Beauty standards; are we to blame?

 

When people knew that I had joined a pageant, I got a lot of appreciations and “you’ll surely win” kind of statements but along with that I also herd, “I never thought you’d do a pageant” or “oh! This is something different.”

Yeah, typically we assume pageants to be for the girls who are really into fashion and modelling. But I had a totally different background. Moreover, I was an advocate of body confidence and ran free being me sessions with children and taught them how fashion industry is creating stereotypes about beauty. So, pageant was out of a box kind of thing for me.

I was always interested in pageants. I loved to watch pageants as a child. Always used to get amazed at how the girls carried themselves so confidently on the stage. But, it never occurred to me that I’d be a part of one.

It was during my +2 days, when one of my friends, Anusha talked me into joining a pageant. It was then when I considered, “Maybe I should take part in one someday.”

But when I looked into some of the applications, I WAS DISAPPOINTED!!

beauty-graphIn order to take part in the contest, you needed to meet some criteria. Criteria not as in the age criteria or the educational criteria but the “beauty criteria.”

It’s not that I didn’t fit into the criteria.  But somehow somewhere I didn’t feel right to take part and promote a platform which promotes the standards on beauty.

C’mon, every girl should have right to take part in any contests she wishes to and express herself. No limits of her beauty should be a barrier.

One of the many reasons I joined Miss Newa is because it has “no beauty criteria.” This line drew my attention to the contest.

And after going through 2 months of training and finally being able to win the crown, I can say that at last what really matters is how you carry yourselves, what really matters is your smartness and your confidence. Obviously, your physical appearances also play a part but its not only about that.

When I was traveling abroad, I used to get complements on my Aryan features and even got asked if was a model. When I said no, they said you should consider being a model, maybe like a face model. I used to laugh it off and say, “Okay I’ll keep that in the possibilities. But what’s wrong with my body?” And then I smirked and thought by myself, “Oh yeah I don’t fit into the stereotypical skinny divas and I don’t have that Wow 5’10” height.”

See here is the thing, knowingly or unknowingly we are creating the beauty standards and these things like a boomerang are hitting us right back.

Few weeks ago, I came to know that a girl child didn’t want to fill out a form for a children’s pageant because she thought she wasn’t pretty enough to get past the audition round.

dove-door-ad.0.0 (1)Talking about this on a broader perspective, on an experiment done by Dove, women were given two choices of doors to enter the building, one had “beautiful” sign on it and the other had “average” sign. And not to my utter surprise most women chose the “average” door.

We are the ones limiting and undervaluing our own beauty based on the comparisons we do with the magazine cover girls who have went through months of grooming, hours of make up and skills of air brushing.

We live in a society in which we judge and compare each other by our outer appearances. We blame society for that but in the meantime aren’t we the society?

 


XOXO,

Rizasa ❤

 

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Bride at Eleven.

If I were asked, “What is one thing you’d change and experience in the past, if you had the superpower to do so?”

I’d probably answer, “Nothing. I’m happy with whatever happened in life, happy moments taught me to appreciate life and sad experiences taught me to value life.”

But deep down, I know and you know it too, if given a chance we wouldn’t hesitate to go back in time and make it all right, fix the broken pieces, mend things and make a perfect future for ourselves.

Well in my case, I will always reproach not having the experience of “gupha” in life.

I remember visiting my sisters during their gupha and I remember how badly I wanted to do the traditional “bara chonegu.”

But my mother wanted me to go to bihar.

Yeah bihars are shortcuts and easy way out in everyone’s busy schedule but I don’t know I’ve always felt like I have been deprived of enjoying my cultural right. (No offence to anyone.)

But no worries, I’m a fantasy girl, always loved to live in fantasies.

I’m really sorry if I exaggerated something or missed out anything in this article. As this is NOT MY STORY. Its just me fantasizing about my missed life event.


 

Being born in a culturally rich Newar community of Nepal, I was exposed to numerous rituals and tradition, rules and regulations from an early stage of life.

Nine years ago, when I was merely enjoying the winter vacation of my sixth grade, I was taken to a priest to get an auspicious date to “MARRY THE SUN”. Yes! It may sound implausible in the scientific world but Newar girls should marry the sun before they reach puberty. This ceremony is called “gufa tehegu” or “bara chonegu” in which they are kept in darkness away from the sunlight and any male contact for 12 days.

