Financial Independence is your choice

Jingle Bells is on the doorway stretch. Like every year, the whole year had a powerful chronic discussion about financial independence, feminist jurisprudence, investments, individuality and the chaos that going to face after completing Law graduation. People, it is not so easy to live the life you wish. But it can make you lenient by only being true to yourself. Rest is a drama. 

I have been more frustrated for living in the patriarchal society, 24 years old is surviving in a land where the woman is second sex. 

Often I describe in my circle this is a skirmish happening on the balcony of a ragged castle. So I was not a nice person. 

The zero balance of my account taught me, Money is essential. The sanitary pads are so expensive that they have switched to the menstrual cup. 

Why are many women of our families not involved in financial matters? It's not the same now, stop earning a few bugs. There is much more to learn in financial matters. Stop being helpless, make wise decisions and be self-worthy. 

Just like everything else, it’s personal. We think differently, learn differently, and we’re motivated differently. And we all might have a different reason for why we want to do things.

It’s helpful to start with identifying your reason for making a change you believe is important to you. And then creating a doable plan.

Some of us might be motivated by the benefits of exercise and plump retirement accounts. Others find motivation by considering the detriments of a high-fat, highly processed food diet. Or no emergency fund, lots of debt, and a sudden job loss.

It's you who decides what is your main investment. It's you who plans how you can start earning and find space on the earth.  

" I truly believe that liberty for a woman comes from the ability to make financial decisions for her life."____ Reema Bint Bandar Al Saud

Meri Maa.

Hey, I don't know who is reading me or who is not even reading the first line of me. But my blog echoed my heart, not the brain. Apart from all other social media things and work, this is picturing what I am and what I will be (it can be tiny things you see on earth or it can be out of the universe). Gladly, in a hut under a lantern, with a piece of paper, celebrating my one year of blog writing. I love you for raising me to a garage that I much needed. 

Reciting mother stories was a bit difficult for me since I started to write things I love. I still remember I wrote the poem "To my dad" when I was doing my first graduation. When it got published in the college magazine Umma said to me " you are a father girl", I gave a wicked smile to her jealous statement because that was not the reason why I didn't write for her. 

Still, I have that same reluctance to write, where should I start? What should I write? It can't be structured one because she is an unconquerable person, literally the only diva of my life, the only rays of home. She asked me to get a job, to have outings with her, to have lunch in a food court where there is a crowd of people. She needs to walk through the lobby of a Western city. Why am I not chill like my mother? 

I am ain't a person like her with a broad heart to say mistakes are a lesson. I have never enjoyed my beauty after a party by looking in the full mirror like my Maa did. She used to be courageous and smart, she told me that I should be identified, not the weak part of you. She used to laugh out loud like this is a rare moment. But why did she give up all her life for her husband and children? And she continuously gives me the response like, 'I can't compromise anything over you people, this is my world.' 

She has saved her chocolate for me, she has saved her pocket money for me and she never let me go to school without her hug or kiss. We used to make romance like I am her mother and she is my kido, that was the funniest part of us. I used to tie her hair like a school child and once I even did a haircut on that. She is cool and she never complained about my decisions. 

Suddenly, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and I didn't believe it. I think I have taken it easy. Because she is a manageable lady but you know for many reasons we haven't met for that period of operation and chemo. We were so sensitive and kind of weird. I have chanted in my heart like I am going to be a daughter of a super mom who has survived cancer. Yup, I was wrong.

But the thing is I am a surviving daughter of a beautiful mother who once lived here.

Okay, this blog isn't enough to tell our stories.

I love you for being an incredible human in my childhood and teenage years. And your memories pour much boldness to my adulthood.

With love, 

daughter.

Why do I always have a crush on girls?

In a crowded city, we howl like a fox and laugh like bitch. It's midnight, happening in a fashionable street in the orb. Half of her hair is blue, one of them is busy catching a cab, a few of them saying crappy things about life, and the rest debating politics. I think this street is not enough for us.

