autumn leaf hung on a clothes line.

Do clothes introduce you?

Do clothes introduce you?

Truthfully, we all judge people and this fact cannot be denied. The only difference is how we choose to see others, through the glasses of positivity or through the glasses tinted with negativity or with a complete indifference that has taught us, “Appearance does not matter”. We as humans have an opinion about everyone especially an image of people of a certain occupation, we might have seen it once or not but that “image” is said so many times by others the image gets correlated and forms the stereotype we attach with a certain group of people. Humans are a social animal hence our opinions and images of others are not isolated as well.

Like for instance when one thinks of a politician here in south-east Asian countries automatically an image props up in our mind of an elder pot-bellied, snobbish, corrupt, authoritarian person in a safari suit but I know that to be so far from the truth as I see my father every day. He is everything good that man could ever be. Similarly, we have a set image of teachers, government/IT employees, police officers and the list goes on and on. Basically, we have images of stereotypes for every individual.

For every problem there is a solution, man is inventive by nature and necessity is the mother of inventions. So there were clothes. I wish I could tell you all about the history of clothes but I don’t know however it sure was not worn in the early times for aesthetic reasons rather for protection, safety and survival. Today it serves not just it main and primary function but also as a map of an introduction of our selves to others without even having a single meaningful conversation. Therefore introducing you.

There was a time in everyone’s life when someone else dictated our choices of clothes first parents then came school-guidelines, peer pressure, fashion trends society’s norms and values; etc. at some point in life we were all granted the opportunity to find ourselves in the world of clothes so sometimes with mishaps we learnt to speak for ourselves in the language of clothes. Clothes that we wear help us to combat some of the misconceptions and avoid being typecast. In other words, clothes that we wear function as a tour guide showing our real self to others successfully changing the idea of us from what people think they know of us because of where we come from, how we live and what we do professionally. Clothes give off the crucial introduction to self.

Maybe that is the reason why we don’t give any importance to what we wear when we are alone or with very close friends, family because they already know us, hence there is no trying involved in the relationship. However, the opposite stands true when we feel the need to impress someone before reaching the comfort level. Different images emotions and meaning are attached with a piece of clothing item eg; suits/formal pants/collar shirts all scream professional likewise some clothes are inappropriate for some occasions while it is exactly what is needed for some other occasion. We also attach “personally” some sentiments with some item of clothing like I  am always partial to clothes having stripes of blue and I cannot see myself ever wearing distressed jeans  both have images I have associated with them blue stripes makes me remember schooldays and was a happy time in my life, distressed clothes my mind attaches with poverty, beggars and homelessness.

Certain clothes make us very happy, they speak of values that we as individuals want and find attractive hence we are drawn towards them, we are all latching on to the concept that, “clothes embody values”. We are unknowingly but strategically showing to the world as well as reminding ourselves of who we are through the clothes that we wear. Our wardrobe is in fact lines of our autobiography. Consequently, to answer do clothes introduce you? Yes, clothes introduce us all.

Caged but free.

  A couple weeks ago when the weather was not this hot we, my family and I had the opportunity to visit Jamunkhadi Simsar; a community’s effort towards forest area and wetland conservation at the same time also uplifting the community economically.

road car trees on side

On the way

caged_but_free_img_20170802_1441251314041429.jpg

Reached

bridge across the huge lake

Suspension or hanging bridge

deer area

Deer area .

deer area.

deer area.

Jamunkhadi-Jhapa Ariel Drone footage

There were many animals some were relatively more free than others in terms of area they could move around freely in but they were all caged. it cannot be denied we had a nice time there. On the way back, however, I kept remembering lines from the poem;

“Caged Bird”
~Maya Angelou~

A free bird leaps
on the back of the wind
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wing
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn bright lawn
and he names the sky his own

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

emoji brain emoticons human emotions cerebrum mind expression faces

on and off topic

More often than not I have a concrete outlook of what I want, armed with the rough draft in my notebook that I wrote before I sit in front of my laptop to type. The rough draft makes sure I don’t stray from my idea just work to make it better with every word I add or subtract. However for a couple of weeks, I get up with an aim to write but all I end up doing is staring at my open notebook and empty, blank screen of my laptop.

Which I have come to know is very harmful to the personal well-being and for the thing called pride. Going off topic, a very important person of my life told me and I agree fully that pride is a positive emotion whereas jealousy and vanity are negatives and for sure should always be kept far. Doing nothing is bad but being made aware every second by the blank word document is worse. A point comes when despite doing everything to get motivated you can’t seem to do the task you should be doing for your own self. When I feel disheartened I begin to question my ability which is not a good sign because I would be sadder and the cycle will continue on and on. I have a list of topics I would like to write on however words have failed me recently.
Again off topic, I have a small room 11*6 feet when I am uncertain or disturbed, with music playing; I

  1. reorganize my room
  2. reorganize my almari (wardrobe )
  3. refashion my clothes
  4. make art and crafts.