I was particularly nervous and extremely worried for the next 12 marked days of my life. The thought of being locked inside the four walls of the room predominantly scared me as I was outgoing and loved to visit different places than sit idly. But the 12 days didn’t turn out as I had imagined. It was indeed more exciting, and I learned a whole lot of things that I couldn’t have learnt otherwise. I was taught the basics of life, to do cleanings, to cook, to do make-up and wear different cultural outfits and ornaments. Overall, I was taught to be independent.

Every passing days were becoming more interesting and appealing as I was exposed to the cultures of our society and various norms and traditions. My relatives visited who spoke to me of how my body will now change and transform into woman, how I wasn’t a child anymore and how I should behave. I was given education about virtual world, sex, and mensuration. This traditional ritual signified the transformation of my girlhood into womanhood, childhood to adulthood. All in all, I was taught what it means to be a woman.

The days went by in a blink of eye. On the 12th day, I was woken up by my mother before the sunrise. I purified myself by taking bath and was dressed in bridal attire and make-up. I stared at my own reflection in the mirror for a while, my eyes were lined up with kajol, my cheeks were rosy and my full-lips were red with lipstick. I was draped into a red sari and my hair was tied into a high bun.

“Are you ready?” I heard a vague voice.

“Yes!” I answered to myself. “I am ready to be a woman.”

I was escorted by my mother into the terrace. A veil covered my head and face. I could hear and sense the numerous people in the terrace who were waiting for me. Someone handed me rice and flowers.  My mother lifted the veil, and for the first time in 12 days the sun embraced my face, my body felt warm, and I opened my eyes, I opened my eyes to the same world but now with different perspective.

gupha 2The wedding ceremony began completing with the custom of applying vermilion (sindur) on my forehead. I was now married to the sun. I was told that from now onward the sun will protect me from evil spirits and even in a case of untimely death of my human husband I would never be a widow which would prevent me from the tortures of the society.

The life after my gupha has been totally different. I was treated as an adult. I no longer spent my leisure time playing outside, I had numerous chores to do and help mother in her daily tasks. I was allowed to take life decisions and exposed to the real world. This ceremony marked a significant change in my life and lifestyle. I was no longer a wailing child, I was a fully grown-up woman in every aspect.

***********************************


 

XOXO,

Rizasa ❤

Different, Not Less!

 

Often times we take life for granted, all the small normal things we can do in life for granted.

Now, I want you to sit back, hold your breath and think for a while.

What if  you weren’t able to do the normal day to day activities? What if you wanted to express your feelings but your voice blurred and you had no words? What if you couldn’t react and respond? What if you were always categorized “different” from you peers? What if?

Well, I cringe even to think that happening to me. And I wouldn’t want anyone suffer with this. “Suffer” might not be the right word to use. As this is life and everyone must accept and cherish every single moment that comes with it.

I had an opportunity to volunteer in Special Olympics Nepa, a national level sports competition held for the children with autism and special needs. I got to interact and work with very special children from different parts of Nepal.

To be honest, I did not have high expectation. But when I saw the children performing the best of their ability, running with striving competitiveness, jumping as high as they can with all their might, throwing balls as far as they can with their full effort and alongside coordinating and communicating with each other, I was particularly awed, fully contented and extremely proud.

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Imperceptibly, they all inspired me to look at life from a disparate point of view. All the special children have in fact taught me to rise and shine and face the day with a impeccable smile even when it’s gloomy, to dance in life even if it rains,  and be carefree of yesterday and of tomorrow because life is ‘today’ and today we shall enjoy the fullest and live it to the best.

Anything is possible. You just need to have the willpower, acceptance and a chance.

Learn to see the ABLE in the disABLE!!


 

XOXO,

Rizasa ❤

Don’t Bend Until You Break

Have you ever stared at yourself on the mirror and contemplated? Or wanted to change anything or everything about your body? Ever wanted longer eye lashes, thigh gaps, lighter skin tone, no pimples and acnes? Ever?

I have!

Everyone wants to be perfect. Why not? Everyone has the right to want to be ‘that’ flawless cover-girl or look like ‘that’ model of Victoria’s secret. But have you ever gone beyond the pictures of those perfect divas?

Models go through hours of makeup before a photo shoot and their pictures are altered afterwards on the computers to make them look ‘even more perfect’. It takes hair dressers, stylists, lighting people, dress makers, make-up artists, assistant cameraman, wind machines and much more to achieve that ‘oh, so natural’ look.

