Simran – to discover, to desire, to become

 

There was a deafening sound to the silence brought by the darkness of the morning. It was pitch black when my alarm clock awoke me, and forced me to surrender under its authority. I threw off my cozy comforters, brushed my teeth, clothed myself, and embraced the day like any other.

As I walked through the narrow streets towards my way to work, the soles of my shoes stuck to the road—a mere result of the dampness in the air due to the clashing and thundering from the night before. I brushed past “Dave’s Dazzling Donuts” and “Carl’s Creamy Coffee”—my usual breakfast places—in order to ensure that I would not be late for the factory. It usually opened at 5 am, but due to the arriving Christmas season, Mr. Buckley required the workers, also known as me, to open at 4 am. My hands clasped the steel handle of the large glass doors, preparing me to enter the workplace; however something inside of me was preventing me from doing so. I noticed the sound of my heartbeat, quiet yet loud, like a fist pounding on a door. As I began to get lost in my thoughts I heard someone behind me clear their throat, urging me to move forward. I closed my eyes, then opened them again, and found myself walking towards my required position.

As I began to work at my station, I looked around at the machines, creating their clones of the original product, making sure each one looked exactly the same as the one before it. I reached over to take a closer look at one of them, but suddenly the conveyor belt jerked forward, causing me to lose it, among many. Everyone around me had their eyes glued to their machines, ready to take action towards any unwanted movement. I glided my thumb over the buttons of my machine; red, black, green, blue, yellow, orange. Which one was which? That, I did not know. All that I knew of was that the green meant go, and the red, stop. It was all I had been taught.

*Squeak Squeak*

“No!! Stop! Why won’t this machine stop?” I frantically ran my eyes as fast as I possibly could through every button on the machine, and yet nothing was working. The forklift kept throwing the products off the belt, disrupting the entire cycle. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me as I struggled to find the right button, yet no one came to help me. Why would they? I wasn’t worth the effort, it was no use, at least that is what I had been told. As the laughs began to become apparent, I slammed my fingers on the buttons harder, as if it would make a difference.

“What are you doing?!” The higher level employees came running towards my station, yelling at the top of their lungs.

“You have the lever on the wrong side of the line! Were you not listening during your training session! You have big ears don’t you? Why can’t you use them? And your eyes are far enough apart; can’t you see how to manage the machines? Everyone else can do it properly, why can’t you? Go home!”

I shrunk back, feeling the burning sensation on my cheeks increase due to the embarrassment I couldn’t help but intake. I ran out of the factory with all my might, and felt the hot tears escaping from my heavy eyelids. The cold brisk air took a hold of me, showing me the thickness of my breath. I stood outside the giant glass doors for a few minutes, shivering in the overwhelming pain that I couldn’t absorb. My heartbeat coming to a pace as slow and as quiet as a peacefull death. I began to make my way back home, feeling more alone than ever.

As I stood in my bathroom overlooking the sink, I couldn’t help but feel the urge to desperately look at a mirror. As a part of the set rules created by my society, I was forbidden to look at any mirror I came across, as it was considered an egoistic display of behavior. For once, after all these years of being alive, I wanted to see why others thought of my appearance the way they did. Was I really that ugly? I was told that the shape and the contents of my face prohibited anyone from continuing to lead a happy life. Was that true? It must be, or else why would one make such comments just to simply lower one’s interpretation of himself? I was ugly, and I had no other choice but to accept it.

The next day I once again went to work knowing that I would be ridiculed; however I realized that it was better than not going at all. As I resumed my duty back at my machine I could hear the distant whispers surrounding me, as if enclosing me into a tight space. I decided to stay focused on my task, rather than become intoxicated with the criticism being said about me. I placed my fingers against the buttons, as a measure of security in case of another mishap. Besides the noise of the machines, and the silent words begging to be said off the workers tongues, the day was a quiet one. My back ached, longing for a massage, and my hands cramped, due to the grip I had on the machine. I walked home in my black clothing, anxious for the moment I could take off my clothes and take a long hot shower.

