Letting go.

“How can you let go of people easily?” he asked.

“By giving them time and space, when they are sad. By not asking them what’s happening time and again when they say they don’t want to talk about it. By trying not to worry about them when they tell you not to do so. By realizing that you’re not important or close to them as you thought to be, after all people do share what happened when things go wrong no matter how closed off they are.

And every time, you feel like you’re starting to get worried, distract yourself. Read books – on loss, on happiness, on moving on. Watch a new tv series or movies – tragic, comedy, action. Go on vacations – with your family, other friends or alone. Take classes – dance, ceramics, kickboxing. Learn about politics, science and development. Attend events. Meet new people. Make new friends. Experience the world. Write about these experiences. Share them with your other friends.

And finally, resolve to start fresh.

So that when you meet them next time, you will realize that you’ve grown, and evolve into something else. Something they won’t be able to relate with. And when you talk to them, you will realize that they no longer understand who you are and who you’ve become. And you are a perfect stranger to them. That’s how you can let go of people easily. Because if someone isn’t ready to share what’s bugging them, if someone needs time and space from you during the bad times, then know that you never mattered enough at the first place.”

Strolling around with Pailaharu

On Saturday morning, I went to Sunrise Farm with some friends where we did a pilot session for Pailaharu, a project by a friend. We strolled around the farm, learnt about permaculture and wrote/doodled there. Here’s what I wrote and doodled.

I

Let’s assume that I am the center of the universe. I am, after all, made up of almost each element this universe is made up of. I have my own time and space continuum, although I neither know the spelling or the meaning of the word. I have hydrogen & oxygen, carbon & nitrogen, all over my body. I am composed of millions of living organisms in the form of cells that are trying to keep me alive. Like universe, I am always in motion. It’s funny how we look up to the stars to feel so tiny while we can just sit near a giant tree and still feel the same. But stars are luminous while we have to burn the trees down. And it’s funny how trees and we share the same soul. It is a living organism with millions of cells just like in us. The only difference is that it’s cells have outer wall while our don’t. And to realize that we both came from the same single cell organism, which might or not might be living inside us and that we both share same fate – of death and going back to where we came from is also interesting. The only difference is that trees give as much as they get from the universe while we only get and refuse to give back.

II, III, IV

II, III, IV

The first doodle shows me sitting under a tree and thinking about the universe. The second doodle shows how trees/plants and humans aren’t that different. The third doodle is supposed to show how I, tree and the universe are the same.

 

07.

Dear you,

I was thinking about my past and how my life has changed drastically in less than five years. Before  my heart was broken, when I used to keep all my eggs in one basket – in B’s friendship. He was my almost best friend and a huge crush. If you were to ask me whether I loved him at that time, I would close my eyes and say yes. If you ask me the same right now, I would say I don’t know. For I don’t know what love is anymore. But this was guy I admired. He was the  one I opened to – talked about my dreams of travelling and telling stories, talked about Bhaktapurko Baa and talked about life in general. We would have lots of discussion about theories and philosophy and science and incarnation and so on. I had other friends, but they didn’t know half the things going in my head. And I would never tell. I remember him telling me that although deep inside we all are screwed up, we have to put the mask when we go out – of normality. I never believed that. Putting mask means not accepting yourself I would tell him. But still I never talked about my fears and my demons to other friends. Not to my girls in college, maybe a little to now-long-lost friend. Not a hint to the rest of the world.

And then he broke my heart. And I found myself plunging into the black hole. I was in Narayanghat, 159.3 km far from home, far from mom. And I was sick at that time. And then heart-broken. My demons started to come out, the demons I’d always nourished but kept hidden inside me. My mood swings became frequent and even violent. I felt like this was the end, that I had fallen into the darkest tunnel and wouldn’t come out no matter what. I even talked to one of my teachers about this who suggested me to find a way. But what way there could be. The guy I trusted with all the trust I could birth, the one who told me he would never leave, left without a word.

But then sun did shine slowly. I realized the girls (I am including Raja here because he is always part of my gang) were much open to my other side than I thought they would be. They loved me nevertheless, despite my mood swings and my constant sulking. And then Baa passed away. And I was on the verge of going to the dark path again but I decided to stop myself. If I’d learnt anything during that heart-broken period, it was not to be alone. So I asked J. to keep me company. He was almost a broken soul at that time, yet he gave the attention and care I needed.