And you are there, all by yourself, wondering why you can’t look like that.

No! I am not blaming you, not at all. But the society where we grew up, the medias and the TVs have set a permanent beauty standard; I mean the way we judge each other’s beauty and the image myth we have created in our minds.

Global research show that low body confidence holds young people back from reaching their full potential with over 60% of girls avoiding activities they love because they feel bad about their look. Despite an amazing diversity in looks and culture around the world, many girls and boys feel unsure about their bodies and lack body confidence. Only 11% of girls would use the word ‘beautiful’ to describe them. Are you one of them?

Just imagine waking up with a uni-brow or black teeth. EW!  Right? But do you know, in Tajikistan, women feel very lucky if their eyebrows grow across their forehead. If they don’t, they use herbal mixture to draw a line and join their eyebrows together. And in Japan until 1900s, married women and sometimes men, dyed their teeth because pitch black things were seen as beautiful.

So, what is the beauty standard?

Let us just forget the cover girls, the fashion divas and appreciate who we truly are beneath those artificial makeups and the pretentious personality we have created for ourselves.

Consider complementing the people around you rather than suggesting them to lose weight or grow lashes. Consider saying yourself ‘beautiful’ every time you look into the mirror. You will see the difference.

Imagine a world where no one is worried about the way they look because everyone is beautiful in their own ways. I believe it’s never too late. Together we can change the world, change the perceptions of people to judge on the basis of exterior looks, because what truly matters is how beautiful you are from the inside, from within.

 

5 reasons you should choose books over movies

Well, “books vs. movies” has always been a debate.

I often get asked, “Which one did you prefer, the book or the movie?”

My answer to that has always been “The Book.”

Here are 5 reasons why I love books over movies and why you should choose the former over the latter.

  1. Book is the universe, Movie whereas is just a galaxy.

Obviously, turning a 600 paged book into a 60 min movie isn’t a justice to the story. bokkkkkkkMovies often have no background and no character’s perspective.

While reading a book, you can live in the character’s mind. You’ll know what they are thinking and feeling. Where as in the movies, you’ll see what is shown to you!

I had this honor of watching the most adored series, Game of Thrones (The topic of gossip, I would like to name it) But for the first few episodes, or first many episodes, I was partially bank. I didn’t know who was who, who was what and who did what. But thanks to the eBooks that saved me.

 

  1. Movies are disappointments. (In most of the cases)

Well, when you read a book, you have created your own world, your own characters and in many cases the movies do not do justice to your imagination.boook.jpeg

In the harry potter movie series, I often find my favorite dialogue from the book missing or modified or some favorite event missing. (No offence To HP movie series, I love them next to the books)

And when I was watching the movie pride and prejudice, I was like…. Wait, what?? This isn’t what happens in the book.

On the other hand, when movies meet your imagination, it is also a disappointment. No longer than 3 years ago, I read ‘Two states’. And then the movie came and I eagerly watched that too. But guess what? I was muttering the dialogs along with the actors. Everything was same!!! And I successfully wasted 3 hours.

 

 

  1. That hunger to turn the pages, is REAL!!!!

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I have often seen myself in situations where my heart is pounding, my mouth is dry but I don’t want to drink, it’s time for bed but I want no sleep, because I am so desperate to know what happens next. That eagerness and hunger to turn the pages is something that can’t be compared even with the thriller movies.

You must read some of Sidney Sheldon’s, Stephen King’s, Dan Brown’s, and Paula Hawkins’. They are my by far best thriller writers.

Also, do you know how good the books smell? 😉

book smell

 

  1. Books surprise you

Well, how detailed is the 10 lined summary from the back of the book compared to 3 book supminutes trailer?

Not much, yeah? Just predict the unpredicted when you read books.

Also, the soundtrack is whatever you want it to be and you aren’t being constantly forewarned of any actual tension by a spike in the music so you can genuinely be surprised by the next plot twist.

 

 

Last but not the least,
  1. You can take the books anywhere, everywhere.

    downloaddd.jpeg

Books, they are your forever partners. Books are so portable.

I remember when in school days, in almost every class, we used to hide our Princess Diaries or Nicolas Sparks’ book under the table and escape the classes. Lol we would rather be reading Mia hating Algebra, than learning algebra in class.

How would have the teachers reacted if instead we were watching the movies in class? Haha

Here is a free advice for you, cover your novels like a regular textbook and Bingo no one will suspect!