I sat on my bed, gazing at the TV as I watched the same show for the 5th time in a row that week. It was 10 pm and my eyelids were forcefully closing on me, pressuring me to fall asleep. My hand slid towards the remote control and I pressed my last button for the day, allowing myself to release all my stress.

The next day I started off for work a few hours earlier. I decided to practice my skills before anyone had the chance to make fun of me. As I continued on my regular path, I noticed that it had been closed off because of the construction the workers were conducting. I came upon a new route as a result. As I walked into the factory I noticed man standing at my station.

“Hi…can I help you?” I asked curiously.

“No. Sorry for invading your personal area, I was just observing all the machines, and they all seem alike.”

“Oh! Surely mine is different. I have trouble starting it every morning and the rest of the workers get along just fine. I’m positive that mine has some sort of difference.”

“Well you’re mistaken because just like the products these machines make, they are also clones of each other.”

“I see.”

The man walked away with his head down, as if he had just shared some heart-breaking news with me. Confusedly, I returned back to my position and took up the task of starting the

machine. As I began to lift the lever, I noticed a bolt missing from a part of the machine and decided to go upstairs and look for another one. Wandering up the stairs, I noticed a dimly lit room, almost secluded from the rest of the world. I hesitantly took a few steps towards it, noticing the creaks created by my footsteps. I peeked around and saw the unimaginable in the center of the room; there was a mirror standing against a black table.

I walked my way through the empty room and sat upon a chair closely intact with the mirror. As fearful as I was, I opened my eyes, and instead of seeing just myself, I saw an irrelevant man surrounded by an enclosing grasp of society.

Who..?

I am the one who creates faint chaos inside your mind at 3am.

I am the one who throws tears at your pillow as day’s colour fades.

I am the one who dances behind you in the reflections.

What…?

I am the one bloats your mind with ambition.

I am the one that causes your crumbling as the water seeps down the drain.

I am the one that cracks your skin with the smeared shards upon the floor.

Where…?

I am the one that resides within your heart.

 

 

I am the one that you feel breathing at the nape of your neck.
I am the that you envision everywhere; omnipresent

I am the one that you seek to find every second…, minute…, hour

When…?

I am the one that intrudes your thoughts, breaking down the barriers of ignorance.

I am the one that haunts your mind and soul in the precedence of all the labels.

I am the one that moves you at 6am, providing you the energy to fight.

Why…?

I am a reminder.

I am the past.

I am the future.

I am forever there – but you just blame it on the forgetting, you blame it on the time.

The Colour Purple – Alice Walker (304 pages)

Although the overall book is quite disturbing, I would say it was well written. This book is about the journey of women who are joined together by their love for each other, the men who abuse them, and the children they care for. The book was also later turned into a musical.

Rating: 3/5

 

The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett ( 375 pages) 

One of my favourite all time classic novels. I enjoyed the suspense and twists this novel had. Furthermore, I enjoyed how the twists and suspense in this novel did not only want to keep the reader reading, but it added a deeper meaning to the story.

Rating: 4/5

 

Bridget Jones’s Diary – Helen Feilding (288 pages)

I personally found this novel fun to read. I enjoyed how it was written in a diary format and the humour that was used throughout the story. It is a simple fun read type of novel.

Rating: 3.5/5

Total number of pages: 967

Number of pages per day: 32

Goals:

I met my last goal, which was to read more books, by taking out specific time that was just dedicated to reading. I also googled the genre of books I enjoy to read and made a list to ensure that I actually read those books.

My next goal is to read different genres. I usually end up reading mystery or fiction; however, I would like to read more of poetry and maybe even drama. I would complete this goal by asking around what books are enjoyable to read in that genre and make a list. That way I will for sure read them.

 

Distracting yourself is necessary. It is necessary to indulge in things; distract yourself from everyone around you. Because it is better to overwhelm yourself with superficial items then to be overwhelmed with reality. There is too much emotion in reality. That is something you do not want to be overwhelmed with. The real problem is not being in control. I mean not being able to control your emotions. See this is a problem because what you feel affects everything you do. But how do we stay in control if the thing that is controlling us cannot be controlled? All I can remember is the constant desire for things to go back to normal. Do you ever wonder how much time we waste trying to fix things we simply cannot fix? Such a waste of time. Now tell me, who in their right mind would want to feel all those feelings? Who would want to feel the hurt, pain, and regret. Do not get me wrong. I am not a robot just yet- I still have emotions. However, I find it easier to ignore them. To dismiss them. And in order to do that, I must distract myself.

