What #Broken feels like...

Who am I? What am I doing to myself?

It's not the heart or mind that I am battling today. It is my soul. The yearning to be free of all those that control my actions - of who I am supposed to be, what am I supposed to wear, who I should be friends with, who I should be talking and associating myself with, how I should act in public, where I should make myself visible... 

Somewhere in these last five months - I have let myself down. Again. Let myself be bullied into believing that if I fit into this mold or this vision that people have of me, I will be accepted. 

I fought through ten years of school, of people judging me based on my appearance and sub-average intellect. Xavier's opened a whole new world for me - a world where people accepted me for the way I am - they let me find my identity, that I was amazing, just the way I was.

In Canada, I didn't have the financial wherewithal to be part of the niche - I never carried a flicker of hope of fitting in (nor did I want to) and was lucky enough to make some life-long friendships to steer me through this "appearance" conundrum once again.

Back in Mumbai, through the whole Media circus - I somehow managed, I was dressing, talking and interacting with people I was comfortable with - no questions asked.

Even the Corporate life, while it has heavily influenced who I am today - and I'm not going to say, I sold out because, to quote Nixon - I've earned every damn thing I've got. Yet...

Bangalore was my redemption. A chance to regroup, reorder and rethink where my life was headed. Who are the people I wanted and needed and leave out the rest. What was it my soul was yearning for. And I discovered so many facets that each day I attempted to accept whatever came my way, with grace and humility. 

But... (And what is life without buts, ae?)

I was scared to come back because this city, its people, its environment, it hurts you. It can rip your soul apart. I know, it's done it to me before. How can I be brutally honest with myself anymore? I have most of the answers but I desperately don't want to accept them because that would mean I made a mistake.

I cared. 

I cared enough to make myself small, I cared enough to dress up, I cared enough to travel the distance at whatever time, I cared enough to tell you how I felt till the very end, I put myself out there for you - humiliated myself, defended you and your actions, swallowed whatever little pride I had, I cared enough to write long messages because I was left without a voice, I cared enough to make you something out of nothing, I cared enough to take you at your word and believe you, I cared enough to forgive, forget and get on with whatever this was, because my strength doesn't come from my pride - it comes from my ability to make myself vulnerable, to put myself out there, to be the best version of me. No one, NO ONE, can take that away from me.

Till the very end. I believed, you'd come back. You'd call. You'd meet. We'd sort this and get through this. You'd help me understand why you always feel the need to push me away, why I was the last thing on your mind, why you couldn't just pick your phone and talk to me, what was it you wanted and needed... so many whys, unfortunately.


The truth of the matter is, I didn't know how I could be someone you miss. So I walked away with the assumption that it was all of Me, who didn't seem to be good enough for all of You.

Alicia Keys sang: “When a Girl Can’t Be Herself,” where she says, In the morning from the minute that I wake up / What if I don’t want to put on all that makeup / Who says I must conceal what I’m made of / Maybe all this Maybelline is covering my self-esteem.

'Cause I don't want to cover up anymore. Not my face, not my mind, not my soul, not my thoughts, not my dreams, not my struggles, not my emotional growth. Nothing.

Be happy. Always.