With her forearm she gently pushed away the pile of clutter on her desk and placed another intricately carved pencil case. Plucking a tissue from the box of her Premier special face tissues she rubbed her case and blew through the carvings, ensuring that each nook and cranny was rubbed to perfection. She then pulled out a random selection of pencils from her glittery pencil stand and released them in the circular carved wooden platform. It was midnight, she ran her fingers through her long deep brown hair, gathering the strands towards the back of her head and tightened it together with a black band. She then walked towards her long mirrored cupboard, and found her hands fumbling through the cupboard door to pull out a lipstick. She glossed her lips with a deep violet and smacked them together and gave herself half a smile. She draped herself in a soft satin printed kaftan she brought from the streets of Fort Kochi Beach, and sat cross legged on her bed. A cup of green tea in one hand, and a cube of dark chocolate in the other. She took a deep breath, as she tried to find her calm and satisfaction amidst the chaos. And began wondering what else there was that needed change.
It was only before time,
That the scattered brain of mine
Joined its clumps in confusion
And came to a horrible conclusion
That nothing seemed to rhyme
That my deadlines had passed my time
That my soul had leaked away
And left my body to decay.
I’ve been meaning to find out the true origin of my commitment, why did I decide to bring faith into my life? Why am I not convinced by athiest debaters and scientologists? How did I become a believer?
There comes a time when you start questioning everything, actually, questioning begins from a really young age. When my mother told me to pray, she said, ask for whatever you want, anything and everything. I remember secretly wishing for a candyland and the largest dairy milk in the world, I remember asking for endless toys and chocolates, and I remember, always finding what I wanted the very next day, or perhaps finding it after some time, or maybe not getting it at all.
Since my upbringing, my family was very keen on making me understand my faith, they wanted me to know why I follow my faith, why I read this and say this. The truth is, I didn’t realize that my faith never made me do something merely out of tradition or culture.
This however, took me a long time to understand, understand my faith. Because I was entangled in a culture oriented society that our faith had become a mere category of being part of this culture, because often, I dealt with people of different faiths, asking me to do things that I was never exposed to, I dealt with people of my city, who disagreed with practices that I thought were morally correct, but they didn’t.
Because I was blind to the fine line between culture and faith, because it had camouflaged so easily that my culture was followed as a flawless practice. And it was then, that I started to find flaws, that I thought were a part of my faith.
You see, it was never faith that disturbed me, it was the cultural interpretation of faith from different diversities that forced my mind into this dimension of ignorance and constant questioning. Ignorance, only because I was vulnerable to it. I still am. I am vulnerable to intolerance and ignorance and arrogance and pride. (But these qualities may not be in a person questioning faith, it was simply my state)
But this is what my faith taught me, it taught me the true meaning of my existence, and to believe, you require strong conviction. I believe in the Almighty, the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth, the most Wise, the most Just. I do not believe that I am merely a creature that developed from dust. I do not believe in theories.
Because the tides of righteousness have pulled the ocean of my brain towards a calm and serene shore. My heart feels more content with the truth of life. That I need to understand when the value of Materialism began and when Faith was forgotten.
That the world is merely an illusion, and we need to prevent ourselves from being sucked into it’s gold painted treasures.
My sister made my Facebook account when I was seven, I was designing my first Yahoo avatar around the age of 8, three years ago I found myself getting introduced to Instagram, gmail and google+, I had reactivated my Facebook unknowingly at the age of nine, opened a new twitter account just a few months ago, and I’ve had a Skype since the age of 12. Who could forget those good old days of Club Penguin and Fantage? (I did consider them to play a very crucial role in social media.)
The thing is, with my mind raving constantly about various figments of my imagination or past/present/future events, I noticed that Social Media played a big role in my imagination. My perspective has most definitely been remodeled and reshaped multiple times, my attitude and my humility has gone on a very adventurous escapade revealing my bitter and a not so bitter, a quite humble self, and of course, it created a huge impact on my friendship with others and my discovery of my own identity.
But here’s what I’d like to introduce, the illusion that I constantly keep trying to disentangle myself from, the illusion of self satisfaction through counting my likes or waiting for individuals to message me, the illusion of proving my self worth or beauty through pictures or messages, the illusion of happiness, when you’re given all the attention you desire. Why should I call it an illusion? Isn’t it all real?
Of course it’s real, which makes it more illusive, actually. Although I believe that social media has benefited us in multiple ways, this one quality of social media, a quality of illuding one into happiness, when in fact, it consumes the time you could spend discovering your true worth and your passion. We tend to be so consumed in the virtual world, that while liking all the “Carpe Dieme” posts, we’re not really following the mantra are we? Are we really ‘seizing the moment’?
While we sit and ogle at our social media platforms, the technological trance swoons us into the fictitious reality, locking our mindset and perspective,
Until we see another post.
The Social Media addict,
She was destined to become the next Miss World.
It only required her to be a bit less herself, and a bit more, common.
She was in desperate need of advice, to reach the finals.
‘You were Chosen, You are Destined,
Your hair sweeps the world off their feet, and your eyes remind them of the deep blue sea, Do not eat, your size will dramatically increase. Walk in heels until your feet bleed, and change your accent, so that you may blend in. Reveal your outer beauty, and destroy your inner beauty. Shade your skin as gold as possible and redefine your cheekbones until they reach their peaks. Your dress should not exceed an inch below you knee, laugh, but laugh consciously. Remember, your race is superior and your body is ideal.No other woman is considered surreal,
until she hears her body scream.’
I apologize for never being able to please you.
Actually, I don’t.
But no, I am not completely against you.
Because I am a part of you.
But this is why sometimes, I feel that we can never be alike.
You taught me the difference between Fantasies and Reality.
A Fantasy, that one day the world will make Peace,
The Reality, you will never stop having enemies.
You’ve made me realize who is in Power,
The media, spying on us from tall towers.
You love them sometimes, and at other times you loathe
Their attitude towards your beliefs and the word Hope.
You have turned me into a Rebellious Teen,
Trying to understand what Open Minded means
To drown my beliefs, and accept your ideology
Of What is Freedom, What is Equality.
How much can I say?
Will it change your perspective, definitely, Nay.
But I Thank you, dear Society
For helping me understand,
Your levels of Superiority, and
Where I Stand.
They weren’t like the others. Their hearts were not sore. They felt what people had felt no more. They had forgiven, But they did not Forget. Their scars and bruises had not made them Regret. It was a sign, and they were Proud. If only you knew what this all is About.
The World is at Peace, Now No One will Bleed.
Or So I Dream.
Let me breathe
Allow my heart to speak
Not my mind, controlled by you’re perspective
But my Mind, which lets me believe.