220. How money matters in your life
As a bored teenager, I was browsing through the net, trying to entertain myself. Then, as I visited a well-known entertainment website, I can across a picture that really got me thinking. The picture was titled, "The reality about work," and it showed a triangle with its three corners labeled "well-paid," "legal," and "interesting." On the bottom, it said, "You can only choose two." I was stuck in a dilemma when I saw this. Which one was I going to choose? Of course, I am not going to do something illegal with my life. Therefore, my first secure choice was that I would join on workforce that is completely legal. Now, I had to decide between it being interesting or well-paid. In my life, I have seen people who love their jobs and those who detest them. My father, for one, loves his job and is committed to what he does. He never complains about it being boring because his job is his passion. However, in other circumstances, there are people who chose their careers by other means, whether it is family recommendations or, as in this case, how well the job can provide you a living. Everybody dreams of being successful, being able to provide your family with all its needs, and living without any financial problems. However, if you don’t love what you do, then sooner or later, you will want to quit and start again, or you would just die unhappy because you couldn’t spend your life entirely dedicated to what you are passionate about. Therefore, if I really had to make a choice between the job being well-paid or interesting, I would choose interesting. However, I know that the work I choose to do in the future doesn’t have just two of these characteristics. I will make sure I have a job that makes be successful, is something I love doing, and still engages my attention.
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Challenge 49: Quotation
104. What is your favorite quotation and why? (Princeton)
A huge, black and white portrait of the great leader Mahatma Gandhi hangs just above the window at my home. Under the gentle face of Gandhi is written in black ink: "It has always been a mystery to me how men can feel themselves honored by the humiliation of their fellow beings. -Mahatma Gandhi" My father, who has been inspired by this great man and many others, hung this portrait up and a couple others around the house as soon as it was built. Having lived under this roof for almost eight years, I have no idea how many times I have passed the portrait and read the text.
Maybe it is the fact that this quotation is inscribed in my memory, maybe it is the respect I feel for this great leader, but I think it is probably because of the truth these words hold and how this quotation really appeals to the human in me that makes it my favorite quotation. We, humans, are irrational creatures and sometimes, humiliating other people can make ourselves feel better when we are down. When somebody is weaker than us or not as competent, we like to shine in their sadness and engulf in the thought that we are better than others. Here, Gandhi speaks the truth, the bitter truth. In order to become better people, we need to shine above and beyond out nasty human characteristics and think in a way that is profitable for all. I, as an individual, avoid making somebody else’s humiliation my way of feeling better about myself. I understand that I need to mature up and need to take other people’s feelings and emotions into perspective, start thinking about how my words and actions are making them feel. This will, all in all, help me become a better person tomorrow.
A huge, black and white portrait of the great leader Mahatma Gandhi hangs just above the window at my home. Under the gentle face of Gandhi is written in black ink: "It has always been a mystery to me how men can feel themselves honored by the humiliation of their fellow beings. -Mahatma Gandhi" My father, who has been inspired by this great man and many others, hung this portrait up and a couple others around the house as soon as it was built. Having lived under this roof for almost eight years, I have no idea how many times I have passed the portrait and read the text.
Maybe it is the fact that this quotation is inscribed in my memory, maybe it is the respect I feel for this great leader, but I think it is probably because of the truth these words hold and how this quotation really appeals to the human in me that makes it my favorite quotation. We, humans, are irrational creatures and sometimes, humiliating other people can make ourselves feel better when we are down. When somebody is weaker than us or not as competent, we like to shine in their sadness and engulf in the thought that we are better than others. Here, Gandhi speaks the truth, the bitter truth. In order to become better people, we need to shine above and beyond out nasty human characteristics and think in a way that is profitable for all. I, as an individual, avoid making somebody else’s humiliation my way of feeling better about myself. I understand that I need to mature up and need to take other people’s feelings and emotions into perspective, start thinking about how my words and actions are making them feel. This will, all in all, help me become a better person tomorrow.
Friday, December 30, 2011
Challenge 48: Hiding in the Paint and the Pages
222. Where you go to hide and why
As a student living in a boarding school, it is predictable that I get into little arguments with my friends. Additionally, the homesickness that I feel at these times because I am away from home doesn't help feel any better. These are times when really, all I want to do is escape and hide away somewhere, where I don't have to deal with all these problems, although I would very much like to. And, after all these fights and arguments, I have realized that the best thing to do when I want to hide away is to do something that I really love, which will help me not think about the dramatic situations that surround me right now.
For example, ever since I was small, I have always loved to do art, and consequently, I took art classes at my school. The art room at school is very comforting. The windows are big, covered just with glass which easily lets all the sunshine through. I sit there, long after school is over, with my ears absorbing the sound of my music from the earphones. I sit there, on a wooden stool, the drawing book so soft under my hands, scribbling and finishing up the work I was assigned. I forget about all the things bothering me and just relax while I hide somewhere far away from all my troubles.
Another activity I enjoy doing is reading books. It was something that I have made sure that I constantly do in order to expand my knowledge and know more about everything around me. Therefore, when I get a bad grade or have to deal with something unfair and I just want to escape it all, I read. I let myself get lost in the world of a character out of a story. I read and read, encounter all the problems my character is having, and I think about the situation she is in. I think about how this is going to end and how everything will finally settle down and return to the way it was. It just seems so much more convenient to know that the end, which has already been written, cannot be changed. No matter what I, as a reader, do, the characters will end up the way the author decided. It’s easier to believe that at least there is an end to all the troubles my character is facing, even if the ending is a happy one or a sad one.
One might call me a coward because I like to escape my problems and distract myself, rather than facing them. However, I know that I have to face them sooner or later, but even these moments of distraction help me feel better. They help me realize that even if my problems end badly, there are still things I can do that will show that all is not over.
As a student living in a boarding school, it is predictable that I get into little arguments with my friends. Additionally, the homesickness that I feel at these times because I am away from home doesn't help feel any better. These are times when really, all I want to do is escape and hide away somewhere, where I don't have to deal with all these problems, although I would very much like to. And, after all these fights and arguments, I have realized that the best thing to do when I want to hide away is to do something that I really love, which will help me not think about the dramatic situations that surround me right now.
For example, ever since I was small, I have always loved to do art, and consequently, I took art classes at my school. The art room at school is very comforting. The windows are big, covered just with glass which easily lets all the sunshine through. I sit there, long after school is over, with my ears absorbing the sound of my music from the earphones. I sit there, on a wooden stool, the drawing book so soft under my hands, scribbling and finishing up the work I was assigned. I forget about all the things bothering me and just relax while I hide somewhere far away from all my troubles.
Another activity I enjoy doing is reading books. It was something that I have made sure that I constantly do in order to expand my knowledge and know more about everything around me. Therefore, when I get a bad grade or have to deal with something unfair and I just want to escape it all, I read. I let myself get lost in the world of a character out of a story. I read and read, encounter all the problems my character is having, and I think about the situation she is in. I think about how this is going to end and how everything will finally settle down and return to the way it was. It just seems so much more convenient to know that the end, which has already been written, cannot be changed. No matter what I, as a reader, do, the characters will end up the way the author decided. It’s easier to believe that at least there is an end to all the troubles my character is facing, even if the ending is a happy one or a sad one.
One might call me a coward because I like to escape my problems and distract myself, rather than facing them. However, I know that I have to face them sooner or later, but even these moments of distraction help me feel better. They help me realize that even if my problems end badly, there are still things I can do that will show that all is not over.
Challenge 47: Caterpillar
173. If you had to describe yourself as an animal, what animal would you select and why?
As unpleasant as they seem to many people, caterpillars are equally fascinating creatures. They have a mysterious aura surrounding them and are as unpredictable as can be. Although many people avoid them because of the way they look, they are beautiful the way they are with their long, fuzzy bodies decorated with spots or lines. The dull black or brown color of their skin is promising beautiful, well-developed butterflies. Their way of slowly feeding off on a leaf, little by little, taking their own time, shows that they are patient creatures. They are patient because soon, they are going to be magnificent creatures. They endure the disappointment from other people and constantly work on preparing for the future. The soon-to-be-a-butterfly looks like any other ugly creature but the wonders it is yet to show is hidden. These caterpillars have yet to turn into beautiful butterflies that so elegantly decorate the gardens and flowers. Caterpillars should not be underestimated because of the way they are now, at this stage. They are are still developing, slowly, and taking their time to mature. They are working towards a better future.
