them fully, whether it’s in your personal life choices, or in your words actions towards others, and even if that’s not possible for you, don’t go around hurting those who do try. Your heart will always matter more to me and all of us antisocial crazy fools who have little claim of popularity or acceptance in this boring materialistic-money-matters-only-and-nothing-else world.

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I

trees

I

Upon reflection there are probably some hidden reasons as to why, but for now

I

Will behave with dignity and heroism and not act out, not react with words or actions there’s something wrong only its beyond my comprehension and

I

Don’t understand and I don’t know what it is that has come into your eyes when you look  or in your voice when you speak and I realize that even my sadness seems not to be

I

Am sorry

I

Am sorry that I failed to be the one who has lived up to your expectations and I am sorry you are not cheerful or joyful in my presence and I am sorry that I do not make you happy now I am sorry that I seem like a mood box with too many unsaid words in my face I am sorry

I

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