The other thing that I also learnt was to be more vulnerable and to be more honest with myself. If my heart was with my almost best friend, at the time he broke my heart, it is now with people around me. That a huge chunk is with mom and you but the smaller chunks are with my friends. So even if something happens to one of those chunks (I hope not), the other chunks will still make me feel loved and give me hope no matter what.
And this is what I wanted to tell you today. That we feel lonely because we are afraid to open up to people – show them our flaws and strength, talk to them about our deepest fears and darkest secrets. We feel lonely because we don’t talk to many people about our biggest dreams or scariest thoughts. We say we want to talk about the universe and atoms but we don’t. Of course you can only talk to few selective people about the universe and atoms. But these few would become more if you give chances to others like I have done with my people. And of course this is a mutual thing than just one-sided.

So when J told me that y best friend thought I had so much of people who loved me and you agreed? Well I agree to. But they are with me because I let them be. Because I let them in. Because I opened myself to them, showed my flaws, complained, rant, talked about my dreams. And I also listened to them. Their plans. Their worries. Their stories.

So think about this. If you never want to be alone, then open yourself to more people and be more vulnerable. Of course you might end up with someone who will do you more harm than good but without taking risks, how would you know? And without the human touch, how would you get out of the mess your head creates every night?

🙂

Love.

Suv

04.

Dear little girl,

I don’t know what it likes to live with a scarred face. Not that I don’t have scars in mine, but they are little and most of the time, invisible to many. I have an average face. A face that gets lost in the crowd because it’s neither pretty nor ugly. A face that doesn’t get much attention. And I am just thankful to the crowd.

I realize that you might not be able to get away in the crowd now. Your friends will ask you about the scar in your lips and even give some comments about it. Your crowd will always talk about your scar, your neighbors will tell a story about it to their kids and your teachers will ask you every year when you go to higher level. There will be people who will laugh at it, people who will give an awkward smile because they feel sorry for you, they will murmur to themselves with a pitiful eyes and some will just remain silent.

You might find yourself alone in those times. You might be jealous of those pretty girls with flawless faces that have no scars. You might hate all those attentions your scar brings to you, all for the wrong reasons. You might get angry at yourself at times, at your fate, at your face but mostly at your scars. You might cry to sleep, you might think your mother and brother doesn’t understand you, that no one really knows what you are feeling.

But believe me, you are not alone. And I am not just bluffing or telling this in a vague term. I have a friend with an incomplete cleft in her upper lips and she shares how she is scared to meet new people because they will be asking her about it. Unlike those people are me who simply doesn’t notice it till she mentions. I have another friend who loves counting scars on his face and recount the stories. But reaching to his level will be a long and hard journey.

You will have to pass the point where you are affected by comments from people. You will have to accept the scars and even love them. Be proud of them. You will have to believe that people will love you despite those scars. And not doubt them at all. You will have to learn how to love yourself, over and over again. To reach his level, you will have to have patience and endurance and they are one hard thing to have. But that doesn’t mean you will not reach that level at all. You will, one day. If you let yourself to reach there.

And even if you cannot, even if you feel insecure and inferior and utterly helpless, know that you are not alone. Even if you feel unpretty and ugly, it’s okay. I will forever remind you of how this will never matter, how this is just a stupid perception people have, you have. How, what really matters is what you are from inside – a strong, independent, creative genius – who is loved by her people.

Know that what you look and how many scars you have isn’t a really big deal in this world. The big deal is how many people smiled because of something you did or said, how many of them feels great when you are around because you are always making them laugh with your silly antics and dances and how they will always love you for this.

I hope, when you are my age, or even before that, you will realize that all this flawless beauty is fake. What is really beautiful is scars and wounds. What is really real is being human with flaws, who is not afraid to make mistakes. What is really perfect is being imperfect.

Love,
Me.

 

Dear you,

As I passed the almost alive almost dead Bagmati today, the tipsyness slowly leaving me, I kept on thinking about you. What would you say if you found out that I was just wandering around, drinking and going to places instead of home? Because I remember, last time I was with a friend, you told us not to wander around the strange road. The road isn’t strange today and we are on bike. Plus it’s not just girls. Of course it’s dark and we should have been heading home at this time.

I also felt free. The sort of freedom you get when you are out with your friends, not caring about the world or the consequences. When I am with you, I feel protected because you have always been a big brother to me. You have always been someone I look up to, someone who inspires me.

So when I passed the lesser used road on pitch dark time, feeling that freedom of not having to care about the world, I thought of you. I wondered if you would ever accept this kind of trip. “You’re a big girl” you might say, but wouldn’t you get worried in your heart, even a bit?