If feel like a caterpillar sometimes. I fail at something and I instantly want to quit. However, this failure, alongside of the criticism from other people, makes me want to try again. It encourages me to contribute to the person I will be in the future. It makes me want to show other people that they are thinking wrong when they underestimate the person I am. Right now, I might feel pathetic and hopeless when I fail at something, but I know that this failure will only do me good. I just have to endure all that I am today in hopes of becoming a better human being in the future who has a better grip on how to make out the best of herself.
As unpleasant as they seem to many people, caterpillars are equally fascinating creatures. They have a mysterious aura surrounding them and are as unpredictable as can be. Although many people avoid them because of the way they look, they are beautiful the way they are with their long, fuzzy bodies decorated with spots or lines. The dull black or brown color of their skin is promising beautiful, well-developed butterflies. Their way of slowly feeding off on a leaf, little by little, taking their own time, shows that they are patient creatures. They are patient because soon, they are going to be magnificent creatures. They endure the disappointment from other people and constantly work on preparing for the future. The soon-to-be-a-butterfly looks like any other ugly creature but the wonders it is yet to show is hidden. These caterpillars have yet to turn into beautiful butterflies that so elegantly decorate the gardens and flowers. Caterpillars should not be underestimated because of the way they are now, at this stage. They are are still developing, slowly, and taking their time to mature. They are working towards a better future.
If feel like a caterpillar sometimes. I fail at something and I instantly want to quit. However, this failure, alongside of the criticism from other people, makes me want to try again. It encourages me to contribute to the person I will be in the future. It makes me want to show other people that they are thinking wrong when they underestimate the person I am. Right now, I might feel pathetic and hopeless when I fail at something, but I know that this failure will only do me good. I just have to endure all that I am today in hopes of becoming a better human being in the future who has a better grip on how to make out the best of herself.
Challenge 46: FLY!
218. What super power you would choose . . .
Like many other kids, I always dreamed about flying. Maybe it was the way Tinkerbell could flap her tiny wings and float so effortlessly or maybe it was the way Spider Man jumped from building to building that made be want to fly too. Whatever it was, the prospect of jumping off a building, falling a little, and then sweeping up to fly off into the distance was always appealing to me. Of course, I never tried jumping off a roof, but it was something that I have always wanted to do. Fly.
If I could choose a superpower, I would choose to fly. I would fly from country to country, continent to continent, finding new places. I would go to all the Wonders of the World and visit places that I have heard so many things about. I would go far up in the sky and play with the clouds. I would feel the softness of the clouds and sit on them while I travel from place to place, eating cotton candy. I would jump off from the clouds and fly away with the birds. I would watch them flap their wings so elegantly as I glide alongside them. Then, I would leave everything behind and soar upwards, outside the perimeter of the world. I would fly and fly, until I am tired. I would reach new places that nobody has ever heard about. I would discover new things, learn new things, and experience new things. When I am finally tired and too tired to fly anymore, I would fall. I would fall backwards, to the place where I came from. I would be happy to fall because I would know that I have done my best to make absolute use of my power. I would fall and fall, until the end, and then, I would be satisfied and would share this extraordinary adventure with the rest of the world.
Like many other kids, I always dreamed about flying. Maybe it was the way Tinkerbell could flap her tiny wings and float so effortlessly or maybe it was the way Spider Man jumped from building to building that made be want to fly too. Whatever it was, the prospect of jumping off a building, falling a little, and then sweeping up to fly off into the distance was always appealing to me. Of course, I never tried jumping off a roof, but it was something that I have always wanted to do. Fly.
If I could choose a superpower, I would choose to fly. I would fly from country to country, continent to continent, finding new places. I would go to all the Wonders of the World and visit places that I have heard so many things about. I would go far up in the sky and play with the clouds. I would feel the softness of the clouds and sit on them while I travel from place to place, eating cotton candy. I would jump off from the clouds and fly away with the birds. I would watch them flap their wings so elegantly as I glide alongside them. Then, I would leave everything behind and soar upwards, outside the perimeter of the world. I would fly and fly, until I am tired. I would reach new places that nobody has ever heard about. I would discover new things, learn new things, and experience new things. When I am finally tired and too tired to fly anymore, I would fall. I would fall backwards, to the place where I came from. I would be happy to fall because I would know that I have done my best to make absolute use of my power. I would fall and fall, until the end, and then, I would be satisfied and would share this extraordinary adventure with the rest of the world.
Thursday, December 29, 2011
Challenge 45: Fake Nails
227. The 100 percent perfect
When one gets bored, she needs to do something innovative to stimulate her brain. Therefore, when another boring day of my holidays arrived, I wanted to turn it into something completely energetic and lively. Of course, with my sister also enjoying her winter vacation alongside of me, it gave me an opportunity to do something much more interactive and fun, because in matters like these, my sister can think very fast.
We both bite our nails, which I know is a terrible habit because it makes my fingers look ugly and they even start to bleed sometimes. Nevertheless, my nails have never been longer than a few centimeters before I chew them off to bits. Earlier that week, we had visited our cousin sister who had a bunch of fake nails sitting on her dresser. My sister's eyes flung wide open when she saw these and asked our cousin if we could take some home. Being the sweet sister she is, she told us to knock ourselves out. And now, there they were, sitting on the table of my room, painted clumsily in bright red paint by my sister. We sat around the short, round table, deciding who was going to try them on first. Being the eldest, I used my I-a-older-than-you-so-I-get-to-go-first tactic to claim the first try.
Human beings are reckless sometimes and so were we when we applied some superglue (and they mean super) on my short, uneven fingernails and carefully placed the fake nails on top. After we were done, I held out my hand for both of us to observe the result of our excitement. There they were, my hands, looking like they had been grabbed right out of the Fairytale book with an evil witch. We ran to our mother to show them off. My mother, giving rise to her childishness, acted scared and powerless beneath the sharpness of those fingernails. We danced around a bit, took some pictures with the gleaming, red nails, and decided that it was time for my sister to put them on.
However, we hadn't realized how strong the glue could be. As I sat there, my hands soaked it water, tears of pain started to gather in my eyes. I tried removing the nails, but they were stuck so strongly to the fingernails that they refused to move. With a little push and pull, I got through my four fingers. Because of the little nail paint that was left from a long time ago, they came off fine, removing just a layer of my fingernails. Horrified as I looked at my thumb, the last of the remaining, I heard my sister laugh. She giggled and snickered, her hands clutching stomach and her eyes tearing up with all the laughter. Words streamed out of her mouth along the lines of, "A minute ago, you were show them off. Now look what happened: you are suffering. That was a really stupid thing to do, Nanu. Thank god I didn't go first." I became even angrier after she said this and tried my best to ignore her. She continued to laugh at my supposed "stupidity."
It finally came off in the end along with a layer of my thumbnail, which was really painful. After the pain had settled, I realized what a stupid thing it was for me to do. I joined my sister and we continued to laugh our heads off. Then, at that moment, I realized how perfect this situation was, the 100 perfect perfect, where we were both having so much fun. I realized the importance of being a sister, of being mean to her but at the same time laughing along with her and indicating that I was just teasing and being ... well, an elder sister.
When one gets bored, she needs to do something innovative to stimulate her brain. Therefore, when another boring day of my holidays arrived, I wanted to turn it into something completely energetic and lively. Of course, with my sister also enjoying her winter vacation alongside of me, it gave me an opportunity to do something much more interactive and fun, because in matters like these, my sister can think very fast.
We both bite our nails, which I know is a terrible habit because it makes my fingers look ugly and they even start to bleed sometimes. Nevertheless, my nails have never been longer than a few centimeters before I chew them off to bits. Earlier that week, we had visited our cousin sister who had a bunch of fake nails sitting on her dresser. My sister's eyes flung wide open when she saw these and asked our cousin if we could take some home. Being the sweet sister she is, she told us to knock ourselves out. And now, there they were, sitting on the table of my room, painted clumsily in bright red paint by my sister. We sat around the short, round table, deciding who was going to try them on first. Being the eldest, I used my I-a-older-than-you-so-I-get-to-go-first tactic to claim the first try.
Human beings are reckless sometimes and so were we when we applied some superglue (and they mean super) on my short, uneven fingernails and carefully placed the fake nails on top. After we were done, I held out my hand for both of us to observe the result of our excitement. There they were, my hands, looking like they had been grabbed right out of the Fairytale book with an evil witch. We ran to our mother to show them off. My mother, giving rise to her childishness, acted scared and powerless beneath the sharpness of those fingernails. We danced around a bit, took some pictures with the gleaming, red nails, and decided that it was time for my sister to put them on.