Nothing more, nothing less, we are girls. We are brave. We are bold. We are glee for the hearts.

Glued in a single mattress, weekends are fun. We are taking our favourite food from the best outlet, spending good money on the weekend's food and eating without eyes. Music needed to be changed from high volume to mild; sometimes, we scream with the chorus, but the loveliest facet is weeping in the shoulder for no reason. She holds me. I keep her tight; we say together better horizons are waiting for us. Forget! Forget! Forget!

Back in the hectic time when the weekend left, to the point of being a transnational level leader, to conquer ambitions and say bid farewell to the boss, continuously working to happen that startups to developed phase, hurry up learning without shaky, sketching the traffic blocks, penning the story of people who come across the day, and indestructible discussion of feminism. It might go 3 am by disputing social, political, economic, and intellectual equality for women. And she desperately throws the pillow by saying in a matriarchal society; I would be a meninist. One continuously argues, Are you talking about the parallel universe?

Engaging in the garden, she is a crazy-making surprise. She was clambering a mountain that ticked the bucket list, the way she caught a sunrise was more heroic. A backpack is getting ready for the long voyage, travelling to the wild to live the fullest. To play in the sand till the sun goes down and sit together with a piece of salted pineapple for the rest of life. Scarlett stories never fade; nothing exotic but eternal. 

Sun stuck above my head, probably mid-noon. I was lying in bed. Why do I always have a crush on girls?  Incredibly, it is unstoppable for me since I began to meet each superwoman in my life. It's like a wave, constant but unique. I may not be a counted lass for you, it varies for people, but a handful of superwomen makes the tale flawless. You are the one I count to be in my stories; each of you is a chapter of lusciousness that never goes out of my gut. No one has ever stolen my heart as you did. It's love; it's passion, it's a dream, and it's our harmonious valley apart from all our busiest life. 

Take a cruise to the scarlet skies!

Sitting under a grey shaded sky, where I couldn't even touch skittle sized bubbles swirling around me. The stars are faded in the pearly aura, and the moon was never known; she isn't luminous as before. 

I wake up to a day that smelled of ashes, and tiny blooms are awaited for a long time. I believed this hadn't happened before. Am I going to end? Or the earth has stuck in the middle of revolving? I ran to the lawns of a cliff to see the colour of butterflies, but they are scribbled in the pastel skies. I gazed at those evil eyes for long, and my heart said, stop chasing me for two, three and more times. 

Why is it a dark day? I clambered every single hut to get a piece of serenity; I got tired and sobbed in the branches. And I see a little shack above a tree, where I saw a speck of lantern that reflects on my glued eyes. Like Tangle saved Flynn Rider, I snatched each one to feel the animated skies.

And it was a yacht of the woods; it sailed in the mud. We never came back; we continued the cruise to find a scarlet sky and how we ended up in unfavourable skies.

Paintings by Jasna Femin

Sand, Sea and Sun.

Heart Breaking!

We even couldn't find what is going through us—desperately lasting for sunrise. There are times when you fail to stop the thoughts that put you more down. Let it flow. It's always better to leave for the emotions to happen rather than blocking to change for a good time. Some people give you that hope, but sometimes nobody can help you. Remember that there are times when inhaling is a bit difficult; how would I overcome this suffocation? I lay long in my rug to have ease like a trunk that has no purpose. It is okay. Give me time; I will get it back. 

I know it is striving during a disastrous period; it is hard to believe that life will come back to a semblance of normalcy. I feel like my loved ones are far away,  some losses are unrecoverable, and I am abandoned in the dried hut. Who shall hear my woes? The crowd howled like this is the period of catastrophe; when shall we go back to the 'ordinary'? We longed for a sunset beyond skepticism; we sang for sail in the yacht to flee from pain. 

