Acquaintance With Letters

Identities Stereotyped

Posted in Uncategorized by Sagarika on November 9, 2009

Today the identities of a person are many and several, both socially and professionally. Identity is something from and through which a person is identified. But what consists and is prioritised in our identity is something to give a thought to.

When a child is admitted in a school the parents help the child to learn up his identity. Identity in that phase of life is a mere way through which a child is addressed with or communicated to. This is one of the first steps our mind takes to absorb who we are and where we belong. When the child hears the words that define him he starts to realise that there exists a place for him in the society, in the world he watches pass by him daily. Parents do their duty sincerely but when the shift of responsibility occurs, the child often fails to do it.

Our parents give us name, religion (though they have no control or choice themselves), colour of the skin, sex (again the parents don’t really have a say in this but their chromosomes do) only because this identity gives us a place in the world. Once we’ve acquired that place already isn’t it the duty of the now grown up child to judge and prioritise for himself what consists of his identity? Often we are so caught in the noise of the world that leave alone studying our identity, we become deaf for our inner voice.

Often or as I may so say near to always we judge others and others judge us on the basis of the artificial and superficial identities like sex, colour of the skin and religion. This is because of the fact that what we were taught, we forgot to analyse and prioritise it and resultantly we consider these minor details our main identity.

I don’t say that all of us become nameless and follow ‘no-religion’ or become colourless physically, I just say that what our parents gave us, i.e. name, etc, so as to build a bridge for the world to reach us, communicate with us don’t make it your only and primary identity.

Sometimes people hesitate to say their name only in the fear that somewhere, someone would judge them and allow his prejudices to act against them.

It’s a humble request from a fellow resident of this globe that all of us must and should discover our true and unique self and then only will the world be diverse. We often say that no two people are the same but just consider this, we categorise people with the same religion having the prejudiced (almost) same skin colour, and so won’t the people be the same in that ‘category’? When we categorise people prejudicially on the same podium we often fail to realise the fact that when we categorise we simply are calling them same and not just labelling them.

This categorisation is done with and by all of us, and so how can no two people be same?

But of course they can be the same and are, sadly so in this ‘real’ world!

We all are or rather all our minds’ are shackled to these self-made ‘categories’.

When this notion evolved that no two people are same, I guess it was done by the highest men on Earth since they did not merely do it on the physical or material basis, they did it on the basis of discovering ones’ true self. When this notion is stated, as I see it, it means that the people who have discovered themselves are the ones unique to this world and to each other.

Therefore what I see of the identities of the people around me is nothing more than being stereotyped!

Identity is what one searches in the self within, sets out on for a voyage in the deep sea of our souls.

We must immediately free ourselves of these shackles, these stereotyped identities and go on a quest to discover our beautiful soul.

Constant Fears, Dilemma And Anxiety Of A Woman Writer Just Beginning To Write, Writing Her Final Thoughts Or Maybe Somewhere In Between…

Posted in Uncategorized by Sagarika on November 8, 2009

For her letters floated in air, ideas above that and happiness below words. To create, the happiness felt at the thought of writing filled her with excitement and sometimes nothing more than that and several times it was just another element in the mixture of feelings she had. The words picked their own favourites, ideas chosen the way she thought things should be and excitement because of the idea and structure she foresaw would be created after the words and idea blended.
For her the idea of writing was more delighting than writing itself. She thought the thought process was more important than what comes out in the world with the words and ideas together. Sometimes there was desperation, other times there was emptiness. Desperation was born considering the fact that she gave time to other things knowingly, unknowingly not even being aware and emptiness due to the fact that she could not write more often and as good as she possessed the thoughts should come out on paper.
She thought a lot about the consequences her own self, her family, her country would have to face if she wrote, only wrote professionally.
Herself-because she has to have an earning,
Her family-because even they never said it but she had some responsibilities which were to be fulfilled only by her,
And her nation-because she was in a constant dilemma that if she took up writing or a job related to it or even teaching(which she thought was a continuous process in which telling, writing, learning and reading were being done and had to be done simultaneously).
Though she had enough explanation for the world that even if she did anything of the above she would contribute to the country but that explanation often falls short for her mind and sometimes soul as well. Though no explanation at all is also enough for her heart since her heart wishes to write, to create and be in that world voluntarily and wants to drown in it day in and day out.
If well past these hurdles there comes a discomfort in a less than few writers’ life where age is more than a maturity factor;
Either she is too young for the world to accept her. For the generalised notion and sometimes rightly so is that when young, the thoughts are tender not ready to face the storms of real and adult world but what about her whose thoughts are really ready to face the hell and heaven, whatever comes its way.
Or she is either too discouraged to write or her health is continuously failing her to gather the courage to combine her ideas with her fading words.
Even though all sorts of things attack a lady when she writes, the most difficult ones are the ones that are self created and have to be self-destroyed.
These are only the generalised, common and few problems that crop up before a woman begins to write or while she is. Still what she writes, she manages and not just merely manages but well does so she produces the words from her heart, combined with some logical thinking, of course.