However, we hadn't realized how strong the glue could be. As I sat there, my hands soaked it water, tears of pain started to gather in my eyes. I tried removing the nails, but they were stuck so strongly to the fingernails that they refused to move. With a little push and pull, I got through my four fingers. Because of the little nail paint that was left from a long time ago, they came off fine, removing just a layer of my fingernails. Horrified as I looked at my thumb, the last of the remaining, I heard my sister laugh. She giggled and snickered, her hands clutching stomach and her eyes tearing up with all the laughter. Words streamed out of her mouth along the lines of, "A minute ago, you were show them off. Now look what happened: you are suffering. That was a really stupid thing to do, Nanu. Thank god I didn't go first." I became even angrier after she said this and tried my best to ignore her. She continued to laugh at my supposed "stupidity."
It finally came off in the end along with a layer of my thumbnail, which was really painful. After the pain had settled, I realized what a stupid thing it was for me to do. I joined my sister and we continued to laugh our heads off. Then, at that moment, I realized how perfect this situation was, the 100 perfect perfect, where we were both having so much fun. I realized the importance of being a sister, of being mean to her but at the same time laughing along with her and indicating that I was just teasing and being ... well, an elder sister.
Challenge 44: Home
243. Describe the perfect home.
I wake up at around 8:30 a.m., take a quick peek at my watch only to realize it's too early to get up. I throw back the covers and try to fall back asleep.
My sister is snoring next to me. Irritated as I am, I can't help but notice the way she clings to me, with her arms thrown over me like she can't let go.
No matter how many times I tell my father the dangers with the covers over his head, he still prefers to do so. As I try to catch up with the sleep that has long left me, I think about the long hours he spends at night, trying get this done and this sorted.
My grandparents, who live on the topmost floor of the house, are early risers. They get up so early in the mornings that it is still dark outside with the stars gleaming pitifully in the distance. As my helper makes them both some hot tea before heading off to college at 6 in them morning, my grandparents offer their prayers to the heavens, hoping for peace and prosperity in our larger, extended family.
My mother has woken up far earlier than me, taken a quick shower, changed into fresh clothes, and already performed her ritual puja for the day. She heads into the kitchen, ready to make breakfast for the family.
My brother, being a bright child, has woken up at the wee hours of the day. Whenever I sleep with my brother and mother, his screams and demands in the mornings manages to knock the sleepiness right out of my head. He gets ready for school and my mother rushes him outside to catch his little white van.
This is how another ordinary day starts at this perfect home of mine. It is simply perfect for its harmony and coherence. It is perfect because everybody lives happily, under one roof, as a single united family. Once everybody gets home after leaving for the day, whether it be for school, for the organization for the upcoming family gathering, for some deposits in the bank, or for office work, we all have our dinners and warm ourselves up next to the heater. My grandfather is a tough, strong man and refuses to waste anytime by the heater, and instead, prefers to go up to his room and get some work done on the long pedigree chart he is working on. However, my grandmother is rather energetic and chooses to spend her time with the rest of the family as she watches my brother play and destroy one thing or another. My parents catch up on the day's events as my sister and I fool around. If there is load shedding, which is when all the lights are out, then we gather even closer to the heater, sharing jokes and stories with each other and just enjoying out time together as a family.
This is how a perfect day goes by at a perfect home. I love my family just the way it is: ordinary and perfect.
I wake up at around 8:30 a.m., take a quick peek at my watch only to realize it's too early to get up. I throw back the covers and try to fall back asleep.
My sister is snoring next to me. Irritated as I am, I can't help but notice the way she clings to me, with her arms thrown over me like she can't let go.
No matter how many times I tell my father the dangers with the covers over his head, he still prefers to do so. As I try to catch up with the sleep that has long left me, I think about the long hours he spends at night, trying get this done and this sorted.
My grandparents, who live on the topmost floor of the house, are early risers. They get up so early in the mornings that it is still dark outside with the stars gleaming pitifully in the distance. As my helper makes them both some hot tea before heading off to college at 6 in them morning, my grandparents offer their prayers to the heavens, hoping for peace and prosperity in our larger, extended family.
My mother has woken up far earlier than me, taken a quick shower, changed into fresh clothes, and already performed her ritual puja for the day. She heads into the kitchen, ready to make breakfast for the family.
My brother, being a bright child, has woken up at the wee hours of the day. Whenever I sleep with my brother and mother, his screams and demands in the mornings manages to knock the sleepiness right out of my head. He gets ready for school and my mother rushes him outside to catch his little white van.
This is how another ordinary day starts at this perfect home of mine. It is simply perfect for its harmony and coherence. It is perfect because everybody lives happily, under one roof, as a single united family. Once everybody gets home after leaving for the day, whether it be for school, for the organization for the upcoming family gathering, for some deposits in the bank, or for office work, we all have our dinners and warm ourselves up next to the heater. My grandfather is a tough, strong man and refuses to waste anytime by the heater, and instead, prefers to go up to his room and get some work done on the long pedigree chart he is working on. However, my grandmother is rather energetic and chooses to spend her time with the rest of the family as she watches my brother play and destroy one thing or another. My parents catch up on the day's events as my sister and I fool around. If there is load shedding, which is when all the lights are out, then we gather even closer to the heater, sharing jokes and stories with each other and just enjoying out time together as a family.
This is how a perfect day goes by at a perfect home. I love my family just the way it is: ordinary and perfect.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Challenge 43: Time of the Day
237. Describe your favorite time of the day.
The morning. Without question, it is my favorite time of the day. I don't know if its the mood I'm in right now, or if it is the morning sun that I love, or if its the peacefulness of the situation, but I just love the mornings of every day (even Monday), and for a couple of reasons.
Firstly, I love the mornings because I don't have to walk my dog. Because at dorms, I don't own a dog, so I don't have to walk it. Instead, I can set my alarm clock for 6:30 a.m. the next day and wake up at 7 and feel like I have slept in (yes, it can get that pathetic at times). Then I can choose to make it a slow morning where I take a long bath, taking my time getting ready for the day. Then, I can plug in my ears and enjoy the long 30-minute walk up the hill to my school.
Secondly, I like the mornings because my mind is very fresh. I have all the energy I need to start off my day well. I can jump around, get a little reading done, work on little things that I have put off for the night. Or, I can also use the energy to do something productive, like create something new or read some really boring stuff that I'd rather not at night because it is sure to me to sleep.
Thirdly, mornings are great because in the morning, I can decide whether I want to be productive or not. I can choose to sleep in, order lunch from a restaurant while munching on some biscuits, and play games on the computer all day. Or, I can also choose to have an early start, which gets my whole day going. I can read a book, clean up my room, do some homework, and then maybe fool around for sometime.
Fourthly, mornings are also great for spending time with friends or going out in the hillside and spending time with the orphans. Yes, they do offer CARE activities after school on Friday, but it is so much better in the mornings, when the kids are fresh and are eager to do more paintings and learn new things! Also, because the orphanage is situated on top of the hills, it is a perfect place for lunch afterwards with the sunshine providing warmth in the cold winter.
I love the mornings. They are great for a great many things!
The morning. Without question, it is my favorite time of the day. I don't know if its the mood I'm in right now, or if it is the morning sun that I love, or if its the peacefulness of the situation, but I just love the mornings of every day (even Monday), and for a couple of reasons.
Firstly, I love the mornings because I don't have to walk my dog. Because at dorms, I don't own a dog, so I don't have to walk it. Instead, I can set my alarm clock for 6:30 a.m. the next day and wake up at 7 and feel like I have slept in (yes, it can get that pathetic at times). Then I can choose to make it a slow morning where I take a long bath, taking my time getting ready for the day. Then, I can plug in my ears and enjoy the long 30-minute walk up the hill to my school.
Secondly, I like the mornings because my mind is very fresh. I have all the energy I need to start off my day well. I can jump around, get a little reading done, work on little things that I have put off for the night. Or, I can also use the energy to do something productive, like create something new or read some really boring stuff that I'd rather not at night because it is sure to me to sleep.
Thirdly, mornings are great because in the morning, I can decide whether I want to be productive or not. I can choose to sleep in, order lunch from a restaurant while munching on some biscuits, and play games on the computer all day. Or, I can also choose to have an early start, which gets my whole day going. I can read a book, clean up my room, do some homework, and then maybe fool around for sometime.
