Growing up, especially in my early teenage hood, I wanted to be a lot of things. My dream list went like this: a great actress like Angelina Jolie, famous musician like Michael Jackson and a super model like Giselle Bundchen but I ended up being a writer like,well,no one but me!
We have all gone though that at some point in life. Wanting and working towards being like someone else and it mostly backfires on our faces. Because, let us face it, the only person we can successfully pull off being is a better version of us.
I am not saying that having a role model is bad. On the contrary,it is good. It kind of gives us a push towards whatever we want to be.But it is creating our own paths and finding our own voices that will get us there.
So I encourage you, to find that which makes your heart race and make it your own wonderful unique voice.If it is painting, let each stroke of the brush on the canvas be uniquely yours or if it is fashion,then make each design show the world why you are different from another design. Whatever you do, let your voice be loud and clear.
Osho once said “Nobody superior, nobody is inferior, but nobody is equal either. People are simply unique,incomparable.You are you, I am I.” That which makes you you, that which makes you unique. That is your voice. Find it.Develop it.Be it! The world can’t wait to hear from you!
Some rise by sin while some by virtue, fall!
The view from my window is not
of waves cascading on the ocean
or of people walking barefoot by the beach
or of little kids runninng after each other
or collecting seas shells by the shore
neither is it of a fancy swimming pool
from a fancy balcony, No it is not!
It is a perfect view of
my neighbour’s rich avocado tree
from my small bedroom window.
In early June,
When the tree is covered by little, creamy-white buddings
She can only be compared to a big, beautiful cauliflower
Then, one develops to a tiny, green oval fruit
and by mid-june
the whole tree is covered by them.
Still, the big miracle is
when I wake up one morning to a view of
a tree whose branches are weighed down
by full grown avocadoes.
What is closely related with ageing happens.
The first one to bud,
The first one to develop
The first one to ripe,
becomes the first one to fall.
And as with the first one,
the others follow suit.
Mostly one, sometimes two,
heck, it even goes up to three a day
until there is only one left
and she goes back to looking like a virgin again
as she awaits her next season.
I have witnessed the beauty of birth,
the rapidity of growth
the sweetness of ageing
and the swiftness of death
all from my small bedroom window.
I love the view from my window.
You make the first call
He did not pick up the phone.
After two minutes, you call again
Now, you are worried.
Something is definitely wrong!
After 5 minutes, you call again,
For the third time!
Still, NO answer!
At this moment, your imagination is out of control.
He is with another girl.
(And yeah, he probably is and calling him won’t stop him)
So you call again and again and again.
You stop at the 47th call
And wait for him to call you back
(Which you should have done after the first unanswered call)
But deep inside, you have concluded he is going to break up with you.
And yes girl, he definitely is.
You see, boys smell desperation
(The way a cat smells a rat)
And they often use it to their advantage
That’s before they dump you.
So a piece of advise,
Just be cool girl!
It is attractive!
Honest feelings and bad timing make the most painful combination
I have always told people I don’t like cooking .In fact ,sometimes I would go to extent of using the strong H-word-Hate when describing my relationship with cooking and I even had a story for why incase someone wondered. But the truth is, I just hated cooking and serving people who aren’t me.
But all that changed at the beginning of this year. My brothers left for school and my sister for her place and since I didn’t want to report to campus early, I stayed at home for a while. Then the lecturers went on strike before I reported so my mum was stuck with me.
She would leave for work in the morning (she was a teacher) and I would stay at home and do the chores-which wasn’t a lot by the way. But in the evening, she would come back home, tired, to a selfish girl who would refuse to cook, so she had to cook too.
One evening something strange happened, it’s like I was convicted for my wicked selfish behavior towards my mum. So I decided to let her rest and I cooked for us.
That became a habit from then on. She would come home with food for diner and I would cook and serve us. And you know what?? I loved it!
Near the end of March, the lecturer’s Union called the strike off so I left for campus on the morning of 24th.That turned out to be the last time I saw my mum alive because two months later, she died after a very short illness.
As painful and shocking as her death was, I am glad I got to spend sometime with her and learn the value of serving others and how fulfilling it is.
These days, I am always the one cooking for my siblings. They still wonder what brought the sudden change in me.
There are those who feel the rain and those who just get wet.