 

LIke, if you agree with me and SHARE if you are a BOOKOHOLIC!!


XOXO,

Rizasa ❤

 

Always? Always!

 

“Always?”

“Always!”

He remembered their promise.

 

She was a piece of bright sunshine, shining bright even on the gloomy days, with a spark always on handy.

The day she was born, was the happiest day he ever came across. From then, laughter and cries of the little one echoed in the once upon a time, ‘silent house.’

The time which seemed impossible to pass,  passed in a blink of an eye with his daughter by his side.

She was inquisitive and curious like any other child.

“Father, Preeti Didi is not in her home for a long time. Where did she go after her wedding?” She had asked when she was five.

“Oh baby. She went to her own home. Girls need to leave their parents’ home and move out to their spouse’s place after marriage. You’ll also move out to your spouse’s house some day.”

“Why only girls? Why can’t boys leave their home and move out to ours?”

He smiled at her.

“Because girls are strong, strong enough to leave their parents and start a new life in a completely different world, strong enough to balance two families and strong enough to handle things more cautiously.”

“But I am not going to leave you, Father. I’m taking you with me in my spouse’s house.”

He couldn’t help laughing at the solipsism of his daughter.

“No dear. I won’t be with you every time.”

“But I want to be always be with you, every time.” She blankly stared at him.

“Always?” He carried her off the ground.

“Always!” she answered.

 


 

Now, 20 years later she was lying in bed inside the ICU, with incubators.

“We are waiting for you to say ‘yes’, sir.” He heard someone say.

He turned around to see the nurse.

His eyes had filled up with tears.

“How can this happen to her? She just brought me lunch this morning and I put a Dashain tika on her forehead just few hours ago. Why didn’t maa Durga protect her?”

“I’m  so sorry for your loss sir, I don’t understand why god does this to beautiful souls.” She tried to console him. “But like this, she is only going to suffer more, let her rest in peace.”

“How can I say ‘yes’ to take the life of my own daughter?” he cried.

“My heart sinks to tell you that she is not your daughter anymore.” She paused. ” The person you knew is already gone. Her body is only breathing because of the machines. Let her go, sir.”

He closed his eyes. This was the toughest decision of his life; to let the most beloved one to let go.

“Okay.” He whispered silently.

“But I don’t want her heart. Give it to someone else.” He muttered with hesitation.

“Sir, I know this is tough. But you are on the top in our donor list and you have waited for over 5 years for a heart transplant. Sir, please! we are never going to get a better match for you.”

He looked at her frantically. “How am I going to survive with the heart of my daughter beating inside me? With all day and every day, only with regrets and reminiscence of her! Every beats telling me that ‘I took the life of my own daughter to give a life to myself’. No, I don’t want her heart. I can’t be selfish.”

The nurse approached him cautiously, “Sir, I won’t say I understand how hard losing a child is for a parent but I understand how hard losing a parent is for a child. I lost my mother 2 months ago and it was the most difficult period of my life. Her death was sudden. If I had known about this earlier, I would have done everything to save her. I would have even given my own heart to her. Because she was my everything.”

She glanced inside the ICU.

“And if now, your daughter was conscious, she would probably want to help you, because you were her everything and she made a promise right? ‘always!’ ”

He stared at his  daughter who was covered in incubator.

“But I will always be with you, every time.”  He remembered her saying 20 years ago.

“Always?” He asked.

“Always!” she answered.


XOXO,

Rizasa 💝

CHROMOSOMES: Part 2

 

 

I saw my mother on the bed, looking at me with a permanent smile on her face.

Her eyes were filled with tears and I wonder if she realized it or not that the tears had rolled down her cheeks and touched her lips, giving more perfection to her smile.

This particular happening took me back 20 years ago….. when I was just 7.

It was the time of April. Spring was at the peak and happiness was in people but at the same time, I was there; completely unaware about life and happiness.

Now and then, I used to wander, in search of food, in search of compassion. My clothes were ragged and I couldn’t remember the patterns of my red skirt or last time my white shirt was white.  My hair was a mess and there were countless allergies and wounds on my body.

It felt as if I was a living dead because no one even cared to notice me.

One day, I was punished and beaten just because I had touched a ball of a rich kid. Though I was small, I has understood the code of the world, “money is everything; a key to contentment as well as callousness.” Because whoever had money was definitely happy; but they lacked the vital feeling of humanity, compassion and love.