Fourthly, mornings are also great for spending time with friends or going out in the hillside and spending time with the orphans. Yes, they do offer CARE activities after school on Friday, but it is so much better in the mornings, when the kids are fresh and are eager to do more paintings and learn new things! Also, because the orphanage is situated on top of the hills, it is a perfect place for lunch afterwards with the sunshine providing warmth in the cold winter.
I love the mornings. They are great for a great many things!
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Challenge 42: Paper cranes
If you could change lives with someone
Once in a while, I have a strong urge to decorate my room. I go hunting for things I can hang up, bed sheets I can choose from, or just find posters to stick up. However, I hardly like anything I find, so I try to find something that I myself can create. And what is better than origami? I have to confess that my fingers can't do magic and the best I can do with paper is write on it, draw on it, or make a paper crane out of it.
The first paper crane I ever made was a bright purple one. Simple as it may look, it was a little difficult to fold it correctly so that the edges didn’t look so rugged. However, once I had finished making it and held it in a distant to see the final product, I felt very accomplished and satisfied. I loved the first paper crane I had ever made. Additionally, when I hung it up, it looked marvelous, with its bright purple reflecting off a very luminous shine. Therefore, I made a couple others in bright colors like red, orange, blue, and pink, and hung it alongside the purple paper crane. The colors together looked fantastic and in harmony. As the wind entered my room, the paper cranes danced so gracefully, moving, as if, to the beats of music I couldn't hear. Over the days, the paper cranes hung where I had left them, but soon enough, their colors started wearing off. The paper became fragile and the wings started to slack off, as if the paper cranes themselves were dying. Colorless as they were, they still looked beautiful and held the same pride I myself had when I folded them. As I took them down and put them away safely, I thought about what and excellent purpose these paper cranes had: the purpose of being themselves for the joy of others. For exactly these reasons, if I could swap lives with someone, it would be a beautiful, purple paper crane, hanging somewhere where it brings joy and beauty and holds so much life although it is just paper.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Challenge 41: Rainy Days
230. What do you do on a rainy day?
Cuddle up and read a good book? Yeah, I like that. But, what I really love to do on a rainy day is go outside! Well, of course, if it isn't pouring like there is going to be a rain storm, if such a thing exists, then I would cuddle up and read a good book. But I love the rain. I love how it smells, how it tastes, how it feels against my skin, and how it gently drums my umbrella and leaks through the tiny hole. I like going out in the rain and getting wet.
For the most part, I enjoy the rain because it is soothing and calming and really helps me slow down. Nowadays, I feel like I am rushing a lot, trying to get this done and that said and all that. When I go our in the rain and just stand there, I feel like time has stopped and I just have to stop and enjoy the rain. Sometimes, I pretend that I am in some movie as I throw my head back, spread my hands across, and close my eyes as I feel the raindrops gently landing on my face. (I try and make sure nobody is around during this... scene.) After this episode, when it gets really chilly and I can stay out no longer, I hurry back in to take a good, hot shower. Then, maybe I would cuddle up and read a good book.
Another thing I enjoy doing while it rains is going on a drive. It doesn't have to be a long one, necessarily. I could do well with a short one. And when there is a storm, I feel good inside the car, like I am protected and safe. I look outside the window and see the world outside, and I think about how it would be different if the car wasn't there. I enjoy watching the raindrops race each other from the top of the glass on the window to the bottom, seeing how they mix with each other and become one. At this point too, I feel that cameras rolling and I act like I am in some terribly sad movie, playing the role of a heart-broken character who can only find seem to find pleasure while watching the raindrops on her window.
Listening to the rain is equally entertaining. The pitter-patter raindrops drum the window-pane and I let the sound flow into my ears and put me to sleep. The chilliness coming inside through the open window doesn't bother me at all, but makes me appreciate the warm bed I am in. Then maybe, I listen to some music or watch a sad movie, or I just cuddle up and read a good book!
Cuddle up and read a good book? Yeah, I like that. But, what I really love to do on a rainy day is go outside! Well, of course, if it isn't pouring like there is going to be a rain storm, if such a thing exists, then I would cuddle up and read a good book. But I love the rain. I love how it smells, how it tastes, how it feels against my skin, and how it gently drums my umbrella and leaks through the tiny hole. I like going out in the rain and getting wet.
For the most part, I enjoy the rain because it is soothing and calming and really helps me slow down. Nowadays, I feel like I am rushing a lot, trying to get this done and that said and all that. When I go our in the rain and just stand there, I feel like time has stopped and I just have to stop and enjoy the rain. Sometimes, I pretend that I am in some movie as I throw my head back, spread my hands across, and close my eyes as I feel the raindrops gently landing on my face. (I try and make sure nobody is around during this... scene.) After this episode, when it gets really chilly and I can stay out no longer, I hurry back in to take a good, hot shower. Then, maybe I would cuddle up and read a good book.
Another thing I enjoy doing while it rains is going on a drive. It doesn't have to be a long one, necessarily. I could do well with a short one. And when there is a storm, I feel good inside the car, like I am protected and safe. I look outside the window and see the world outside, and I think about how it would be different if the car wasn't there. I enjoy watching the raindrops race each other from the top of the glass on the window to the bottom, seeing how they mix with each other and become one. At this point too, I feel that cameras rolling and I act like I am in some terribly sad movie, playing the role of a heart-broken character who can only find seem to find pleasure while watching the raindrops on her window.
Listening to the rain is equally entertaining. The pitter-patter raindrops drum the window-pane and I let the sound flow into my ears and put me to sleep. The chilliness coming inside through the open window doesn't bother me at all, but makes me appreciate the warm bed I am in. Then maybe, I listen to some music or watch a sad movie, or I just cuddle up and read a good book!
Challenge 40: Advice to old-me
245. What advice does the teenage-you have for your future 35-year-old self?
Don't get too fat. I know it isn't that important but I have seen older fat people and they don't live an easy life. Exercise a lot and keep yourself in good shape even after you have had kids. Keep your heart running and your brains working because there is still so much you have to do. And look out for junk food because they just come jumping right at you and you will be tempted. Even as a teenager, you are not that great at handling this stuff, so I know that with all the stress and everything, junk food will seem like a break.
Take care of your parents. They say once you grow older, you start to drift away from your parents. But these two people are the ones that love you most and it's important that you love and show that love to them as well. Take Ama around and show her new places because she has always loves traveling and seeing and learning new things. As for Baba, just share your stories and experiences with him and he will be so happy! Also, don't forget to frequently call and visit your siblings. They could be annoying at times, especially when you wanted to do something on your own, but hey, that is how siblings are meant to be! Keep in touch with them and visit them often!
Just have fun in life. Don't be so engrossed in your own work and income that you don't give time for other things, things that are less... complicated, like just reading a book, gardening, or cleaning up the house (that can be fun too!). Go out and enjoy yourself, travel to places, take pictures, make friends, and forget your work till then!
You know how hard it gets when you get old. Sometimes, you feel like you are an absolutely hopeless human being with nothing left. But, you just have to shrug that off and try something else. They say when one door closes, another one opens. And although I know that you are hard-working and dedicated, at some point, something might not go right and you would want to just sit down and quit. Don't do that because this teenage you wants to be successful in life and fulfill as many of her dreams as possible. When one door closes, look for another one, it is just a turn away!
Of course, then there is your family. Take good care of them because they are yours to keep. Raise your kids well, like the way Baba raised you and teach them the same principles and importance of culture and traditions. Bring them to Nepal often and make sure, because this is very, very important, they can speak perfect Nepali. But, also make sure that they take up an instrument or sport that they can really feel passionate about. And love your husband. He is your buddy for life and that's all you got. Keep him close and don't let other things get in between you two.
Lastly, keep trying to eat more vegetables!
Don't get too fat. I know it isn't that important but I have seen older fat people and they don't live an easy life. Exercise a lot and keep yourself in good shape even after you have had kids. Keep your heart running and your brains working because there is still so much you have to do. And look out for junk food because they just come jumping right at you and you will be tempted. Even as a teenager, you are not that great at handling this stuff, so I know that with all the stress and everything, junk food will seem like a break.
Take care of your parents. They say once you grow older, you start to drift away from your parents. But these two people are the ones that love you most and it's important that you love and show that love to them as well. Take Ama around and show her new places because she has always loves traveling and seeing and learning new things. As for Baba, just share your stories and experiences with him and he will be so happy! Also, don't forget to frequently call and visit your siblings. They could be annoying at times, especially when you wanted to do something on your own, but hey, that is how siblings are meant to be! Keep in touch with them and visit them often!
