I feel that more than love we need to have the ability to understand the loved ones in our life…we need to stop for a moment and see the other person without our preconceived notions.
I had this thought in my mind for a long time and I wanted to write about it. Recently, my dear friend unknowingly gave voice to my thoughts…and she did it so very beautifully.
What she has written is so true and accurate and apt to my feelings that I thought of sharing it with everyone else through this blog.
Here is what she wrote-
There are so many dimensions to each one of us, and the combination of all these dimensions results in our PERSONALITY. It is not something which can be pre-defined.
On the contrary, it is something which keeps on getting refined with every new day we face in our lives, through our varied experiences.
We all think that ‘Understanding’ is an inherent personality trait we all are born with, that once we reach a particular age and maturity level, we automatically attain the level of understanding we ought to.
But I disagree. Understanding, according to me, is the most difficult as well as the most significant emotion we possess.
More so, it demands a certain level of effort: the effort to put one into the other person’s shoes and think the way he/she does, and not according to your own mind.
Only then would one be able to ‘Understand’ the other person’s perspective. And this equips the individual with another beautiful emotion – Empathy.
This is the kind of Understanding we all demand from people we are close to, people we depend on, people we love, and majority of the times, they let us down.
Only because they think that they know us so well that they don’t even try for a split second to come out of their own selves and use all that they know about us to grasp things from our perspective.
We all have to always remember that nothing in this world comes for free: that for all important things, we have to invest our energies, either mentally, physically or emotionally to attain or retain something or someone in our lives.
I am a pen. I write. I decorate the paper with various styles. Recently I did some cursive work and believe you me it was fantastic. I can write about anything one can and cannot imagine. Mostly I deal with feelings, a heavy range. From love, anger and joy to dark, bizarre and alien. I find myself busy when topics like nature, god, politics and business are discussed.
I have been wondering for some time now about questions. Umpteenth questions come across when I am put to paper. Millions of them and some are very common like, what should I do, why is this happening, why me, how can he/she do this to me, where is god etc. I don’t like questions anymore, not because of the sudden increase in their number but because most are left unanswered. Just imagine how I feel with endless questions staring at my face along with that twisted question mark.
Oh! I have a question now…where are all the answers?
Anyways, my job is not that bad. In reality, I adore my work. Maybe that’s why I know calmness. I have good, light moments; I happily keep a secret a secret; meeting every emotion is in itself a great reward for me; I get to know a whole lot of things, you know science things. What I really-really relish is when I scribble and make faces on the margin of a sheet or the last page of a copy. I get a feeling at that moment of being with someone else, a connection, shared exclusively with me. Like I am in a vacuum with a confused mind or a happy smile or an angry look or a scared soul or a naughty remark and this gives me wings to fly.
Ha! Funny me!
I don’t know when I may dry, on which word, which feeling, so I keep my spirits up almost always as I already said I never know….
When choosing my flower’s colour /
Blindly I pick all – the sun decides /
Which one suits me more.
A storyteller, following the ancient tradition of cave chroniclers, standing in vrikshasana (the tree pose) on a hill top (it is sunny, but windy), breathing in and out stories (relishing it all, but at times overwhelmed), declares animatedly that she will continue to – tell stories, share rare story gems, and connect with the pacy universe while also keeping the website ad-free.
Big thanks to my readers. Stay tuned!
Also, a humble request to the new subscribers to check the spam folder after subscribing. Silly (but necessary) confirmation emails often land there instead of the bright inboxes. Merci!
Chiming Stories (formerly Home Chimes)
P.S – Supporting a storyteller is good for the world’s health (and undoubtedly, for the storyteller’s health as well). Shower some love via Patreon.
Gabbeh, the 1996 film, is a simple tale of a gipsy girl, her clan and the way their life goes on. Unfolding beautifully just like an artist painting a canvas, Gabbeh quietly touches the grand questions.
Godard… Breathless and Alive
A Tribute to Jean-Luc Godard, the Film Philologist who Reinvented Cinema.
Arthdal Chronicles is a South Korean fantasy drama TV series that takes us back to the Bronze Age in a mythical land named Arth, where different human species and tribes struggle to be on the top of the power pyramid.
Yes fly! For walking on the second track is dull and usual, but dreaming high, high, high requires tools. Tools like the right pair of shoes, a chirpy, gritty soul that eats butter-jam dreams, a soul that drinks milky-milky creams.
Universe’s a Disciplined Place
Silver cascade shimmering the night sky, music to the waves and surreal beauty to the eyes, the Moon loves the art of discipline.
It may be difficult to believe for the Moon’s splendour defies time, it stupefies the clock, it follows the path of a dreamer, but how could this be possible if the Moon knew not discipline?