Carry the weight

I just lost my mother 7 days ago. She passed away during her sleep. Everyone goes through this ordeal, right? No big deal. Let me tell you why it is very complicated for me. My mother was not by far the best person in the world. My brother had molested me for several years starting from when I was just 9 years old. He told me that “he was trying to make me free with him and siblings from other countries undress and touch their sisters all the time. And, I was overreacting.” All those years I blamed myself thinking that I was overreacting to things. I still remember how disgusted I felt when he touched my breasts and my vagina. My mother, she knew all about it. She threatened me that if I tell someone, the family would be destroyed and it would be the end of the world. So, it went on for the next 8 years. I had tried suicide so many times. Last year when I had told my sister and the rest of the family, my mom denied everything. And, not to mention, supporting the culprit. Both of my parents did. Their logic was “IT’S A MALE THING AND THERE WAS NO RAPE” I felt the pain of losing them both that time. I got to know that grief causes physical pain. Now that my mother has literally gone, I don’t know how to feel anymore. There’s a crushing pain and underneath it lies an ocean full of hatred. I feel numb. Am I being a bad daughter for speaking against my criminals? They outcasted me emotionally because I had dared to accuse their son. My life has become a nightmare I cannot wake up from. And, despite everything I loved my mother; underneath the ocean full of hatred. I tried my best to make her happy but, in the end, I failed. I failed because I stood up against the molestation. We read about child molestation all the time. However, very few of us know how it kills a part of you; the best part. I am so damaged that I don’t know I can ever be happy again. I have traveled through madness to find me. And, I don’t know if I can lose myself again for the death of someone to whom my life did not matter. Sorry ma, I can’t forgive you; not this time.


The nothingness of mind

Boundaries have always seemed absurd to me. Why do we focus so much of our energy on dividing and making things small? The boundary of races; the boundary of religion; the boundary of preferences. I don’t know why it makes sense to other people. It never to me. Life is a beautiful piece of art: Fluid but also somewhat structured.

Am I pretty?

Have you ever stood in front of the mirror wondering if you look better than other girls or not? I bet you have. In fact, most of us have. There’s no shame in it. It is worse in teen years. We spend most of our time wondering if that certain girl from class or work look better than us. Speaking of which, I have noticed a strange behavioral pattern in South Asian people in YouTube. Most of them really care about what the rest of the world thinks of them. I know their culture is the shame culture, but this is not it.

Be that as it may, I used to care about my appearance so much that it would take me an hour to get ready before going out to buy some onions. People would keep staring and stuff. I won’t lie by saying that I didn’t enjoy it for a while. Then a phone company took my photo as a part of their advertisement. There were giant billboards all over the city with my face on. People gave hundred kinds of reactions. But I? I didn’t feel any different. I didn’t get that feeling of achievement and I realized how I was wasting my energies on all the wrong things. I was like, “Ok people it has been established that I am not bad looking. I’m not wasting any more of my time in this silly race.”

I am a person with thousands of possibilities ahead

A few days later, I was watching a travel channel and I realized how much I didn’t know nor seen. From there, my thirst for knowledge began. I read everything I could get my hands on. I learned Morse code just for the sake of it. After finishing something, I get this feeling which I cannot quite express. It is like a breath of fresh air. It is quite liberating.

The more I faced obstacles as a girl, the more I studied. The more I was seen as a silly person by my male friends, the more I worked hard without being a showoff about it. The funny thing is, those male friends are not as close anymore as they used to be. They preferred being around silly girls which made them feel intelligent. It is silly, I know. But it also told me that I should change the crowd.

The curiosity of knowledge can be very addictive. Now when I talk about moving out of the city or even country alone, some people tell me, “It’s a big scary world for one girl.” And, I smile at them saying, “Girl? I left that contest a long ago. I am a person with thousands of possibilities ahead.”