I just need to do one of the above like by reorganizing my room I somehow reorganize my haphazard thoughts. What do you do to help the mental or emotional aspect of yourself??? Just doing one of the above has always been enough to stabilize and push my thoughts back on track and break through the wall of procrastination but not this time everything is done yet I can’t seem to perform my day the way I want sometimes I just think I am lazy then again I quickly dismiss that stupid negative thought.
Writing is very important for me I cannot emphasize on this point enough. It is not just as a way of self-expression for me but my identity, a source of pride and happiness for my family after I became disabled my life took a completely different path and writing for me became that shining pearl in the setting sun, one was never enough.
Again going off topic but does this writing have any topic, thank you for reading this nonsense as I thought just now to dump all my all my clothes from my almari and rearrange it again.. maybe I’ll invent a new me.

girl coverd in color staring blankly ahead

The Queer journey of life

 

Life was simple then. There was no need to be happy or sad after all we were all just kids. Friendship knew no boundaries – rich, poor, caste, colour or disabilities. A mere rupee was not just a rupee but the cause of smiles worth millions. A building or a tree was just not what it seemed or intended for, maybe it was a haunted castle, a witch or an unconquerable mountain everything depended on how vast the imagination was. A rustle of the leaf could be the beginning of invention of horrific stories and proven facts would be mostly denied on a whim. Everything the grownups did was weird for they were stuck up weirdoes. Everything and every job were awesome, all was easy and attainable. There was no care; life was easy, fun for we were kids then unknown to what the future brings. Continue reading

Hans Boodt, mannequin,wall,faces,quote"people with disability are not props for your philanthropic posts"

People with disability, are not props for our “philanthropic posts’’

 

When I became “disabled” due to an illness after proper 20yrs of living a life of privilege ability my life and not just my life alone but the life of my family changed too. While I am on the very difficult path of self-acceptance, my father is not okay neither do I think he will ever be after his daughter’s life took a complete 360°turn.

In the early years of my disability I decided to volunteer in an organization that houses people like me, the only organization here that takes care of their needs and provides training and education but the stark difference is that they are worse than me physically, mentally, emotionally and economically; this being the only life they have known. Continue reading

graffiti,wall,old-man, child, girl,quote "on his blindness"

Charmer of Words

 The one beauty of writing is rather than painting a full picture with words and telling a tale it lets the Reader imagine. There is always room to add and subtract for now the reins of interpretation is no longer remain in the hands of the author.

  With each new reader it becomes more than a beautiful  just a combination of words or just another story the author intends to tell but with each reader it takes a different form, it tells a new story; story said not just by the words but by the emotion of the unwritten words which just suggests their presence.

 Maybe that’s why written words never grow’s old; it only begins to tell a new story. Continue reading

white rose and two books

Rose a story

In life we meet many people hear their very different stories while doing so unknowingly we become a passive yet a very active character in their story. Some stories are complete and come with a moral; some are patiently helping other stories to be complete or are just as many things life incomplete.

My name is Rose and this is my story, one of my many stories of life. I think it was in my destiny to wither when my parents named me Rose, a flower of so many colors and character nevertheless a very delicate and fragile flower. Continue reading

of promise and posts

When I began writing here I promised myself I will write and post once every week but the past couple of months I haven’t upheld my own word. I wouldn’t be telling a lie if the reason asked for the late post would be one of the following. 

  • There were guests in my house so I pretty busy. 
  • I had to get a lot of documentation ready so it was Search, search and more search.

(A person can have happy delusion…right)
Continue reading

can’t cook, won’t cook

Let me tell you about me when hungry I don’t like cooking I just raid the fridge and eat whatever I find bread, some salad, cheese, chocolates anything and if there is nothing I would rather go to the store to buy chips.

I wish I could cook… but…“I don’t know how to cook” but I am learning to sincerely, ask youtube, my trusty instructor, however only if and when I am in the mood to. Continue reading

FIRST RAIN

Dark clouds took over the clear blue sky, with every passing second it became darker.

But the attention-grabbing factor were the winds that began to sweep up the dust that lay everywhere in cracks on walls, in between leaves of trees, among the flower petals, on inaccessible  tin roofs, on  paved roads; invading every little space available and into the rooms if one was too late to close the windows. All humans scurried indoors. Looked like a huge vacuum cleaner had been switched on by gods.

In a couple of hours, the Rain began. Continue reading

The Hiprocacy of judgement

“But you don’t look disabled.”

Both baba and I stared with an apparent look of surprise, disbelief, and sadness at him I was shocked with loss of words and baba was quiet too. Some people think saying nothing is a sign of approval, he did the mistake too as he launched into the topic of “well-meaning” advice as I controlled my angry tears from falling. Continue reading

http://www.theindependentbd.com/assets/news_images/saraswati-puja.gif

Saraswati Puja and making friends

Will you be my friend? Let’s play together or else saying can I share your toys; I gather that’s how you make friends as a child I never had to do it consciously because no introduction or formality was required of “us” living in the paradox of insider and outsider. Though the friendship of such kind never existed beyond that of playmates for which I am entirely to blame. Nonetheless, I never had a shortage of friends. Continue reading

i belive but do you?

 

I believe in Fairy-tales, on fairies, on magic on monsters………………….

I am naive you may think, not accepting reality. I think so too! how dare I believe in something totally spun out of imagination. They for sure are children stories and I am an adult, how ridiculous would it be if a twenty-year-old told you they still believe in Santa wholeheartedly despite knowing the truth since he was 3 yrs old. Continue reading

imaginary “real” friends

 

When I held it in hands I could not believe it nor could the fuzzy, funny feeling in the pit of the stomach stop and as I opened it a familiar air engulfed me …a feeling of warmth tugged my heart in this brutal winter air. Long-lost friends met again, going together on an old route of laughter. Continue reading

#my story

 

There are numerous benefits of education and equally many critics exist too but that’s the discussion I will gladly leave out today. Today I will only acknowledge the good of education, especially in my context. At the time I fell ill and realized I had now to live with a disability; I had only completed 12 Std and was preparing for the medical entrance examination. My confidence, self-esteem, self-image was all time low. Continue reading

Every dog has its day

In Nepal, the festival of light also known as Diwali is called Tihar. Similar to other Diwali observances, lamps are lit at night during Tihar, but it also has its observances that make our’s so unique. The festival of lights celebrates the triumph of light over darkness, of knowledge over ignorance, and the dissolution of barriers that separate humans from the authentic experience of the world. Nepalese Hinduism is unique in dedicating the second day of Tihar, Kukur Tihar, to the worship of dogs. Continue reading