Attitude Adjustment!

Over the years, if there is one thing in me that has been subjected to constant metamorphoses, it is my general disposition towards people, phases of crises, euphoria et al. And at times, it fascinates me how quickly my attitude breaks and builds, assuming a different mold every time it changes.

I wasn’t born with the best attitude towards life. Nor were you. It is not something congenital. It is acquired through habits outgrown, lessons learnt, in adversity and prosperity, mistakes made and corrected and through love gained, given and lost.

I have been through my fair share of embarrassments, confusions, frights and fights growing up. I’m pretty sure all of us do. I was touchy, insecure, impatient, short-tempered, suppressive of myself, et cetera. Today, a completely different girl looks back at me in the mirror, who is way more confident, secure and accepting of herself and others- flaws and all. Someone who laughs at the confusion, speaks up when she has to, owns up to mistakes and deals realistically with her strengths and weaknesses and one who realizes what strings are to be cut off and what to be held on to fiercely.

Because life is a bed of roses with thorns. And there’s really no point in hiding what you feel as things WILL keep changing forever. I am personally not a fan of change and that my dear reader, is the irony of my life – it keeps changing and never ceases to transform me in good ways and sometimes bad. Either way I learn and that is all needed to keep me growing and upgrading my version of self.

Our lives are beset with umpteen plot twists and how far would we go by being someone we’re not. People would see through you and I right away. Cribbing doesn’t work you know. But a cheerful outlook on situations most definitely does.

Learn to remind yourself of your greatness (Don’t roam around with an edematous head stuffed with arrogance and pride :/ 😛 ), be happy with who you are, care less about what others think of you and value what has to be valued. And if something in your life goes wrong, chalk it up to experience, let it go and move on. In any way, understand what makes you wonderful. Be true. Be you! A little attitude adjustment goes a long way. 🙂

Look at the good things in your life. Look at the good things in you.

Life-Is-Worth-The-Struggle

To infinity and back,

Maliha Taqui.

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Perfectly Imperfect!

After a tedious hiatus of ten or so days I’m happy to be back to the blogosphere. I am one of the lot of habitual over-thinkers strewn across this mighty planet. Last night, I happened to just ponder about the icky judgemental nature of we humans.

Ever wondered how much a person goes through in life  to be what he is today and what he will be tomorrow?! It is a pretty long struggle you know. And since homo sapiens cannot survive in isolation as has been reiterated from Adam and Eve’s time, we know how much the people around us impact us- starting from our family, to our friends, to spouses, etc. And to be judged by them? Imagine that!

What do we know of each others’ lives and everyday struggles to be subjected to blatant remarks with no pause whatsoever to our endless imagination? The answer you all know is- nothing! You are not making things any better by calling them names. I don’t understand how somebody’s life can affect yours when you are not even a part of their struggles. Do we really want to create bonds out of love or just picture a slideshow of people with quirky captions in our heads to make our life seem better. Or do we empathize with them genuinely? Either put a foot forward to embrace them and love them with their so-called shortcomings or leave them the hell alone.

Every one of us has been created in the same mould of clay but our souls are poles apart- the way we feel, we react, we laugh- each one of us differs from the other in every way possible. Nobody’s life is blessed with flawless-ness. Some of us are better looking, better versed, better clothed, better provided than the others. Whatever quality we lack, is compensated by God in some other facet which becomes specific of us and makes us imperfectly perfect. And we ought to be grateful for that.

We need to just focus beyond what we see through our naked eyes and penetrate a little through the soul of another and be more accepting of what does not necessarily please us. It is really a very easy thing to do if we just set our egos, insecurities, complexes aside and consider everybody our equal and not turn this into a competition of sorts.

The definition of what is perfect is totally subjective. What is good enough for me might not be up to the mark or just plain bad for you. The point is no matter how much you try to conceal or enhance your flaws, you are always going to let a part of yourself out to the world and open to judgement. And it is sad how it is all about sizes, numbers, appearances, bank balances, marks at school, social fame and other materialistic things which people chase today, blissfully unaware of missing out on something- much much much more meaningful.

Isn’t it the character we should be really vouching for?! I think it is.
You would not drive a potential good friend away because she doesn’t have the same phone as yours, would you?! Hell no. All these figures are just attributes to enhance your place in the society you live in. Please do not make this your criteria in determining somebody’s character.

Anybody or anything making you feel small or unworthy in ANY little or majorly hurtful kind of way needs to be shown the door out of your life. It is the right way to rid yourself of all the negativity you(or anyone else) does NOT deserve. Better alone than with those constantly putting you down. If in case  it’s your own bout of self-pity, ask that inner critic of yours to take a hike.

Don’t expect a flawless person in your life. You are most likely NOT to find one. Because no matter how hard we try and how many rules we bend or set up, there is nobody who is going to be 100 % right and you will land up alone. And I guarantee you that you WILL be judged- for all the good you do and all the bad you do. So better soak in that imperfection. If I had obsessed so much on finding the perfect people over all these years, I would have not been a part of the lives of SO many beautiful people I call my family and friends today.