Just have fun in life. Don't be so engrossed in your own work and income that you don't give time for other things, things that are less... complicated, like just reading a book, gardening, or cleaning up the house (that can be fun too!). Go out and enjoy yourself, travel to places, take pictures, make friends, and forget your work till then!
You know how hard it gets when you get old. Sometimes, you feel like you are an absolutely hopeless human being with nothing left. But, you just have to shrug that off and try something else. They say when one door closes, another one opens. And although I know that you are hard-working and dedicated, at some point, something might not go right and you would want to just sit down and quit. Don't do that because this teenage you wants to be successful in life and fulfill as many of her dreams as possible. When one door closes, look for another one, it is just a turn away!
Of course, then there is your family. Take good care of them because they are yours to keep. Raise your kids well, like the way Baba raised you and teach them the same principles and importance of culture and traditions. Bring them to Nepal often and make sure, because this is very, very important, they can speak perfect Nepali. But, also make sure that they take up an instrument or sport that they can really feel passionate about. And love your husband. He is your buddy for life and that's all you got. Keep him close and don't let other things get in between you two.
Lastly, keep trying to eat more vegetables!
Friday, December 23, 2011
Challenge 39: Toilet
211. A special place
Toilet.
Oh, what special place art thou?
A place to call my own,
a place where I can be myself,
whether it is singing while I shower,
or letting the contents of the day leave me in peace.
Toilet.
Why we love thee so much?
The mirror so fantastic, so large,
Reflecting off the many lights in the chamber.
And as I stare at my reflection,
it helps me boost my self-confidence higher.
Toilet.
Oh, the million special things she holds.
From the toilet paper so soft and comforting,
to the shower tub that I can swim in.
The white, shining marbles look so elegant,
and the toilet seat so pleasant.
Toilet.
Oh, how much I miss thee when I am away.
When they take me so far from you,
as the tears on my face gleam like dew.
They tell me I can't visit you,
but rather use the nature so insignificant before you.
Toilet.
Oh, how you help me when I need it.
I can trust you no matter the case,
whether I am troubled in the stomach or the face.
You throw open your door as you see
the desperation, the hurt, and the panting plea.
Toilet.
Oh, what special place art thou?
A place to call my own,
a place where I can be myself,
whether it is singing while I shower,
or letting the contents of the day leave me in peace.
Toilet.
Why we love thee so much?
The mirror so fantastic, so large,
Reflecting off the many lights in the chamber.
And as I stare at my reflection,
it helps me boost my self-confidence higher.
Toilet.
Oh, the million special things she holds.
From the toilet paper so soft and comforting,
to the shower tub that I can swim in.
The white, shining marbles look so elegant,
and the toilet seat so pleasant.
Toilet.
Oh, how much I miss thee when I am away.
When they take me so far from you,
as the tears on my face gleam like dew.
They tell me I can't visit you,
but rather use the nature so insignificant before you.
Toilet.
Oh, how you help me when I need it.
I can trust you no matter the case,
whether I am troubled in the stomach or the face.
You throw open your door as you see
the desperation, the hurt, and the panting plea.
Challenge 38: PROCRASTINATE
232. Ten things you do when you procrastinate.
1. Stumble: Not physically, but in the website. It is amazing what all you can come across in the internet. I go on stumbling, finding new things that I didn't know and discovering tools on the website that are absolutely awesome. (Once, I came across this website where you could scan in your handwriting and write a whole text in your own writing on the computer. Only, the program was already expired so I couldn't try it. But it was pretty cool!)
2. Clean-up: It is the best. You don't want to do your work so you do something else that is productive, like shower! I shower like there is no tomorrow and take my time dressing and making myself more presentable (this usually happens during the weekends). Or tidy up your cupboard that is awfully messy by the middle of the week. And one can also discover all the bits of wonder under one's bed that has been gone for too long, like my missing pair of socks!
3. Watch a movie: Yes, this happens frequently too, as a way of getting away from work. When I have too much work and want it delayed, I just watch a movie so that I don't even have to think about or have time to feel guilty. I just enjoy every bit of the movie and cram up the work later.
4. Sleep in: By the end of the week, I am super tired and although I have a pile of work waiting to be attended to, I sleep in. I shut the windows tight and draw the curtains so that no man or sunlight can disrupt my beauty sleep. Then I pull the covers and fall asleep. Once, I have fallen asleep for 17 hours straight, but that was after Activity Week at our school where they make your poor body and soul work and work until you are left almost lifeless.
5. Do my nails: I have been biting my nails ever since I can remember, and most of the time, they aren't in a good state. So, leaving other, more important (actually, I would give that second thoughts, hmm) things behind, I take out my nail filer and make it the as even as I can. Then, I grab some nail polish and dub it on my fingernails to give them some encouragement to grow faster.
6. Have a good conversation: Sometimes, we are so engrossed in our own private worlds that we forget we live around amazing, intellectually-stimulating people. Therefore, I pick this excellent time to go have a conversation with any of my friends and on whatever subject matter. We talk a little, play some online games together, chat about this and that (perfect time to catch up on the gossip, which I tend to fall behind at sometimes), and just make some good memories. Mind you, these conversations aren't time-wasting, but can be viewed as more of a bonding time between good friends!
7. Cook something: Having been not so responsible in a kitchen (or more like, " Having broken the Thermos and burnt the pot black in a single day"), I have always had to be mindful of the things I do in there. Nevertheless, it is always great to make yourself some lunch even before lunchtime! At dorms, you have to look at for your own meals during the weekends because going to the Dining Hall to eat seems miles and miles away. Therefore, I myself enjoy preparing a good meal (a bowl of noodles, pasta, soup, whatever it be) and eating while sitting on one of those table with my earphones on and reading comics on the internet all at the same time!
8. Call my parents: Adjusting to a boarding school in never that easy, and even after living here for almost six years, I get homesick occasionally. So while I am procrastinating, I quickly run to the second floor to the land-line phone there as I never have my cellphone charged (just a bad habit of mine that not only I, but many other people, hate). I call my parents and talk to my family as time seems to fly by and I don't keep track of it either as that is not something that I am supposed to do. I talk about everything with them, from teachers and friends that are bothering me, to how much the school food sucks and how good (or bad; the case varies from time to time) my Math test went.
9. Read : It is always easy to get lost in the world of fiction and really enjoy the time there. There are several books that I have been meaning to read so what better time than this? Whether it be about a struggling African boy or a crazy asylum, I read anything and everything. Not only a book, but sometimes, I take this time to read other things too, like the articles in the internet, the news (yes, I do!), somebody else's English blog assignment. Just anything. I also read about bands and artists and big people whom I have heard other people talk about but don't know much myself (go Wikipedia!). This time is for learning, mostly anyway.
10. Think: They say it is time for me to pull myself together and start looking at my options to where I want to go for university. So, during this "spare time," I look up colleges that interest me. I learn more about what the requirements are and I compare them to how I am doing right now. I want to think ahead in this matter as it is very important. This makes me think about the majors I should take and, in the bigger picture, what I want to do with my life as a whole. It helps me question if my decisions are right, if I should be heading towards what I am headed for. I think about exactly the kind of person I want to be and what I need to do in order to get there. But when all this gets a little too big, I stand on my bed, open the tiny cupboard overhead, and reach out for the chocolate bar that has been sitting there for too long.
1. Stumble: Not physically, but in the website. It is amazing what all you can come across in the internet. I go on stumbling, finding new things that I didn't know and discovering tools on the website that are absolutely awesome. (Once, I came across this website where you could scan in your handwriting and write a whole text in your own writing on the computer. Only, the program was already expired so I couldn't try it. But it was pretty cool!)
2. Clean-up: It is the best. You don't want to do your work so you do something else that is productive, like shower! I shower like there is no tomorrow and take my time dressing and making myself more presentable (this usually happens during the weekends). Or tidy up your cupboard that is awfully messy by the middle of the week. And one can also discover all the bits of wonder under one's bed that has been gone for too long, like my missing pair of socks!
3. Watch a movie: Yes, this happens frequently too, as a way of getting away from work. When I have too much work and want it delayed, I just watch a movie so that I don't even have to think about or have time to feel guilty. I just enjoy every bit of the movie and cram up the work later.
