Mothers love

When a someone in the world knows that they’re about having a child, they usually turn their lives a whole 180 degrees, specially if they’re heading down the wrong path. I wouldn’t really know exactly, mainly because I’ve never experienced it, but so I hear. There was something I always wanted to say on this topic, but its hard to put into a few words that comprise a poem, but a blog post is perfect.

A lot of us live with our mothers (for those that don’t, I’m sorry), but we don’t get how much they do for us. Maybe our little minds begin to slightly comprehend as we grow up, but they do give up a lot. Some give up their education, their career or their entire life just to raise us. They know what they’re giving up and they do understand, but they still go ahead and do it. They fight to protect us, they keep us safe, they stay awake at night when we’re sick, because that’s who they are.

Now take us. We’re care-free, and most of us take our maternal love for granted. We use it to get what we want, but we rarely care about they think. We’ve been so used to receiving that we think that’s what mothers are; portals leading to stuff we want for example money, going out, a new device or gadget we want. A father can more or less handle us. They’re more firm with their decisions. They put their foot down, and there’s little you can do to change their mind. Mothers on the other hand, put on a puppy face and a few tears, and you’ve gotten what you wanted.

We don’t listen to our mothers much, because of their maternal instincts, they let go, till we think we have power. So we don’t listen and do more or less what pleases us. They think about our lives, our future and us as a whole even when they make the slightest decision about us. And we, we just care about the present. What thrill will going out with our friends tonight bring us, or what will it be like to go to a trip to Dubai with our friends, and then we use that puppy face and tears to convince them to go against their will, even though all along they know they’re right, but they cannot help to displease us.

And that’s what concerns me. They gave up their life, their potentially everything, just to raise you up, and you, you being the ignorant fool that you are just let that love slide by and only reciprocate when we want something from our mothers. I know I do take my mother for granted sometimes, but I also know all the sacrifices she made for me. She helps me during the day, and at night she cries for me as she prays to god. Mothers. They’re a gift we should cherish. Ask those who haven’t really had their mothers around, or those who never had mothers. Ask those who had to raise themselves without that maternal love, ask those who wished they had just a hint of what you did ,and you’ll know what you have is special. What you have cannot be bought or sold, what you have is literally priceless. Shame on those who raise their voice above their mothers, shame on those who disrespect their mothers and shame on those who take them for granted.

The cliche of happy birthday

So today was my birthday. Actually it still it. But there was nothing very much happy about it, and got me wondering, "happy birthday". What if you were dying and this was going to be your last birthday, how exactly was that happy? Or what if you were having the most terrible day of your life, how exactly was that happy?

Here's the background on my terrible 18th. I woke up terrified, I had an exam I had barely prepared for and I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be a walk in the park. It was going to be more like being dragged on a rusty lead infused tarmac while being chained to a pick up truck bursting at 100 miles an hour in a cris-cross motion. And I wasn't far from prediction; it was a terrible nightmare. I mean while studying for the exam, I didn't get a word, instead my brain was imaging potatoes. Literally. Potaotes.

And as if that wasn't enough, I hadn't slept for 3 days in a row properly, courtesy of my high schools examination boards messed up schedule, and I was in for another aweful afternoon; preparing for chemistry. I got bored mid-way studying, so I decided to take a break and started talking to a couple of people I know from my childhood. We laughed, we joked, we had a fun time. I even met my friend who had just come back from abroad after 6 months. Happy birthdays floated around, but there was honestly NOTHING remotely happy about it.  The day went by, and more wishes piled up on my phone, calls, messages, Facebook, Twitter, DM, inbox, all that stuff. They didn't make me feel better the least bit.

But you know why they call it happy birthday? Because its only a happy birthday if you have that one person in your life that can make your day just by saying it. The rest of the world said it because it was social protocol. Few meant it, but still, just the words happy birthday mean so much when they come out a person that means so much to you. And that's all I needed. That one message, that one phone call, that one text. And it came. Albeit a little bit late, but it did. And it made my night. For a moment I sat there smiling like a foolish idiot, and it made me forget about my horrible day for a second. I didn't need the worlds wishes when I had the person that makes my other half beside me. I didn't need the empathy or the sympathy of the people that were going through the same hell as I was. All I needed were two words from the right person. That was my happy birthday.