I am a product of uncountable imperfections and through my bunch of imperfectly perfect family and friends, I have learned to look past the short-comings of people because all of us are amazing just the way we are – perfectly imperfect!

I think every single imperfection adds to your beauty. I’d rather be imperfect than perfect.

(Bollywood Actress)
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To infinity and back,

Maliha Taqui.

Short Story #2 – The Memory Will Never Die!

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He woke up to the annoying snooze of the alarm on a chilly winter morning. Isn’t it vile to have been awakened when the most brilliant phase of your dream cycle is about to gain momentum?! Squinting, he reached out for the daisy-faced alarm clock bouncing insanely on the side table aligned to the wall next to his brown poster bed and put it to rest. It beeped a 10:30 AM. The alarm had been snoozing away for a good 2 and a half hours, he made a mental comment. He twisted and turned in his warm sheets trying to get back to the deep slumber he was so cruelly woken up from, but couldn’t.

His thoughts raced quickly in his mind, flipping through his working memory to recall what he had perceived just minutes ago. He was sure it was her. No. Yes it was her he reassured himself. She was standing beneath the blue sky, smiling at him, her arms wide open- beckoning to him and he had begun to move in her direction and was barely an inch away from her face when the vicious buzzing alarmed him. A brief smile spread across his face and disappeared as quickly as it had come. He lay there staring at the ceiling for a long time, reminiscing how her eyes, her beautiful face, her sweet words had cast an unbreakable spell on him and to his own surprise, a tear trickled down his right cheek and he involuntarily wiped it off as though embarrassed. Men are strong, he sighed. He looked at the daisy clock again and this time it struck a 12:05 PM.

Switching his gaze to the enormous window on the left, he noticed the golden beams attempting to tear through the smooth silk of the chocolate curtains. He was horribly late for work. Just as he consistently was for the entire week before and the one preceding it. I will remember to set the alarm for an hour earlier tomorrow, he made a mental note nonchalantly. He rose up unwillingly from his bed, rubbing his palms together softly, walked weakly towards the windows and drew the curtains apart. The bright light blinded him for a millisecond. The sun was high up on the horizon but the wind was still cold and dry.Quietly contemplating his thoughts, he soaked in the warmth of the sun. His handsome face shone like a pearl in the golden beams but if one looked at him with more concern he would point out that it was studded with sorrow.

He recalled his last winter with her- it was one of the best winters of his life and her presence had added a beautiful meaning to it. He had fallen in love with her perks- he adored how she rose into fits of rage when he didn’t make it to dinner on time citing work issues, her uncontrollable laughter when he humored her through his silly faces and bad jokes, her endless faith in him, her innocent dreams of riding the rainbow on a unicorn, her too-much-for-her-age wisdom and advise he could never do without, the way she ridiculed him when he sang like a wounded moose, the way she passionately read to him and the way she dozed off when he read for her on frozen days like these, how she snuggled upto him when she felt blue and instantly lightened up with chocolate ice cream in her stomach, or how she comforted him with her smile when he was sad and the way she lit up his day just by being a part of it. He could write a book with umpteen sequels on her-  that was how much he knew her, that is how much he loved her.

It was 1:30 PM now. He hadn’t showered for days he realized. He entered the king sized bathroom and the hot tub. As he showered he loosened his reigns over his tears and they came gushing through his eyes- hot and endless. For the first time in many days, he found his emotions running him down. He made no effort to fight the running stream- he just couldn’t. It was all too much to come to terms to- his loss. The past weeks had gone by struggling to cope with it but today there was no struggle. His throat felt dry and his stomach was in knots- he couldn’t bear it no more and he let out a piercing cry. And wept till he could cry no more.

At half past two, he came out of his room wearing the gray tee shirt she had gifted him on the Christmas of last winter and a pair of blue denim jeans. He refused to part from it on days that he stayed indoors, avoiding all possible social contact. He headed straight to the room on the right as he climbed down the spiral staircase. He stood near the door gaping at the unkempt room that belonged to his daughter. He picked up the mess as he walked in, frowning and murmuring to himself, “She wouldn’t have liked this mess at all. At all. At all,” as he went about this chore. He then came to the desk laden with piles of untouched homework and books against the yellow wall and could not help but take a look at the pictures hanging on the wall.

Yellow was his wife’s favourite colour. “Yellow was her favourite colour,” he remembered. Staring intently, he took the picture with the thickest frame off the wall and studied it. The faces in the photograph were smiling- he, his cute little daughter clutching onto his arm and his pretty wife. How he longed to see her lovely face again. He knew that he could not. For she was far out of his reach, beyond anybody’s reach, up above in the Heavens watching over him- she was his guardian angel now. Her last words had been “He is the best man in the whole wide world and you were so wrong about him,” to her estranged mother and “I always had a lovely time with you Daddy. I love you,” to him, as she lost her battle to a terminal illness. His fingers moved over his daughter’s face in the picture and he sighed in muffled pain, “I love you Sarah. Daddy misses you. Your memory will never die!”

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The End.

To infinity and back,

Maliha Taqui