4. Sleep in: By the end of the week, I am super tired and although I have a pile of work waiting to be attended to, I sleep in. I shut the windows tight and draw the curtains so that no man or sunlight can disrupt my beauty sleep. Then I pull the covers and fall asleep. Once, I have fallen asleep for 17 hours straight, but that was after Activity Week at our school where they make your poor body and soul work and work until you are left almost lifeless.
5. Do my nails: I have been biting my nails ever since I can remember, and most of the time, they aren't in a good state. So, leaving other, more important (actually, I would give that second thoughts, hmm) things behind, I take out my nail filer and make it the as even as I can. Then, I grab some nail polish and dub it on my fingernails to give them some encouragement to grow faster.
6. Have a good conversation: Sometimes, we are so engrossed in our own private worlds that we forget we live around amazing, intellectually-stimulating people. Therefore, I pick this excellent time to go have a conversation with any of my friends and on whatever subject matter. We talk a little, play some online games together, chat about this and that (perfect time to catch up on the gossip, which I tend to fall behind at sometimes), and just make some good memories. Mind you, these conversations aren't time-wasting, but can be viewed as more of a bonding time between good friends!
7. Cook something: Having been not so responsible in a kitchen (or more like, " Having broken the Thermos and burnt the pot black in a single day"), I have always had to be mindful of the things I do in there. Nevertheless, it is always great to make yourself some lunch even before lunchtime! At dorms, you have to look at for your own meals during the weekends because going to the Dining Hall to eat seems miles and miles away. Therefore, I myself enjoy preparing a good meal (a bowl of noodles, pasta, soup, whatever it be) and eating while sitting on one of those table with my earphones on and reading comics on the internet all at the same time!
8. Call my parents: Adjusting to a boarding school in never that easy, and even after living here for almost six years, I get homesick occasionally. So while I am procrastinating, I quickly run to the second floor to the land-line phone there as I never have my cellphone charged (just a bad habit of mine that not only I, but many other people, hate). I call my parents and talk to my family as time seems to fly by and I don't keep track of it either as that is not something that I am supposed to do. I talk about everything with them, from teachers and friends that are bothering me, to how much the school food sucks and how good (or bad; the case varies from time to time) my Math test went.
9. Read : It is always easy to get lost in the world of fiction and really enjoy the time there. There are several books that I have been meaning to read so what better time than this? Whether it be about a struggling African boy or a crazy asylum, I read anything and everything. Not only a book, but sometimes, I take this time to read other things too, like the articles in the internet, the news (yes, I do!), somebody else's English blog assignment. Just anything. I also read about bands and artists and big people whom I have heard other people talk about but don't know much myself (go Wikipedia!). This time is for learning, mostly anyway.
10. Think: They say it is time for me to pull myself together and start looking at my options to where I want to go for university. So, during this "spare time," I look up colleges that interest me. I learn more about what the requirements are and I compare them to how I am doing right now. I want to think ahead in this matter as it is very important. This makes me think about the majors I should take and, in the bigger picture, what I want to do with my life as a whole. It helps me question if my decisions are right, if I should be heading towards what I am headed for. I think about exactly the kind of person I want to be and what I need to do in order to get there. But when all this gets a little too big, I stand on my bed, open the tiny cupboard overhead, and reach out for the chocolate bar that has been sitting there for too long.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Challenge 37: Once, when we...
90. Describe a humorous experience you have had.
Two little, mischievous girls. Nobody would ever predict the things they were capable of. The faces of two angels, so innocent, so bright, and yet, the playful smiles on their faces were all that showed otherwise.
It was like any other school night, and the dorm staff was fast asleep, thinking that the rest of the girls were too. She was old and tired and going off to bed seemed like the only relaxing activity nowadays. As she shut all the bright, yellow lights of the circular hallway of the circular building, leaving just a couple shining the way around, she would have never guessed what would happen long after she had fallen deep asleep.
With the moves of a trained spy, the little girl in her pink pajamas slowly climbed the stairs linking the two floors together. She looked around nervously, afraid that somebody would see her. She tiptoed into her friend's room and sneaked up to the bottom bunk bed of her poor victim. In an unfamiliar language, she whispered, "Girl! Wake up. Hey. Get up now!"
The girl on the bed (me) had had a very rough day and didn't want her sleep to be disrupted so soon. Her eyes opened and she looked at her friend in surprise, as their meeting had not been discussed previously. "What are you doing here? I want to sleep."
"No! Get up. Lets do something fun!"
Now, the "fun" that this girl described could mean a lot of things: start dancing in the middle of the night, take a cold bath, eat junk food when strictly prohibited, wake the others up, or take twenty runs of the hallway. However, what she really meant was something so much more ... well, fun (and very mischievous, I might add)!
With one goal in mind, the two girls sneaked into the kitchen which did not have a door, so lock-picking was not necessary (unlike another time in someone's birthday, but more on that some other time). They took a cold, steel cup from the rack and filled it up with cold water. Giggling obnoxiously, they went back into the room. Sleeping peacefully on her bed, surrounded with toys, and looking oh-so-comfortable was another girl. To the two girls, it looked like the Sleeping Beauty would not be waking up from her deep, deep sleep.
As they headed towards her bed, the giggling got louder and they hushed each other. One of the girls, the one with the cup, leaned in closer, took the pink pinkie of the girl sleeping and dipped it in the cold water. Pause. Now, I should probably tell you what they were up to because unless you have tried this trick yourself, you wouldn't know. They wanted to do a silly, silly thing: they wanted to make the little girl pee in her bed by dipping her pinkie in the water!
Only, it didn't happen. As soon as they had taken her pinkie, she had woken up with a word so awfully appropriate for this situation: "What?" It was blunt and short and sent another round of giggles around the two.
We laughed and fooled around a bit more. As I saw my friend away and climbed into the comfort of my warm bed, I would have never imagined that I would ever retell the story four years later. It was a good laugh and all fun, but what was more important was that, although childish and silly, the memory lasted with me. And that is one of the best things I have gotten out of living in a boarding school: the opportunities I have to make countless memories and everlasting friendships that are going to stay with me for, well, for ever!
Two little, mischievous girls. Nobody would ever predict the things they were capable of. The faces of two angels, so innocent, so bright, and yet, the playful smiles on their faces were all that showed otherwise.
It was like any other school night, and the dorm staff was fast asleep, thinking that the rest of the girls were too. She was old and tired and going off to bed seemed like the only relaxing activity nowadays. As she shut all the bright, yellow lights of the circular hallway of the circular building, leaving just a couple shining the way around, she would have never guessed what would happen long after she had fallen deep asleep.
With the moves of a trained spy, the little girl in her pink pajamas slowly climbed the stairs linking the two floors together. She looked around nervously, afraid that somebody would see her. She tiptoed into her friend's room and sneaked up to the bottom bunk bed of her poor victim. In an unfamiliar language, she whispered, "Girl! Wake up. Hey. Get up now!"
The girl on the bed (me) had had a very rough day and didn't want her sleep to be disrupted so soon. Her eyes opened and she looked at her friend in surprise, as their meeting had not been discussed previously. "What are you doing here? I want to sleep."
"No! Get up. Lets do something fun!"
Now, the "fun" that this girl described could mean a lot of things: start dancing in the middle of the night, take a cold bath, eat junk food when strictly prohibited, wake the others up, or take twenty runs of the hallway. However, what she really meant was something so much more ... well, fun (and very mischievous, I might add)!
With one goal in mind, the two girls sneaked into the kitchen which did not have a door, so lock-picking was not necessary (unlike another time in someone's birthday, but more on that some other time). They took a cold, steel cup from the rack and filled it up with cold water. Giggling obnoxiously, they went back into the room. Sleeping peacefully on her bed, surrounded with toys, and looking oh-so-comfortable was another girl. To the two girls, it looked like the Sleeping Beauty would not be waking up from her deep, deep sleep.
As they headed towards her bed, the giggling got louder and they hushed each other. One of the girls, the one with the cup, leaned in closer, took the pink pinkie of the girl sleeping and dipped it in the cold water. Pause. Now, I should probably tell you what they were up to because unless you have tried this trick yourself, you wouldn't know. They wanted to do a silly, silly thing: they wanted to make the little girl pee in her bed by dipping her pinkie in the water!
Only, it didn't happen. As soon as they had taken her pinkie, she had woken up with a word so awfully appropriate for this situation: "What?" It was blunt and short and sent another round of giggles around the two.
