Some of us are faces. Some, are voices. Faces are beautiful. Voices, profound.
Some days I wake up feeling a hollow within myself. My purposelessness resonates so loud within me that I feel very trashed. I fool myself with dress up, make up, cheer up. Usually ending up still the same, if not worse. Seeking meaning to the day, to life, just makes the echo of uselessness louder. That is because – I am a face.
Then, I see people around, a voice. Their pictures may not be the best, sometimes more bad hair days than the rest, but just being of purpose makes them so loud, so important.
I recently watched an acid attack survivor speak. I looked at myself in the mirror. And cried. Here,I was listening to a voice of strength and my stare bore through my being. I was appalled at how someone could be so brave, so alive without the confidence of a face. I cant believe the magnitude of conviction it took to come tete a tete with death and still allow life win. In her, I saw a celebrity. Someone, who in its truest sense celebrated being alive. And then I thought about all the people in the world who don’t cling on to their faces to be heard.
I kept asking myself, what would I be doing if I didn’t have a face that would do the talking for me? Sometimes, I feel so strongly about my appearance that I often forget to listen to the little voice nudging at me from within.
Sometimes I think of the things I do right in a day. To list that out,
1.Wake up. Drink a glass of lukewarm water with lime and honey. Cleanses the system.
2.Never skip breakfast. Harms the peaceful metabolism of the body.
3.Yoga. Improves physical and mental health.( Lets be honest, tones the body.)
4. Eat every two hours. Perfect schedule for the right metabolism.
5. Eat healthy.
6. Look nice.
And then I know most of the other things I do in a day revolves around this illusion of a schedule I have drafted around my health and wellbeing. Me, the parent. Me, the wife. Me, the writer are crucial elements but are things I do with varying intensities through the day.
I teach myself everyday now, to solemnly take this vow, if I can be more a voice and less a face, willingly make that choice, not just my day, my within will be at more peace.
Sometimes the voice can be as small as planting a seed and watching it sprout. Other days let it be cooking a fancy meal from scratch. Teach a child. Talk to a friend and cheer her up. Something that didn’t always have to revolve around I, me and myself. And then I convinced myself that if small acts can cause such ripples, what it must feel like once the power of the voice got louder and louder.
I want to tell each of you today because I believe I am not the only one who is lost on some days. We list down all of those things that we are not – No job, no friends, no money, no children, no meaning. Our therapy lies in teaching our face to shut up and awaken that voice that has after a lot of attempt, just been swept into silence. There lies a voice within each of us. Just that some of us are way too distracted by the face to pay heed.
Promise to teach yourself to look up to stronger people,in times of desperation not necessarily more aesthetically pleasing. Even though I felt on the outside more prettier than she did, it only made me smaller in front of the magnitude of her voice. When I heard her speak I thought to myself what in my life is as hard as sleeping in a pool of pus and being so helpless to continue lying down there without being able to clean? What is as painful as watching a line of ants eat onto the skin and not being able to do anything about it ? Was anything more nauseous than living through months of the distasteful stench of burnt skin? And then I realized, it is her voice that gave her the life she clung to when the face was long scarred. If at all you need something that defines a purpose in your life, let it be that voice, not the face.
Because if at all you look around you, you will know that all those who really matter to you, around you are mesmerized by the sound they hear from within you than the perfection they see through their eyes.
We each have just one life. Strictly and specifically numbered. It is all the time that we have to make it our fairytale. To live that fairytale. To make do with the best we have. To be loud enough that tomorrow someone takes the effort to narrate it out to someone else. for You and I know, faces just fade off, voices linger through generations.