Sunday, August 19, 2012

YOU.





In this life, we meet so many people.

There a few who will let you rise. Then there are others who pull you down.

There are some who would want to fly with you but their fears would not let you.

Lastly, there are some who let you go.

You. Have. The. Power. To. Choose. The. Person. You. Want.

You deserve someone who makes you feel better about yourself. Not with manufactured lies but with the sole knowledge that you have a power within, untapped, undiscovered, unknown. That power, when it comes out, it shakes the roots of your existence, it brings together all of your self into one being. 

YOU. 

image source: thisiswhatimean

Thursday, August 2, 2012

I am Conflict.

I, recently started with my Masters program at one of the premier colleges for social work. 

On the very first day of our 9-day orientation program at college, our field director asked us to use this time to introspect upon our decision to choose social work. 

All of us thought, she was being arrogant. That she was wanting us to willfully leave because in her opinion none of us deserved to be here... to be in the field of social work. But, sure we were. Hadn't we prepared for months altogether to get in here? Hadn't we survived the interview sessions where our professors grilled us to our core? 

Sure, we deserve this! We deserve this and more. 

A couple of days before, another professor asked us to define conflict. We all had our own definitions. Some of us believed it to be a clash of ideas, of philosophies. Quite a few believed conflict to be the difference between needs and wants. When wants are more than can be satisfied- boom! there was a conflict in the making. I, for one, didn't have a definition. 

I am like that. I make my opinions later when all has been said and done. 

On the last day of our orientation program, we were taken for field visits- a  very important component of social work. 

There, we were, 96 of us, walking carefully on the mud-bathed roads of a thriving slum.  

It had been raining the day before and it will continue to rain for another couple of days. Flies burst out like shooting stars on a black night. People walked with conscious steps, skipping a puddle or two. Thatched roofs leaked in the merciless rains. Children ran and laughed, nonetheless. 

On another rainy day, as I sit and think about tomorrow, my tomorrow includes what dress I will be wearing, what classes I can bunk or attend, I am warm, protected, and blessed. 

I am blessed with the knowledge that I have a dream that I am working on. I am blessed because I have more than I need. 

But, how is it that we are so comfortable and warm even when it rains outside while for someone else, everything would be similar if not worse? How is it that I get a chance to better my life when someone births and dies without much promise?

I believe, this is conflict. 

If I get a chance, so should everyone else.

Maybe, I am conflict.