We laughed and fooled around a bit more. As I saw my friend away and climbed into the comfort of my warm bed, I would have never imagined that I would ever retell the story four years later. It was a good laugh and all fun, but what was more important was that, although childish and silly, the memory lasted with me. And that is one of the best things I have gotten out of living in a boarding school: the opportunities I have to make countless memories and everlasting friendships that are going to stay with me for, well, for ever!
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Challenge 36: Fear
208. How you overcame a fear.
Having gotten a C+ on my very first assignment, I was absolutely discouraged when the teacher told us that we would be having our first, graded oral presentations. Now I know, as well as anybody else, that I cannot speak confidently in public. Even when it came to class discussions, I tried to fulfill just the minimum requirement. Also, having two excellent speakers sitting right next to me, I couldn't have imagined what would be worse.
Our teacher told us that we had two or three days to prepare a presentation about anything we felt passionate about. Now I have to admit that I am quite an environment-friendly person. In the future, I hope to make some difference to the negative impacts and their results in our environment. And for something that I felt so passionately about, I was, at first, very ready to speak about it.
That evening, I stood in front of the larger window of my bedroom at dorms, and looked at my reflection. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine exactly what I would say in order to get my message across. I knew that the only way I could overcome this fear was practice. I would practice and practice so much that the words would flow elegantly out of my mouth while making absolute sense. So I stood there, for an hour or two, and wrote down on a small piece of paper an outline that would help me. I practiced the introduction very well, as I was quite excited to bang my fist on the table right in front of the class, look up with glaring eyes, and begin a strong speech.
When the day came, I was worried and nervous. Scared that I would screw up somehow. My teacher, to be fair, let us draw numbers from a bag in order to see who would go today or tomorrow. I nervously inserted my hand inside the pouch and drew out a piece of paper. With my two friends anxiously leaning over me to see what I had gotten, I nervously unfolded the paper to see that I had gotten number 2. This meant that I would go the next day. As the relief washed over me, my hands stopped shaking as did my legs. I sat back sheepishly, enjoying the state of my many nervous friends. As I was getting used to the idea of getting more practice, the teacher came up to me and asked if I would mind going today because a boy had not prepared for today and wanted to go tomorrow. Hating the feeling of giving in, I told her I could go today. As I became nervous again, I started reciting the speech inside my head, hoping desperately that I hadn't forgotten anything.
When my turn came, I nervously walked up to the front of the class. As the teacher said "Ready when you are," I closed my eyes for a second and took a long breath. I opened my eyes. The faces of classmates seem to engulf my attention as their faces because curious and ready for me to begin. When I was ready, I realized that the front table was too far away to start my frightening introduction. Giving up on that thought, I began, "Trash, trash, trash. Why is there so much trash? Is it because..."
I spoke for three whole minutes, peering from face to face, really trying to get my message across. I remember even looking out the window, at the trees outside, and almost losing my train of thought! As I finished my conclusion, I let of a great sign and felt grateful for the support my friends gave with their slow, yet encouraging applause.
Other than the A I got on my speech, I did get something else out of the assignment. I understood that I just needed to practice, to be familiar with what I am saying, and public speaking wouldn't be so bad after all. I can't say that I completely overcame my fear of public speaking that day, but I can say that I found a way around it.
Having gotten a C+ on my very first assignment, I was absolutely discouraged when the teacher told us that we would be having our first, graded oral presentations. Now I know, as well as anybody else, that I cannot speak confidently in public. Even when it came to class discussions, I tried to fulfill just the minimum requirement. Also, having two excellent speakers sitting right next to me, I couldn't have imagined what would be worse.
Our teacher told us that we had two or three days to prepare a presentation about anything we felt passionate about. Now I have to admit that I am quite an environment-friendly person. In the future, I hope to make some difference to the negative impacts and their results in our environment. And for something that I felt so passionately about, I was, at first, very ready to speak about it.
That evening, I stood in front of the larger window of my bedroom at dorms, and looked at my reflection. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine exactly what I would say in order to get my message across. I knew that the only way I could overcome this fear was practice. I would practice and practice so much that the words would flow elegantly out of my mouth while making absolute sense. So I stood there, for an hour or two, and wrote down on a small piece of paper an outline that would help me. I practiced the introduction very well, as I was quite excited to bang my fist on the table right in front of the class, look up with glaring eyes, and begin a strong speech.
When the day came, I was worried and nervous. Scared that I would screw up somehow. My teacher, to be fair, let us draw numbers from a bag in order to see who would go today or tomorrow. I nervously inserted my hand inside the pouch and drew out a piece of paper. With my two friends anxiously leaning over me to see what I had gotten, I nervously unfolded the paper to see that I had gotten number 2. This meant that I would go the next day. As the relief washed over me, my hands stopped shaking as did my legs. I sat back sheepishly, enjoying the state of my many nervous friends. As I was getting used to the idea of getting more practice, the teacher came up to me and asked if I would mind going today because a boy had not prepared for today and wanted to go tomorrow. Hating the feeling of giving in, I told her I could go today. As I became nervous again, I started reciting the speech inside my head, hoping desperately that I hadn't forgotten anything.
When my turn came, I nervously walked up to the front of the class. As the teacher said "Ready when you are," I closed my eyes for a second and took a long breath. I opened my eyes. The faces of classmates seem to engulf my attention as their faces because curious and ready for me to begin. When I was ready, I realized that the front table was too far away to start my frightening introduction. Giving up on that thought, I began, "Trash, trash, trash. Why is there so much trash? Is it because..."
I spoke for three whole minutes, peering from face to face, really trying to get my message across. I remember even looking out the window, at the trees outside, and almost losing my train of thought! As I finished my conclusion, I let of a great sign and felt grateful for the support my friends gave with their slow, yet encouraging applause.
Other than the A I got on my speech, I did get something else out of the assignment. I understood that I just needed to practice, to be familiar with what I am saying, and public speaking wouldn't be so bad after all. I can't say that I completely overcame my fear of public speaking that day, but I can say that I found a way around it.
Challenge 35. Things Lost
221. Your biggest loss
As a child, I took the poster of Ariel and copied it down exactly onto a blank piece of white paper. I tried to match the colors exactly the way they were and trace the lines as accurately as possible. No matter how hard I tried, it never looked the same. I was disappointed. I cried. My mother would run to be, take me in her arms, and rock me till I fell asleep. I would wake up later, having forgotten what had happened, and would sit down and try again.
When I feel off the bike, I would scrape my knee and lay there, being the dramatic child I was, and cry but act like a hero with a long, red cloth hanging from his shoulders. I would get up, run to my mother, and ask me to apply some Dettol, with cotton and everything just to look important.
When I scored high in my papers, I would have a winning smile on my face. I would show it to all my friends and shine in their admiration, without feeling the tiniest bit of guilt or shame for having showed-off. Even when I would fail again, I would still be happy of my previous accomplishments.
When my sister and I walked home from school, the scary shoe-man from the side of the road would call us. I would repeat the phrase "Don't talk to strangers" in my head, grab my little sister's hand, and walk briskly back home.
When there was a family gathering, they would ask me to sing and dance, while all of them sat back and relaxed. I would walk up confidently and dance to the beats of their clapping, while twirling around all on my own.
When I was taken to the library, I would pick out the books with large pictures. I would sit on the comfortable couch and flip through the pages, trying to make the illustrations real and become a part of it myself.
When it was Children's Day at my school, I would ask my mom to make me a dress just like the one Miss Nepal wore. With that height of honor and pleasure, I would walk into the school, feeling like a queen, with the green silk glowing majestically in the sunlight.
But, when I gave my first art exam, things started to seem different. I drew hills, and trees, and flowers, and a river, and also a sun with a big, smiling face. However, in front of the class, I heard the teacher scold another child for drawing a smiling face of the sun. She screamed, "Do you really thing the sun can smile?" Reality seemed to struck that day as I quickly erased the smiling face from mine.
All these things, the little things that are shown in these childish events, I have lost: the curiosity, the amazement, the confidence, the importance I felt, and the mind to take chances and to never give up. Reality seemed to have struck me as I drew away from my childhood. It became harder to be confident in front of a group of people and more difficult not to just thrown my hands into the air and admit that I can't do this anymore. I don't mean that I am a completely hopeless human being at present. No. I mean that these qualities became harder to enhance once I grew up. And other things started to matter more: what I wore, how I looked, what people thought, and things that really shouldn't bother me at all. So everyday, I try to gain back the innocence and the beauty of childhood and hope that I can take these qualities away from my childhood and into adulthood.
