womanhood

a work in progress

Zero Fucks

I always used to read criticism around famous people.

Thinking, “well it’s part of the job”.

It comes with the territory.

Till I was on the receiving end.

I remember crying down the phone to V.

Saying, “if this is how it’s going to be, I don’t want to be in it”.

Ready to give up the game.

Give up Kholo.

Give up being me.

It was a sleepless night.

I never had sleepless nights.

I realised.

I cared.

Of what people thought of me.

Of goodwill.

Of good opinions.

The shame burnt upon my cheeks.

When a friend sent me a sympathy message.

My ego soared in self defence.

And it took time.

Tears. Hugs. Time.

I remember just wanting the biggest of hugs from Aru.

Because for once in my life.

I knew what his innocence meant.

It meant someone who didn’t care.

Didn’t know.

To whom it simply didn’t matter.

Whether I was falling, or getting up, or soaring.

It just didn’t matter.

And I cradled him like my life depended on it.

Because I needed that.

And now.

Looking back.

I realise.

I can never. Ever. Have the goodwill of everyone.

I’ve seen people for their truer shades.

There were those who stepped in for the hugest of cuddles.

And those that couldn’t help themselves and pin pricked the wounds.

And I know.

That it doesn’t matter.

It simply.

Doesn’t matter.

So we simply.

Dust off the dirt.

Pick ourselves up.

And continue on,

As we meant to go.

X

K

 

(July, 2018)

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2 Comments

  1. Sneha

    Honestly, I was about to give my bucks to a psychologist for this exact advise and exact rewording of my thoughts had i not opened my email this morning! Thank you K.

    • karishma

      Total pleasure. But if the feels come back, make sure you see the pyschologist 😉

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