From the outside, we all look put together. Well rounded, good at everything, and lucky even. But is that really how we feel? As humans we fear to face failure, rejection, embarrassment. We refuse to be vulnerable. But to be vulnerable is to be human. Now this is where the problem arises. Sometimes it is too much. Sometimes the emotions come flooding out and we are not put together. Despite of all our efforts, we simply cannot do it. It’s a vicious cycle. It’s not a phase. And you admit it. You admit you’re ignoring how you feel. The first step of solving a problem is admitting you have a problem, right? Wrong. You never really come out of things like this. It is a way of life. Maybe the basis of it all is confidence. Self worth. And genuine happiness. Because are we ever  truly confident? Are we ever really content? Or kind to yourself? We cannot get out. So we must distract ourself.

The Help – Kathryn Stockett (464 pages)

An amazing book about three extraordinary women who take one extraordinary step. It is a beautiful written historical novel written about three african- american maids who work in white households. It is a book I enjoyed reading because it has a deep meaning and uses humour and hope to describe the journey of these three women.

Rating: 4.5/5

 

Pride and Prejudice – Jane Austen (279 pages)

A beautifully written novel that centers around the themes  of money, marriage education, and gender roles, specifically women, in the British Regency. This is a book I would recommend to read.

Rating: 4/5

 

Total number of pages: 743 pages

Number of pages per day: 25 pages

Goals:

I would like to increase the numbers of book I read throughout the month. Because February and March were busy months, I was not able to read as many books as I would have liked. To reach this goal I will prioritize my work and be sure to set aside time that will just be to read.

 Denial, anger, bargaining , depression and acceptance. The five stages of grieving. It looks different on everyone: however, in time everyone will go through it. It is the one thing we all have in common. We do not only face these five stages after facing a catastrophic loss or death of loved one. But instead we experience these five stages with life, change, even when we feel dead on the inside. 

The first stage: Denial. Denial because the pain is overwhelming. Because the pain we are feeling is something we would rather not feel. Because the loss is so unthinkable, we cannot image it ever happening to us.

Then comes the second stage: Anger. We start to become angry with everything around us. Angry with those who are able to survive; who have the courage to face it. Angry with ourselves because we cannot not feel anything else and we do not have the strength to fight.

Then we bargain. We offer everything we have with pleading and begging. Offer out souls in exchange to feel normal; happiness.

When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression. We fall into depression, despair, until we finally have to accept that we have done everything we can. We let go. We let go and move into acceptance. 

Acceptance. The stage where you just accept the pain. Accept that this is how life is and we have no power to change it. Accepting that this is not going to be the last time we feel this way. Knowing that the minute we pass this pain, it starts all over again and always, every time, it will take our breath away.

We wonder why it hurts so much sometimes, has to hurt so bad that we feel like we are suffocating. The thing is everything changes on a dime. Knowing that is the key to survival. When it hurts so much you cannot breathe; that is how your survive. We cannot control grieve; nor can we control the pain. If you ask me the best thing we can do it just let it happen. Do not try to fight the pain, just feel it.

There are five stages to grieving. There will always be five. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance.

Britain has just been placed under its highest level of alert this Tuesday following a night bombing at Ariana Grande’s concert.

Leaving 22 dead, with many more injured, this is the third time in the history of the nation that it has been raised to a threat level of critical, with signs of imminent dangers still lurking.

Officials unsure about whether this bombing was simply an individual act of terror, or whether it may be linked to an entire network; law enforcement officers work in order to regain stability and to ensure the safety of their citizens.

Since the bombing on Monday evening, the bomber has been identified to be Salman Abedi, he whom also died in the attack. As man born in Manchester, and of Libyan descent, his peers and close friends would characterize him as “normal” and “friendly”, but to the intelligence agency he was nothing more than a person of interest.

