Today, I want to educate you.

Today I want to clear the air, filled with ambiguity, about why a man is different from a woman.

Today, I want to explain why this difference subjects her to completely different rules, specially, but not limited to, clothing.

Today, I want to highlight the various situations of discrimination against women , which are obviously justified and like always, have an explanation.

 

You see, men and women don’t just vary in terms of their nether regions.

You see, a woman’s shoulders are completely different from a man’s, they are worlds apart and ought not to be exposed.

You see, a woman’s legs are completely different from a man’s, they are world’s apart and ought not to be exposed.

You see, a woman’s midriff is completely different from a man’s, the secret of it’s existence should never be revealed, it ought not to be exposed.

 

Women, why do you not understand, that your bra straps are a distraction?

Women, why do you not understand that your cleavage is a distraction?

Women, why do you not understand, your secret must be kept, that they shouldn’t ever know of your chest, of your breasts?

 

Women, why do you not realize, that your thighs, world’s apart from the thighs of men, are a source of temptation?

Women, why do you not realize, that your spaghetti straps, their daintiness, are a source of enticement to men?

 

Women, it is time to realize, that you have to dress right.

Women, it is time to realize, that nothing you wear should ever be too tight.

 

Women, it is time to realize, that your skin is a secret, your anatomy is a secret and that secrets must be kept.

 

Women, it is time to realize, that you bring harm upon yourself, that you tempt the men and then blame them.

 

Women, it is time to realize, it is your responsibility to allow men to concentrate.

Women, it is time to realize, that you are being sexualised because you are the problem.

 

Women, it is time to see the error of your ways.

To dress like this, is that how you’ve been raised?

Women, it is time to realize, that you dare not fight against the norms, just conform, conform, conform.

 

 

 

 

Lulled by the stupefying illusions, lulled by the beauty of the sky, lulled by the essence of the stars, we fall asleep through the early hours of the day, during her infancy dreaming of the sky, the stars. Little do we know that we belong here, as a part of this particular galaxy, as a part of this extraterrestrial vastness. I’m not being cliché, talking about how we all belong on this planet. We are linked to this universe in the most intricate of ways. We all have elements in us, elements which belong to the stars.

You are hydrogen. You are carbon. You are oxygen. Stars constitute of hydrogen, of carbon, oxygen. We are similar in the existence of elements. Bizarre and beautiful all the same. Every molecule in your system was once a part of this giant mound of gas and elements, light yet powerful, beautiful and hard to reach. Every atom in your body was made of a star that once died. The elements they possess, nitrogen, oxygen, hydrogen and the like, the elements of utmost necessity to our existence and evolution, were passed on to us. You are not a star. You are a cluster of stardust, an explosion of nebulae, a remainder of a supernova. This theory or fact, I cannot be sure which, makes me feel connected to the Universe. Not bigger or beyond it, but a part of it. I am the Universe. The Universe is me. I am in the Universe and it is in me. Safe to say, the night sky is probably the most fascinating. Dark, vast, intricate, complicated. Just like us. We have our dark sides, we are vast, not by the area we occupy or the volume we take up, but in our thoughts, the length of our blood vessels, the depth of heart. We are intricate- a collection of the stars and of our self. A collection of blood and bones and skin and nerves and veins. A beautiful mess of it all. We are complicated- in our actions in our thoughts. We can often not understand others and at other times ourselves. We are all this, but we are a star. Not metaphorically, but literally. We are a star, a cluster of stars actually and the beauty this expresses, the vastness of the Universe, yet the connection we share will continue to astonish and amaze me forever.

Maybe, some of some of us, have anxiety, or cancer, or a defect in our anatomy perhaps because we have elements in us from stars that died too young. Stars who didn’t live their 10 billion years. Stars that died, but never left, not until they gave life to something. Not until they assured that their death resulted in the reincarnation of something beautiful. We die, just like the stars. Stars live for billions of years, and die, with a bang. They fade, they die, but they refuse to remain silent as they wave goodbye. An explosive death of a star, or a supernova, is what I like to think the eqivalent of the last breath that we take. Stars die when they run out of fuel, when they can no longer sustain their own weight. I am reminded of the striking similarities between the between the death of the star and the death of a human. But stars remain, in the atmosphere as a remainder of their constitutional elements, or in us, as a part of us, as an element necessary for us. The death of a star, allows for a life of a human. Humans too, like stars, leave an impact on their environment, on their friends, their family. They pass on, but linger just like the stars.

Most likely, only half of what I’ve written has the slightest scientific relevance. Maybe it is just in my head. But that does not have to mean that is not real. I’ve thought about the stars as people, maybe because they help in my existence and in my sustenance. So let us get on, with moon dust in our lungs, stardust coursing through our veins, a child of the cosmos and a ruler of the skies.

We have a natural tendency to ponder and question and wonder at every possible opportunity we get. And despite constantly reminding myself of the fine line between thinking and overthinking, I fall victim to overthinking more often than I’d like to admit. And usually neither the process of overthinking nor its results are things I find eye opening or enjoyable, but this particular day, (over)thinking proved fruitful, much to my surprise.

I realized that my life is being spent, not wasted exactly, but spent counting the number of days left for the weekend or looking forward to the days when I have no tests. The only thought I had was ‘What the heck am I doing with my life?’. There are so many important things to learn and so many exhilarating experiences to enjoy and things to witness and wonders to be awestruck at. There are so many things to do and nearly not enough time. I have books to read, thoughts to pen down, places to visit, things to learn about, places to travel, hours to sleep. And yet, I spend my days behind closed doors memorising materials that I will forget faster than I learnt. I spend my days worrying about the credibility of memory, its quality. I spend the days checking my phone to read messages from a lot of people I will probably not remember in five years. I spend my days on Youtube watching videos of people who I wish to look like or be like. I spend my days dreaming of the time when I will be successful, as if I am not succeeding in my own little ways, everyday.

I spend precious minutes trying to cover the ‘flaws’ on my face because of my fear of being judged, as if I wont be judged either way. I spend precious minutes in class, considering whether or not I should answer, as if a wrong answer would annihilate me, when the most that could happen is that I could be wrong. I spend precious minutes on my phone, double tapping posts that add no quality to my life, but definitely subtract the quality of my vision. I spend precious minutes (and energy) arguing with my family over things that will be forgotten within a span of minutes. I spend precious minutes talking about others, when instead, I could just focus on myself and the ones I love. I spend precious minutes judging others which could be utilised for self reflection.

I would write about the precious seconds I spend, but you get the idea. I spend way too much time and energy on things that don’t matter. There are two kinds of things in life- those that matter and those that don’t. There’s nothing in between, just these two extremes. I want to focus on the things I am good at. I want to nurture my skills and my talents, limited as they may be. I do not have to be the jack of all trades, I don’t even have to be a master of any. All I can and should and must do, is to be the best I can. I don’t want my thoughts to be a hindrance to me, nor do I want it to be something that inhibits me. I want my thoughts to be guidelines, things that encourage me to be the best possible version of my self, not things that put restrictions on me. I want the sheer contentment of going to bed at night, fully aware of the fact that I did justice to these twenty four hours that I am ever so lucky to have. I want the sheer euphoria after getting off a ride at an amusement park, I want the sheer awe at having witnessed the wonders of the world. I want all that and I want more. I have to realize what I already know. It’s only me who has the control over my life, I’m in the driver’s seat. And I have to take control and assert myself and determine what happens with my life, because only dead fish go with the flow.