I couldn’t remember the last time I ate properly. My body was weak and it felt like it hadn’t received nutrition for weeks.

I went inside a restaurant. If I was lucky enough that day, I would get some leftovers.

As the waiter saw me, he yelled, “You again? Didn’t I say you to never come here? This place is for decent peoples not filthy child like you.”

I stood there, staring at the heartless person before me. I tried to beg and cry for food but I didn’t have energy.

I joined my hands and closed my eyes. I could feel my tears.

Then after some moments, the waiter said, “Okay I will give you the leftovers but only if you wash those dishes on time.” He pointed to the piles of dishes in the kitchen.

I nodded.

 

The hands of the clock where continuously changing, but the piles of utensils didn’t decrease. I wanted to weep but I knew there was nothing inside me, not even a drop of tear to come out.

I saw the waiter on the kitchen door. He was apparently angry. “You filthy child! Only 6 plates in two hours? Now you are not getting the leftovers.”

After saying this, he grabbed the tray of leftovers and threw it on the street for dogs. I wanted to run for the breadcrumbs but my tiny thin legs didn’t help.

I managed to slowly walk till the door but by the time i got there, the dogs were already enjoying their meal.

The dogs usually stared at me and begin to growl with anger reflecting on their faces. That time I realized that a poor human is the poorest among all living beings.

I once again opened the door of the restaurant to go inside because I still have loads of utensil to clean.  Though now I could get nothing in return but I must need to keep my words.

When I opened the door I saw a lady blocking my way. She was tall, brunette and dressed in red. She had big almond eyes, same as mine, slim nose and thin lips which was painted in red. She was elegant with a perfect smile on her face.

For the first time, I had seen someone smiling at me. She didn’t speak a word but instead grabbed my hands and took me to the nearest table.

She gestured the waiters to bring foods and the waiters lined up with beautifully decorated food trays.

The waiter who had scolded me before and didn’t let me eat breadcrumbs was bringing me a whole piece of beautifully decorated sandwich.

After the foods had arrived, the lady said with a soft voice, “This is for you.”

I was particularly amazed to hear this. These four words literally changed my perception towards rich people. That day I realized that god actually sends angels for help.

That day, I ate like anything and everything and the lady was simply smiling at me.

After I finished my meal, I mean I huge meal; the lady asked, “what’s your name?”

I blacked out for a moment because it had been months that I hadn’t been called by my name.

After some time, I answered “Alison, my name is Allison.”

I found my voice to be louder than ever.

She introduced herself as Rachel, the owner of the restaurant.

She again inquired me, “Where are your parents? Where do they live?”

Even though I knew the answer but my voice began to shake, my lips were trembling. The bitter truth which was buried in my heart was finally making its way out.

“I don’t have parent and I live on the streets.” I stammered.

I saw Rachel’s smile fade away which was being replaced with compassion and sympathy.

Her eyes were filled with tears and I wonder if she realized it or not that the tears had rolled down her cheeks and touched her lips, giving more perfection to her smile.

“May I have the honor of being your mother?”


 

Heyyy! so here is the story of Alison’s past… her struggle with life and how she met her mother.

But still the mystery behind Rachel’s  attempt to commit suicide remains unclear.

Stay Tuned till Next FriYay!!!



XOXO,

Rizasa ❤

CHROMOSOMES- Part 1

How can she do this to me? I just can’t believe it.

First of all, she taught me to dream, I dreamt. Then she taught me to live in those dreams, I lived. And now without teaching me to quit those dreams, she is just trying to run away.

I gave her my love, I shared my courage with her and I was always a company to her. And now, I am hollow. Because whatever that I possessed are being taken. Now, I have nothing.

My mind was blank; completely blank. I felt as if my heart had stopped beating. There was no more sensation that trapped me and leapt into me.

A sudden wrench brought me back to life. The phone had fallen from my grip.

I stared at the phone for a while; the phone which changed my life.

I was senseless, emotionless and overall: lifeless. Because the person who gave light to my life and glow to my memories is now hanging between life and death.

I didn’t want to know what will happen nor was I aware about what was happening. But I knew, all the omens which were around, were predicting a horrible end.

I wanted to see her and ask her, “Mother, what compelled you to drop this down?”

When I had no hope, she was there. So, she is my hope. When I thought that my world has end, she introduced me her world. So, she is my world.  She is my family, my love and my every possible thing.

She knows that this little girl of hers cannot survive in this lonely world without her. She knows it!