And we believe this period won't come back to us. Also, we chanted, never come back to us. After a long breath, this is the time to mourn. Repeated, it won't happen again. A fear, trauma, frustration, anguish is rooted in my hearts, a pandemic era. I am writing this blog while I am surviving on COVID 19 pandemic from India. It is a worldwide pandemic, and now it is harmful to my nation. We called it the second wave, and probably there would be a third wave. Do all these waves take us to the surf? One of the scariest years passed by holding older adults and infants. And like how a hen is saving the chicken from an eagle. All we see in the sky is an urge. 

What I and others are experiencing is surviving, apart from peace, happiness and celebrations. And we are craving for the same sand, sea and sun, where it took us to the horizons of hope. 

I am fighting; if I wouldn't, this caged life might take me to a paralysed palpable realm. How could I give up on an epidemic disease? I am more powerful than before to find myself, and I strongly speculate on a rebuild. I am floating in the sea. It gives me dignity even amid the situation. We dont believe in tomorrow, but we need to engrave for the sake of our dearest soul. I have continued playing in the sand till the sun goes down. And I go for a wander before dawn cracks. 

Historians will inscribe about COVID19 sufferings but be glad about a story of survival.

(Picture Design collaboration with Shabeeb Nattukal)

Neither gold nor pink states my identity!

Art is redefining the new resistance. It isn't honey that I am pouring to my petals; that intended passion inside me makes me more powerful. A long way down the corridor, where I cannot find the horizon since it's maturing. It's not easy as I thought before; identity is awaiting me. It's unstoppable. I never believe it is wearing tons of gold and pretty pink clothes. It is barely material and stops it before devouring you. Identity is strong as an attitude, it is pure as love, and it needs life to live. 

I sing for my mental independence, where I have my fire to blow. It makes sense to my growth. I care for my better health; it needs support to stay like a pillar. I build single blocks for my pursuit where I confidently look ahead. I heartily step for financial stability, and I often look back for all the good memories. But we sure love our evil days; it lit the lamp for us.

Every lush mist-clad hill has the story of an unfaded flower. It never bends for dusk, it never bows for the cactus, and it greets the enthusiasm. I shall see my identity; I shall see myself. It's been a thousand more years travelling to you, the more I am wandering for you. The more I am winning. 

Body Shaming ain't fun.

Are you a person who is insecure about body shaming? Have you ever experienced that whole day of depression of the same? Yes, body-shaming isn't enjoyable for all.

I was thinking long like should I generalize body shaming through my blog or should I share my experience? Generalizing easy! But how I will start sharing my experience, it is very small as a comet but hurt deep inside my heart.

I had so many bodies shaming in my childhood for being short and not fair. But seriously it doesn't affect me or I was so cool. Then I grew up. And after that, there had body shaming but wasn't bothering me. The two incidents recently, both happened while I am already in Premenstrual syndrome. It was for being fat, aged look, and the body structure. I was doubled with frustration. I haven't spoken or shouted because they meant (people) to me. But now feel a bit regret for that because they might have continued the same. Some people are under lifestyle disorder, people are trying to get slim, people are trying for a fit body, people are trying for that so-called fair skin, people are trying to get boobs, hardly coloring hairs, getting muscles, not smiling for being disordered teeth and there are so many battling for their physical appearance( it is completely their choice) so when someone insult for their body, it is bad. It is too awful.

And when I got those comments, I was falling into a pit because I never thought or imagined this stuff. I have always been visualizing that my whole life goes like what my heart does. I am a superpower lady who is hustling to the peak. Of a sudden, hearing their joke made me a night sleepless and unworthy. I cried I stab to my chair and continuously wrote I am insecure. I was asking myself that 'why I am so silly?', that was merely a joke. But got more frustrated for not reacting because should they repeat the same to others!

I have shared a little portion of body shaming, and this isn't new but let shall continue the discussion to save many. Those who have lost their life, name,  passion, attitude, sense, and for those who are still struggling. Let us stay stronger with our body as our hearts.

Me and you, let us not be involved in the body shamers even as pastime.

(P.S Vishnupriya, Nadirsha, and Anjana pump me that energy to wake up and shine.)