I am a pondering soul who is hopeless about her thoughts if those can ever have a good end any day. Thoughts have created hills and waves in my little mind. There is a whole world in my head though the head is out of storage.
For example, thinking all day long about Geet just after I watched Jab We Met. My obsession is felt to cross the limit when I ask Google "Bhatinda or Delhi- which place can make one be more like Geet- the coolest, simplest girl ever?" Her free style catches my eyes while accepting how cringe she is.
Again it is me when I am saying- I am in love with Nira from The Fallen Leaf. She is the definition of the beauty of the fallen leaf. Her bravery is of another level but the experiences she shared about life and death are the reason to fall for her. I used to like her so much that I thought after Titanic this series is the one to deserve an Oscar.
The point is the same me declaring two wholly different characters as perfect. Now this confusion invites a question-"Do I believe perfection is something specific?' Specific is really respected word in my dictionary but here it sounds cruel. I do not care whatever the answer is because perfection and me are different existences from different worlds. Suddenly a twist has come and that is Children of Heaven which widened my eyes and I wondered if the past two works can ever beat it.
Is it me evolving or what? Another example of observing myself:
Jumping into prayer and completing it as fast as possible as if the world is calling me out and my absence is going to ruin the world. On the other hand, I require myself to feel the meaning of each word I am uttering, especially while performing prayers. But I am not ready to train the required muscle in this case. This realization comes from the pauses I take sometimes.
My urge to be as polite as Shizuka has turned into the urge of being me, just simply myself, the basic me at any situation, in front of any type of person. There is a huge difference but the gap between these phases is not only time but also something which is not realized. This confession proves I did not count that.
In Titanic movie, Mr. Dawson described the aura of counting. That touched my heart. Realizing my gratitude towards pauses or myself or others really depends on counting. How many times I have made the same mistake; how many times I posted that on social media or experienced the pain of failure does not count until any of the lessons is stored within my day. If one of 10 lessons is consciously practiced, this is going to have the power to enhance one's day, one's identity. Only gallery cannot successfully store it, my persona needs to store it.
The food is tempting, delicious- it is not the end of the talk. The next day, my body is going to feel dehydrated and from stomachache, it can lead to have an upset mood eventually.
Hence, nowadays, I try to feel my bites- a form of counting life. We all should try to be a bit more mindful of our gut health as it is the root of how we are going to react or take things the entire day.
So, I have gone from fight of thoughts to importance of pauses and realization to being grateful with the habit of counting moments. This map is the conclusion my thoughts have led me to today.
Amidst the crowd of thoughts, I would like to suggest, "Let us focus on something basic," like clean water. Feeling each quench while drinking clean can take us closer to our root. Gut health and counting are also forms of base in my eyes. I cherish to keep life hydrated or moisturized as long as possible through walks under the sun or the food and water I take in everyday.
What more can we think about life besides bettering it? I am really asking it. This is the question from where my thoughts are going to generate and fight regarding which one is the fittest to be at the top again.
Written by
Name: Nishat Jahan Prianty
Course: ENG101
Section: 02
ID: 24101170
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