So, I wanted to ask her what compelled her to take this step.

I have always priortized her, always. But she priortized drugs more than me.

She always used to talk about destiny and fate. Now that I am remembering her words, I once again had to console myself that I was still alive cause the feeling had been so intense but empty.

I wanted to see her and ask her, “Mother, was this your destiny?”

*

I was unaware that I was already seated in my car. I wanted to start the car, or maybe not; but an invisible load on my head didn’t let me take decision.

My mind was going through all those moments spent with her.

The last time I saw her was in the rehabilitation centre. And the only face I could remember of her now is the one where her eyes were covered with tears and her lips with unspoken words.

I heard a woman cry with all her might. I was shaken. I realized that I was actually driving and I didn’t even know.

It took me seconds to recall what just happened in my life.

I saw my phone blinking. I grabbed it and saw 6 missed calls from the hospital. I feared to call back.

After some time, I reached the hospital. When I was heading towards the reception, I could hear my heart beating erratically.

I could feel a bitter cold grabbing my legs and trying to pull me inside the ground. The coldness became more intense with the passing of time.

I looked down at my feet. And then I realized I had no shoes nor was I in a proper dress.

I ran towards room no. 606 where my mother was. It felt as if I had been running my entire life.

“After the darkest hour of the night; there comes a beautiful dawn.” People say.

But what if sun refused to rise?

*

 

My heart beat again, but this time, it was a pleasant one.

I saw my mother on the bed……….

 


YO! the story is vague till now, I know.

But as the story proceeds, more secrets are bound to be revealed and a ravish truth to be discovered.

Stay tuned!!! Until next FriYay!!


XOXO,

Rizasa<3

 

CHROMOSOMES- Prologue

 

 

Want to see you once again;

Once again in the kitchen light,

Again by the scooty side ,

Waving me a warm good-bye.

 

The way you used to smile at me,

Wish the essence I could again see.

Because I am missing every moment spent with you;

Your stories, your gossips and your every single virtue.

 

You rose me up, loved me enough;

And now without you, it’s gonna be tough.

But I’ve no insecurities cause you held me right,

And made me strong enough to survive,

Without you by my side!

Without you by my side!!


 

XOXO,

Rizasa ❤


 

 

THE OSCARS

“And the Oscars goes to ARORA.”

She felt as if her heart was going to swell up and burst. Her eyes went wide open; like she couldn’t even blink. The name squired inside her head which began to draw her heart to percept.

As she stood up, struggling to get a grip of the moment, trying to step forward to let her dreams come true.

And finally she was now on the stage trying to deliver a heartily speech but she couldn’t speak because she was blank, completely blank; a mixture of happiness and excitement twirled balancely inside her body.

And finally she started.images (1).jpeg

“(SmilesJ) THIS IS AMAZING!

When I was a child, I used to stand in front of the mirror, hold a perfume and deliver a speech I seemed to make in myself.

And now; today, that I am here in front of such a mass, holding an Oscar……trust me I’ve got no words to say.  This is my first and I surely want more of these!  Thanks to the entire crew and all to those who’ve made me strong.

Thanks to my dad up there, who is proud today, I know! And mum I love you!!  This little girl of yours has made it through.

Thank you so much everyone.

Have a wonderful evening.”

 

This speech seemed to have some heartily truth on it. This only moment had changed her whole life. Before an hour she was an ordinary star and now she is a celebrity with name, fame, reputation and an Oscar. What more could she want??

She was walking out arranging her features into a smile and trying to hold it there and occasionally shortening her stride to catch up with cameras.

This was truly a senseless feeling that she hadn’t felt it in her whole life.

She was on the way home, feeling the difference while the memories of her past bringing a smile on her face. Then a sudden shock caught her. The car stopped with a jerk sound.

She was really distracted and totally stunned, “What happened? Everything alright?” she asked callously.

An apologetic voice seemed to appear “Ma’am I think there is a problem in the engine. I’ll see it.”

The driver went to check the engine.

It had been a long time the driver had gone out but still the hands in the clock didn’t fasten up. And of course, she was not patient.

She came out of the car and asked with disruption, “How much more time?”

The driver was distracted and looked up at her. There was something which stroke him up with the idea; the lonely place, the dark forest and a woman in all these circumstance.

He frowned at her in the darkness.

Her heart skipped a bit. She could feel the first hint of danger.

“I think I should call a friend.” She said blankly; her heart pounding more vigorously.

