If beauty came to me

My seniors made a documentary movie this year on advertisements and the impact they have on our lives. They collected statistics and surveyed countless girls from our college on how they perceive beauty. I don't quite remember the figures but it was evident that a huge section of those interviewed didn't quite feel good about the way they looked.
I fall into that category as well. I detest the way I appear. I've never been comfortable with the way I look and its done more damage to me than can be expressed. I have spent 16 years of my 20 years of existence in an all girls environment. However, its just been the last 2 years that I have consciously been aware of my looks. College and its side-effects.
beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder?? yeah right! Ugly ducklings turn into majestic swans only in stories...
Well,I really wish everyone could watch that film... everyone. It was a very well made film. Very thought provoking... the message was put across in the lightest way possible. But, it didn't stop me from thinking again... if i was only beautiful...

thats my 1and!

http://www.ibnlive.com/blogs/suhasinihaidar/218/33277/the-face-of-fear.html

do read this post on the cnn-ibn b1og. its by suhasini haider. its abt the gujarat riots... those gruesome murders that were thought1ess1y committed in the 1and from where i originate... how can such hatred exist?

aargh!! hate this feeling within

How I wish I could just kill myself.

Stories about students from my college committing suicide abound... it really doesn't matter how many and how much of those stories, is a figment of someone's dark imagination... all that matters to me is that they had the courage and gumption to take that final step. they weren't cowards!! its difficult to kill yourself... extremely difficult. but they manged to do it. they definitely will miss out on all those beautiful moments and experiences that Future was waiting to bestow on them... and that's a pity. but those moments are so rare, and life definitely would have been unbearable. also, death and the mystery attached to it, together, make such a compelling idea...
whats the use of living a life filled with regrets and unhappiness? how i wish i could just die.
how I wish my blog had stuff that wasn't so melancholic in nature.

Dewy tear, wistful memory and disgraceful fall

You’re the dewy tear on a rosy cheek
You’re the blurred image in a tormenting dream
You’re the lingering grief behind my smile
You’re the inherent agony in a muted scream.

You’re the wistful memory left by an evanescent moment,
You’re the bad poem written in a crumpled paper ball
You’re the ray of light shrouded by wisps of cloud
You’re the sweet reason behind my disgraceful fall.

Just vanish into oblivion ’coz
You’re the one I hate to love
You’re the one I hate to think about
You’re the one I keep thinking about.

The above poem was written in Lemn Sissay’s spoken word workshop. It follows the rhyme sequence abcb. I tried to keep to it but strayed away from a set rhythm. The poem, as he said, was to be written keeping in mind the one person we immensely loved. I didn’t do that… The title, however, is in accordance to what he asked us to do, which was simply to pick out three phrases from the poem.

My take on it: It’s a hideous poem composed in a beautiful workshop.

Mirror mirror, on the wall….

A silver edged, oval mirror stares me in the face. It too has a face which seems very familiar to me. I gape at that face because I see that which I cannot see anywhere. I see a searching loneliness, an all-consuming fire. I see all that is considered to be bad by society. I see a picture of flaring jealousy and disparaging envy. I see that which I hate to see. I see that which I fear to see because I see the truth. I see me.

(GE classes help! The above piece was what I penned down when I was irritated into thinking about what a mirror reflects when I look into it…)