To our shocking knowledge, the Islamic state terror group has claimed responsibility for the attack through messages posted online.

As part of the polices ongoing investigation, two properties have been raided and they have also carried out a controlled explosion at the site of another, in relations to Monday’s horrific attacks. Additionally, one arrest has been made in Chorlton, with connections to the bomber.

As the state continues to remain under imminent danger and worry, Prime Minister Theresa May extends her prayers and thoughts to both the victims and their families.

Gone Girl – Gillian Flynn (432 pages)

A beautifully written thriller genre novel. This novel explores the psychological aspect of a woman and a man who are  married  and who have been through the challenges of marriage.

Rating: 4/5

Black Ice – Becca Fitzpatrick (366 pages)

Becca Fitzpatrick is one of my favourite authors. I would recommend this book to those individuals who enjoy dark fantasies that keeps you on the edge of your seat.

Rating: 4/5

A Thousand Splendid Suns – Khaled Hosseini (384 pages)

This novel centres around characters who endure many challenges through their life. Khaled Hosseini explores the idea that despite of the challenges one may face in their life, life will turn out okay and one will be okay.

Total number of pages: 1182 pages

Number of pages read per day: 15 pages

They say you are a woman. Because you are as fragile as a glass to them, they say be careful, you might break at any given moment. The curves of your body and the sun within your smile is only what matters. What matters are the curves in our body, the sparkle in our eyes, and the elegance that is shown in our stroll. Please, do not try to disagree. I am a women, I would know.

As we leave our house and walk down the street, we can feel the glares that pierce at the back of our heads. We can hear the remarks of how we look or what we are wearing. We can even see the judgment in your eyes. We are not respected. We are not considered as equals. Instead we women are told to act a certain way, look a certain way, and even think a certain way. Yes we are women; however, we are not the women you want us to be.We will never be the woman you want us to be. 

Your opinions do not bother us. What boggles me is how underestimated us simply because we are women. We will not apologize because we are not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size. Yes, woman are pretty but oh we are so much more than that. We are resilient, strong, intelligent and extraordinary. We have the potential to stand on our two feet, alone if we have to.   We are not afraid to voice our opinions around others who are superior  than us. We will one day win the noble prize and go give a TED talk about the discoveries that has had a great contribution to the world.  We will be referred to as fierce and bold, not fragile and weak. We will fight for our rights and will  not settle for anything less than what we deserve. We will be known for our talents and accomplishments, not for the swing in our waist. We will inspire and lead because we will teaches other woman how much power they truly posses. We will teach that the beauty will come from the intelligence us women possess, not from the curves of my body. We will fight till my last breath to be phenomenal, to be extraordinary. We do not need your approval. Nor do we need your support. We are women. However, we will never be the women you want us to be. We will be the women we dream to be.

 

I am a girl who people either love or hate, there is no in between.

I am a girl who many do not understand because my ways  do not make sense to them.

I am a girl who can be fierce and bold, but I am also a girl who can be shy and distant.

I am a girl who cannot take the easy way. I am a girl who enjoys complex and complicated things.

I am a girl who comes off as an extrovert and not afraid to speak her mind; however, I am a girl who listens more than she speaks.

I am a girl
who barely knows her way and feels lost; however, I am okay with it because I am in no rush to find my way.

I am a girl who has always imagined life as what it could be and what it can be, with patience and kindness, working hard to accomplish this each and everyday.

I am a girl who is always working to be a better person than I was yesterday and to make tomorrow greater than yesterday.

I am a girl who believes we have the power to bring a positive change and empower others to achieve greatness.

I am a girl who believes that if we can do it, it is our responsibility to do it.

I am a girl who tries to be the light at the end of the tunnel for those who are struggling to make it through. Although, I cannot be the pillar for everyone at times, I  am a girl who will never go down without a fight.

I am a girl who desires to come up with innovative ideas that will leave legacy.

I am a girl who has her secrets and has dreams from when she was a little girl. Simple fantasies that were created by 7 year old me, is now a project in making.

I am a girl who is a stress monkey and desires perfection. I cannot settle until I have achieved whatever perfection might be.

I am a girl who is trying to make amends with the not so perfect world.