Instead of replying, he bit his lower lips; scrutinizing her.

She knew that she was trapped; trapped in such a way where you have no alternatives.

Her mind was going blank.

She stepped backwards, gasping for air.

He approached her.

Her heart was beating too fast to make her hear any other thing.

Her breadth caught up in her throat when she felt a huge evilly hand on her hair pulling it back.

She could see his eyes were now dreaded and his lips were pulled back from his teeth. Then he threw her on the ground.

She felt a strong hard substance hit her head and then her chest. It pained hard. The valves of pain occupied her and washed over her head. And it didn’t take a second to make her unconscious.

 


Next day:

When the dew drops came to rest upon her eyes, she woke up. She found out she’d survived. But she felt the chronic pain sending waves of hurt through her head but however she managed. Blood was drying up in thick streaks across her forehead and cheeks. Whatever it was that had happened the previous night had left her dead.

She managed to stand up. Her body was covering with useless heaps, her empty stomach contracted with horrible nausea, though there was nothing in it to expel.

 


After two days:

She was standing in a bright shaft of sunlight. She still couldn’t believe that the driver was capable to do this to her. Not sure what she wanted at this moment; either a public report which would surely bring vain to her fame or stay still, forgetting about what had happened. But this was not what she wanted. What she wanted was revenge, and now she was for it, holding a gun in her hand in front of the scoundrel (driver).

She analyzed the short dark man’s face. She suffered a sensation of anger and revenge for the terrible man who had played with her.

And now any moment would bring her justice, a life with self respect.

Then something weird happened. She’d thought he’d gotten over his guilt. But he’d gone back to exactly how he’d acted – evil and inhuman.

He was laughing holding his breath in his throat.

“Kill me!! Ha-ha. Kill me!! If you only want your  MMS to travel around the world.” The last sentence was said loudly and boldly.

She was momentarily distracted. But this time she thought she shouldn’t be. Her future meant so little without her self-respect.

Though her hands were shaking she raised it up.

Her eyes narrowed here and there. But alas! She didn’t see him. He had run when she was busy conversing with herself and she didn’t even notice.  And now she felt a rude sensation like a big hole was punched in her navel.


After a week:

Time passed even if it seemed impossible.

She’d forgotten the reason for living.

That day had played a cruel joke on her leaving her in a serious dilemma. In which one said “You need revenge. You are not the type who sits in the corner and let him chase you. Go Arora kill him! That’s the way it should be and that’s the way it will be.”

But another sense told her “No Arora there’s not bit intelligence on killing him. However it won’t change what happened to you. But the thing which will change is your future which will be rotating inside the four walls of the jail while your MMS spreads around.”

She wasn’t sure which would be harder to see; if she was inside the dark room echoing from floor to ceiling or certainly hurting by giving a vain to all her reputation. So she concluded to give up the 1st idea but the 2nd one too didn’t help. What was she going to do now??

She was now completely lost in her own path; searching for her lost life.

Suddenly her phone rang. She saw an unknown number on the screen. She picked it up.

The hustle sound didn’t even wait her to say ‘hello’.

“Huh! Remember me??”

She didn’t have to think to know who it was. Whether she was awaken or asleep or even dead she’d bet she would recognize him. He was the same scoundrel.

“I’ll wait for you. Today 8pm and if you won’t come…..” he sounded drunk but his sentence was disturbed by her sudden voice. “What if I won’t come? And don’t you dare to call me again.”

She was about to burst with anger when the phone said “hey hey lady…..First listen to me.” This was said pleasurably but the next sentence was dread. “If you won’t come conclude that your MMS will be dancing around the world tomorrow.”

She couldn’t argue this time. Her voice was shaking. She couldn’t see any way out but the fragile problem haunting her.

 


Next day:

It was noon and there was not a slight smell of the MMS. What did it mean? Had she really gone there? Or was the MMS fake?

The answer is ‘the MMS story was fake.’ Had she only heard the news, the world would have been on her feet but something else happened.

She was laying pale and white except for the purple circles under her eyes which were wide open and her pink lips and her blushful cheeks were now covered with foams and bloods. Never had she imagined she’d give hope so easily. Never had she thought of suicide. She had poisoned herself just after that call.

That single day played it all to change her life. It made an ordinary woman into a big celebrity, which made her believe that nothing worse could turn up but soon after the same day made her realize that nothing better would show up and make an end to her LIFE.


XOXO,

RIZASA ❤