I know this is more personal, but we've had a rocky few months. A few ups and downs, a few weird things going on between us, but that message there is what keeps us going. It doesn't matter, because I know that we're still there for each other, and that's all that matters. And like I said, I needed two words from the right person, instead I for a whole freaking paragraph longer than a Harry Potter series. Needless to say, I run around thinking I'm independent, but to hell with that, I need my other half more than anything in the world, and she came through for me today, so as my birthday ends, I want to say thank you for everything. From the spec of the dust to the universe, you mean everything to me, I hope I have remotely made your day like you made mine with your words. <3

Finding yourself

Finding yourself

“I’m taking a year off to find myself.” That was a phrase that always annoyed me, partially because I never understood what it meant. What is finding yourself? I think even blind people know where they are, or have these people who are finding themselves suddenly become demented and assumed the identity of Waldo without knowing?

It wasn't until much long ago when I had to make my university choices that I understood what this phrase meant. It was more like “what was I born to do, and who am I” kind of question. And I’ve given myself quite a few good hard looks in the mirror, but I don’t know who I am. There’s nothing but a bare reflection looking back at me. And even though I know I’m whole, it was the very first time I felt empty. I didn't really know myself. Who was I exactly? I needed to find myself.

We go about our lives, doing what other people have dictated for us, and live by their set of rules. We've molded ourselves into becoming what others have wanted, perhaps for themselves, and I remembered the phrase from one of my favorite songs “Curtains are drawn but we’re still dressed.” There are a million ways to analyse this, but here’s one of my theories. We have been put on show for so long, that we’ve become used to it. It doesn't really matter who we really are, what our niche in life exactly is, because even when no ones watching, we’re still playing the characters we’ve been built into. We don’t try different roles to see which one suits us, because we’ve never gotten out of our original cast.

What happens if one day we get fed up of who we are? What if one day we want to find who we are, and just understand ourselves, but its too late? What if we’re so iron clad into this fixture that we never get out of it till it fully sets and drills us into itself? And I’ve heard people say “I know what I want to be. I want to be a doctor,” or “I want to be an engineer.” Honestly, I envy the people who say “I want to do arts,” or “I want to play music”. We stare down at these people like they’re inferior, when really, most of us are the lost souls who have no idea what we want to be.

For me, I heard the sounds of people saying “doctor, doctor doctor.” Sometimes at night I might’ve even heard whispers of people telling me that. And so I went for it. I went for what the world intended me to do, because it seemed like the logical step to take. Money, job security and a good name; it seemed like the perfect package. Except I was the unhappily wrapped gift inside it.

I feel it inside me. I feel that I’m made for a reason, but I wish I knew what it was. And when I say made for a reason, I don’t mean I feel like I’m chosen, or I’m meant to be famous, but really made for something, a purpose. Kingdoms have fallen because the menial slaves couldn’t get their jobs done properly. But I still don’t know my true happiness. I still don’t know my true calling if you like to call it that.

And throughout this passage I’ve said we, us, you and me, and so far its just been a figure of speech really. But are there others out there who’re looking at a reflection they don’t understand, or is it just me? Because I bet there are many people who get something.Maybe not a full picture, but even a hazy one is fine. Maybe pixelated, maybe shaky, but I just feel like I wish I knew who I was. I go into exams and I come out of them wanting to rip my own head off, because I don’t get what’s going on. I don’t understand the reality of the matter. I don’t know who I am. Maybe if I did, I’d do something I love rather than something that is conventional. I really want to know who I am, I really want to understand the reason for my existence, but I feel it would take time, and I’ve always been taught time is money. Granted that I most probably will do nothing useful in this time, but thats the illusion I live in, becuase lets face it, giving up on a dream ( in this case finding yourself) because of the time it will take to accomplish is foolish because time till pass by anyway, but for now, I will find the comfort in knowing that I’m not alone, that I have someone beside me in this ugly world of unknown.

I don’t usually do this, but to end off, here’s a little … thingy, I honestly don’t know what to label it,song, poem, whatever, called “lost soul”. I hope you like it :)

Im trying to find myself,

In this ugly world,

I’m looking in a mirror,

But there’s nothing to be seen,

I hear people saying,

They’ve known who they want to be,

Is it just me,

Or are there people,

Looking at a,

Reflection they dont understand,

I think I was made for greater things,

I wish I knew for once what they were,

There’s a hollow form looking back at me,

And sometimes I look back and think,

Is this really me?

I really wish I knew myself,

I really wish someone would hold my hand,

And take me to the light,

Sadly I’m living a fantasy,

Sadly this is reality,

I guess I’ll have to live with,

Just someone being there by my side,

Someone who's just as lost as me,

Maybe we’ll find ourselves together,

Maybe we’ll even become a you and me.