They say, don’t use “I”, they ask me to get away
from it. Do hell with all of you! My world does begin with an “I”.
“I”
::
Possibly the simplest word with most complex usage. It’s blamed for all the
evil in the world but is rarely used to evaluate self-worth.
{Rant}
Have you ever noticed that some of the best or stupid or risky ideas come at 2
– 4am in the morning? Considering, of course, you spent all the time before
that sitting in front of the idiot box and just staring at one channel waiting
to fall asleep? It’s 3.33 am (I didn’t make that up) on 5th Oct’13. I
reached home today (mum’s place) after a light Friday at work followed by a
meeting with friend. The Mother is sleeping next to me while I lay on my tummy
to write this on a Microsoft Word (which I actively started using a little over
10 years back in 2003) doc named Project I. Anyhow, back to the topic:
What are we talking about “I” and why is it
important? I am going to keep it very contextual, philosophical and a little
personal because it’s about “I”. Wake up people!
During today’s midnight session of day dreaming,
actually night dreaming with eyes wide open, I was thinking about all that I
can do with life. Just like the life of many others (in the most clichéd way of
saying) my life has been a roller coaster ride. And past for me, is something
that doesn’t bring much good, except some brilliant insights to be carried
forward, stability in the thought process (without discounting on the capability
of erratic actions and random decisions), knowledge of the many ways to potentially
screw up an entire life and a word of caution to avoid these in the coming
future. The most important thing past teaches is, to fall, muster up all the
courage, stand and walk, walk tall with
your head held just a little higher than before, with clear sight of the ground
below.
I pity those, who haven’t fallen in life, as they
never got a chance to rise higher than before.
{Rant}
On an unrelated note: I hate the guys with soft hands; I mean what’s up with
you people; go easy on moisturizer and go back to doing some heavy duty lifting.
Guilty as charged. I love “I”; I am a self-loving,
self-obsessed narcissist who despite hyper critical nature comes across as a
confident lady with a hint (maybe a little more) absurd yet brilliant sense of
humor. There! Narcissism spotted right there. I would also like to admit that I am guilty of not wallowing in self-pity and self-loath.
P.S: Loving yourself doesn't discount your love for others, it just adds to it.
Why
am I, the way I am?
I am a small town girl, born in the city called
Moradabad to a business family. All say I’ve got my father’s genes with tons of
ambition and entrepreneurial traits. Thanks to my genes (or no thanks), I looked
and dreamt different when compared with my siblings. While all my cousins had brilliant
and fair complexion, I was an Ugly Duckling with a pale complexion; while their
dads took them out for vacations, my dad was busy minting money; while they
dreamt of inheriting export businesses or getting married into stinking rich
families who would load them with diamonds, I dreamt of starting my own
company; while they dreamt of bearing babies, I dreamt of going to NIFT; while
they were pretty young things, I was a persistent rebel.
I was different and I am different.
Till early 20s, I was living in a livable, yet
my world, in the world where dreams still had sparks. For 22 odd years, I
believed I could fly (how stupid of me?), when suddenly, on one fine day I woke
up to clipped wings; wings clipped from so deep within, that the pain went numb.
I could no longer fly; overnight all my dreams were stamped invalid. Like a
piece of raw leather, I was ripped apart from my soul, cut, torn, beaten, dried
in the sun, and then polished for the world. I was in a fancier place; I was in
US, but had no one to validate my “I”.
I lost myself, I was no longer I.
I was lost for almost 3 big years, when one fine
day, a mystical power reminded me of what my soul looked like, reminded me of
the values I believed in and stood for. I realized that I wasn’t happy and all
I did was, make good with the world, I was conforming and I was trying to be
something I was not. I was chasing worthlessness of empty emotions and society
values that got me no good instead they took away everything including my
identity, my sense of belongingness, my hope, my passion, my family and most
important, they took away my wings. You talk about the moment of
self-realization?
That was my moment of self-realization, I was
away from “I” for way too long and I was miserable.
And that was the moment when I got my soul back,
I came back home, I came back to my people, I came back to hugs, I came back to
being allowed to make mistakes, to demand, to dream, to smile and to talk
without thinking twice about every single word that came out of my mouth. I was
now free to try and fly again, I came back home. It was probably the toughest
decision ever and I was scared to the core as I had no belief left in me. But the only thing that gave me courage was knowledge that nothing could be any worse. The worst was over.
Where
do I stand now? I am fierce now and I
got nothing to lose no more. On second thoughts, I am in a happy place now, I
am content with what I have, place I belong to, friends I gossip with and the
guy I am in love with and with whom I hope to make tons of babies (day dreaming
again). Is this is what “Zen” is? It sure does sound like it.
To me the most basic tool of survival is “I”,
there is no world without “I” and there is no happiness in the world if “I” am not
happy.
“I” can’t feed the world outside (bon-bon, my dog
is an exception) if “I” am hungry and I can’t join in your celebrations, if “I”
am miserable.
You say “I” is bad, I say, “I” is the only way
to be. No matter how hard I try to make sentences without “I” it just doesn’t
happen. After all, conditioning grooms you a certain way. So when all my adorable,
absolutely chilled out friends say that I use “I” a lot and am self-obsessed, I
agree with you completely because I am an identity, an Ugly Duckling
who stood apart because of certain chances and choices in life and embraces herself for all that she has turned to become.
So yes! My world does begin with an “I” but
doesn’t necessarily end at it.
*All pictures are used for demonstration purpose only and blogger doesn't claim any right on any of the used pictures.
©2013 Rakshita Kapoor
©2013 Rakshita Kapoor
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