Because sometimes it is all about memories

I could see my feet getting sun kissed; I saw my skin revealing darker shades of my insecure relationship. I went more subtle and grinning, I went more irritating. He has already started ignoring me by directly liking other’s picture that irritates me more than it makes me angry.

I saw myself in the mirror, I could not recognize myself, and I interrogated myself, more than thrice “is this me? But my picture in the social network speaks of something else”, I am afraid to greet people in real and that is why online chatting seems best way for me to relocate my happiness. I am afraid to make friends because I know they will judge me, they will laugh at me, because I think I have gained some weight in the process of loving someone else, in the process of finding out what will make him happy and what will make him feel secured with me, I did everything I wanted him to do for me, I imagined him doing everything for me, I felt him doing everything that I did for him, I loved him and I assumed he loved me too, he loved it when I insulted myself to make him feel good.

I forgot myself, my requirements and I have forgotten to take care of myself.

Was not that unfair to me?

That was, yet I probably had no way around, I wanted him so badly that I did not even bothered to smile back in real, I smiled for my selfies(term that is use to describe self taken pictures making weird faces and expressions) and I blushed for them again, I loved my half passport size edited fair looking, clear skin and slim tracks.

I looked beautiful, I look beautiful on them. I relocated myself every time I saw mirror and then checked my profile picture, they were distinctive.

They did not match, and I was afraid that if someone out of my virtual life would ever find me in the version of sizes I am holding in my belly, thighs and hands, it is no more a happy land over there too.

Today I saw a woman, most beautiful, happy, blemishing with her few beautiful admirer (pimples) on skin and yet so mature to wear those air tight dresses flaunting her curvy hips, she was beautiful, because she believed that she was, she was not giving up anymore with the thing that she was not perfect because she was, everyone among us are.

Then what is that one single feeling of guilt that holds us back ‘the vision’, one imaginable act inside our head when we try to compare ourselves with someone more flaunting, but reality is always beautiful.

We never know how beautiful we are unless we push ourselves to a period where we no more feel so.

I decided, there would be no way I was going to demoralize my natural beauty, there was nothing wrong with my body, color and shape, they were small in-corrected fragments and measurements in my mind, I just have to accept them and know that I am perfect in my own divine self.

The world always saw me the way I saw myself, that was the difference.

I promised myself, I would never incorporate with myself, because I am beautiful, I am amazing, I have bouncy beautiful hairs, and my skin is beautiful and flaunting.

When I smell the essence of India, I remember my grand mom, her clear & flawless skin and her beautiful hairs, she never used chemicals and shampoo yet she had beautiful, long, thick, and luxury hairs.

She used Vicco(VICCO Turmeric Cream), my mom used it, my aunties and everybody I knew then, used it, they used it because they felt more grounded, more humble with their life with it because it always reminded them of someone who used it, the love they had for them, it is not just a product for few, it is like having memories in a packet.

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