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"Maybe adulting is about watching your bubble burst, your belief system crumble," says the poet. "but would you have been different have you not been told how to be?"
“Maybe adulting is about watching your bubble burst, your belief system crumble,” says the poet. “but would you have been different have you not been told how to be?”
Would you have been any different, had you been the first of your kind?
If there was nobody to tell you what ‘normal’ was, how would you really unwind?
Would you walk the same walk? Or would you bow down to gravity, and take after our ancestors for good measure,
Or would you stand up a little straighter, no longer weighed down by societal pressure?
If killing was not a crime, would you turn into a hound, hunting deep into the wild,
Or would you join the tribe of the meek, and discover camouflages to escape and hide?
If you were the first man to walk the face of earth, and happened to discover another of your kind,
Would you yearn to be listened to, to share a piece of your mind?
Would you discover language together? Would you marvel at how mere sounds,
Used in combinations can mean something – that to then be heard, there are no bounds.
If you weren’t taught the single correct response to “How are you”,
Would you have been honest for once? Would you still have built these walls of lies around you?
If friends, family, and strangers, were words that you could brand people with,
Would you have found it easier to pull certain people closer, and cast the others aside, like rotten filth?
I think of these things sometimes. do you?
Because I have been proven wrong at almost everything that I once thought was true.
The good and bad, once black and white, is now just one big pool of grey.
In this confusion, is a constant need for an escape, a distraction, a meaningless conversation; anything to help look away.
Maybe adulting is about watching your bubble burst, your belief system crumble;
Yet, getting down on your knees to build again, sometimes before the wounds have fully healed from your last stumble.
Maybe it is about unlearning every single thing that we have learnt, and shutting out the world, to look within for your worth;
Because if you look at it in a way, each of us really are, you see – the first of our kind, to set foot on earth.
A version of this was first published here.
Image source: shutterstock
Doctor, ambivert. Her voice stutters; her pen doesn't . read more...
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UP Boards Topper Prachi Nigam was trolled on social media for her facial hair; our obsession with appearance is harsh on young minds.
Prachi Nigam’s photo has been doing the rounds on social media for the right reasons. Well, scratch that- I wish the above statement were true. This 15-year-old girl should ideally be revelling in her spectacular achievement of scoring a whopping 98.05% and topping her tenth-grade boards. But oddly enough, along with her marks, it’s something else that garners more attention – her facial hair.
While the trolls are driving themselves giddy by mocking this girl who hasn’t even completed her school yet, the ones who are taking her side are going one step ahead – they are sharing her photoshopped pictures, sans the facial hair, looking nothing less than a celebrity with captions saying – “Prachi Nigam, ten years later”.
Doctors have already diagnosed her with PCOD in their comments, based on photographic evidence. While we have names for people shamed for their weight – body shaming, for their skin colour- racism, for their age- age shaming, for being a female- sexism, this category of shaming where one faces criticism for their appearance has no name. With that, it also has zero shame attached to it.
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