1. I know what I want to write, but I can’t give it a name. I know what I feel, but I can’t express it. At 19, I
want to change the world. At 19, I want to make a difference. Have I tried to? Yes. Have I succeeded? It
depends on what your definition of the same is. There is so much to do, so much to undo. So many
things I’m yet to achieve. By merely saying ‘I’, I undid so much I’ve done.
Late nights determine the effectiveness of the day that follows. They determine my mood. They
determine what I’d achieve the following day. Considering what rests on these awfully lonely nights, I
should try my best to maintain my sanity. Do I? No. Do I try? No.
At 19, I’m a proud girl, too proud. Have I made mistakes? Yes. Do I admit them? Depends. Would
admitting these mistakes make life easier for me? Definitely.
What’s the point of all this, you may ask? How different are we from one another, is what I contemplate.
Why did she do this to me? Why doesn’t he understand? Doesn’t this cross our mind, once in a while?
One may prefer tea over coffee, or coffee over a beer; but the purpose of drinking it is the same. To get
through or over something. How does one stand out in this society, how does one make a name for all
to remember? Kill, be killed. Rape or be raped. Make money or steal it. Isn’t this the highlight of the
day? Of everyday? But the fame won’t last long. It’d fade away. Your memory would fade away. Just like
other things. How does one prioritize between the heinous crimes in our society? Why does one
highlight it? Awareness. This, mind you, won’t last any longer than your memory. It’s easy to sit back
and question everything. It’s simple to play the blame game. But how do you undo what needs to be
undone? You take a stand? For how long? You make a difference? To whom? Where does one start
with? Who does one start with? Yourself. Your own self; and everything good will follow.