As a child, I took the poster of Ariel and copied it down exactly onto a blank piece of white paper. I tried to match the colors exactly the way they were and trace the lines as accurately as possible. No matter how hard I tried, it never looked the same. I was disappointed. I cried. My mother would run to be, take me in her arms, and rock me till I fell asleep. I would wake up later, having forgotten what had happened, and would sit down and try again.
When I feel off the bike, I would scrape my knee and lay there, being the dramatic child I was, and cry but act like a hero with a long, red cloth hanging from his shoulders. I would get up, run to my mother, and ask me to apply some Dettol, with cotton and everything just to look important.
When I scored high in my papers, I would have a winning smile on my face. I would show it to all my friends and shine in their admiration, without feeling the tiniest bit of guilt or shame for having showed-off. Even when I would fail again, I would still be happy of my previous accomplishments.
When my sister and I walked home from school, the scary shoe-man from the side of the road would call us. I would repeat the phrase "Don't talk to strangers" in my head, grab my little sister's hand, and walk briskly back home.
When there was a family gathering, they would ask me to sing and dance, while all of them sat back and relaxed. I would walk up confidently and dance to the beats of their clapping, while twirling around all on my own.
When I was taken to the library, I would pick out the books with large pictures. I would sit on the comfortable couch and flip through the pages, trying to make the illustrations real and become a part of it myself.
When it was Children's Day at my school, I would ask my mom to make me a dress just like the one Miss Nepal wore. With that height of honor and pleasure, I would walk into the school, feeling like a queen, with the green silk glowing majestically in the sunlight.
But, when I gave my first art exam, things started to seem different. I drew hills, and trees, and flowers, and a river, and also a sun with a big, smiling face. However, in front of the class, I heard the teacher scold another child for drawing a smiling face of the sun. She screamed, "Do you really thing the sun can smile?" Reality seemed to struck that day as I quickly erased the smiling face from mine.
All these things, the little things that are shown in these childish events, I have lost: the curiosity, the amazement, the confidence, the importance I felt, and the mind to take chances and to never give up. Reality seemed to have struck me as I drew away from my childhood. It became harder to be confident in front of a group of people and more difficult not to just thrown my hands into the air and admit that I can't do this anymore. I don't mean that I am a completely hopeless human being at present. No. I mean that these qualities became harder to enhance once I grew up. And other things started to matter more: what I wore, how I looked, what people thought, and things that really shouldn't bother me at all. So everyday, I try to gain back the innocence and the beauty of childhood and hope that I can take these qualities away from my childhood and into adulthood.
Challenge 34: I'm not listening.
246. What I think about when I'm not listening.
I think about...
How my hair feels oily because I haven't showered today.
How her mouth moves so much that I feel like I am watching her in a fast-forward motion.
How the tips of my fingers are cold from the chilly weather.
How her hands move animatedly as the anger is visible from her brows.
How the frames of my glasses limit what I can see.
How I could almost imagine the letters bubbling out of her mouth.
How my mouth is slightly open while I try to catch the words she is saying.
How the sky is such a clear blue today.
How the sun is gently playing with her brown, dyed hair and creating a yellow glow.
How she seems to blur in front of me as I focus into the distance.
How many times I am blinking.
How my legs are aching and how badly I wish to sit down.
How long this is going to last.
How I have to finish that assignment I am detesting.
How the flowers on the rooftop of the house across are shining, almost like plastic.
How I keep nodding though I don't really listen to what she is saying.
How I can taste the dryness of my mouth because I haven't spoken for so long.
How the smile is playing at my lips because I know I should be listening.
How her teeth seem to enlarge as she bends down towards me in anger.
How I can slowly see that she is getting tired of scolding me.
How this is finally coming to an end.
How life will be different 20 years from now if I had listened to her.
How she throws her arms in a jerky motion into the air; a sign of finally giving up.
How she sits down on the couch, close to tears.
How my legs are moving automatically towards her.
How I sit down calmly next to her and put my arms around her.
How, although I am a good daughter, I am happy that it is finally over.
I think about...
How my hair feels oily because I haven't showered today.
How her mouth moves so much that I feel like I am watching her in a fast-forward motion.
How the tips of my fingers are cold from the chilly weather.
How her hands move animatedly as the anger is visible from her brows.
How the frames of my glasses limit what I can see.
How I could almost imagine the letters bubbling out of her mouth.
How my mouth is slightly open while I try to catch the words she is saying.
How the sky is such a clear blue today.
How the sun is gently playing with her brown, dyed hair and creating a yellow glow.
How she seems to blur in front of me as I focus into the distance.
How many times I am blinking.
How my legs are aching and how badly I wish to sit down.
How long this is going to last.
How I have to finish that assignment I am detesting.
How the flowers on the rooftop of the house across are shining, almost like plastic.
How I keep nodding though I don't really listen to what she is saying.
How I can taste the dryness of my mouth because I haven't spoken for so long.
How the smile is playing at my lips because I know I should be listening.
How her teeth seem to enlarge as she bends down towards me in anger.
How I can slowly see that she is getting tired of scolding me.
How this is finally coming to an end.
How life will be different 20 years from now if I had listened to her.
How she throws her arms in a jerky motion into the air; a sign of finally giving up.
How she sits down on the couch, close to tears.
How my legs are moving automatically towards her.
How I sit down calmly next to her and put my arms around her.
How, although I am a good daughter, I am happy that it is finally over.
Challenge 33: Gifts
240. Is it better to give or receive gifts?
The tiny box wrapped in shiny pink paper with beautiful, white circles awaited me. It was my birthday present from my parents, for I had turned eleven. Feeling like an adult, I tried really hard to wipe out the excitement from my face, although I knew that as soon as I was alone, I would rip out the wrapping and engulf myself in what lay inside the box. It didn't matter to me as I child what lay inside. The part I enjoyed most was the excitement that rushed through me as I guessed so many times what gift could be waiting for me just a fold away! As I grew older, my mother asked me what I wanted and said that she would get that for my birthday. I refused, quite childishly, I admit. I didn't want to ruin the surprise for myself. Whatever the gift was, it didn't matter. As long as it was wrapped with a ribbon on, I was happy.
This is what gifts means to me: the excitement. Other than the surprise, I love receiving gifts because I get to see how the other person thinks of me. If it is a beautiful, navy blue pen, then I become a writer. If it is a long, colorful scarf, then I become a complainer. If it is a book that I had been longing for, then I become a passionate reader. If it is an iPod that I had wanted since quite some time ago, I become patient. If it is a statue of two little houses with two names scribbled in blue ink at the bottom, then I become a friend. If it is a notebook with large characters in its cover, I become an artist. If it is a key chain with an outlandish yet cute animal hanging from it, then I am accepted the way I am. If it is a hair tie with a pretty, yellow flower with colorful polka dots, I become an amiable person. If it is just a notebook with beautiful flowers in red, blue, and yellow, then I become doodler or a scribbler. These gifts show what I appear to be to the person giving it. And this not only delights me, but also lets me know what kind of a person I am to other people.
The tiny box wrapped in shiny pink paper with beautiful, white circles awaited me. It was my birthday present from my parents, for I had turned eleven. Feeling like an adult, I tried really hard to wipe out the excitement from my face, although I knew that as soon as I was alone, I would rip out the wrapping and engulf myself in what lay inside the box. It didn't matter to me as I child what lay inside. The part I enjoyed most was the excitement that rushed through me as I guessed so many times what gift could be waiting for me just a fold away! As I grew older, my mother asked me what I wanted and said that she would get that for my birthday. I refused, quite childishly, I admit. I didn't want to ruin the surprise for myself. Whatever the gift was, it didn't matter. As long as it was wrapped with a ribbon on, I was happy.
This is what gifts means to me: the excitement. Other than the surprise, I love receiving gifts because I get to see how the other person thinks of me. If it is a beautiful, navy blue pen, then I become a writer. If it is a long, colorful scarf, then I become a complainer. If it is a book that I had been longing for, then I become a passionate reader. If it is an iPod that I had wanted since quite some time ago, I become patient. If it is a statue of two little houses with two names scribbled in blue ink at the bottom, then I become a friend. If it is a notebook with large characters in its cover, I become an artist. If it is a key chain with an outlandish yet cute animal hanging from it, then I am accepted the way I am. If it is a hair tie with a pretty, yellow flower with colorful polka dots, I become an amiable person. If it is just a notebook with beautiful flowers in red, blue, and yellow, then I become doodler or a scribbler. These gifts show what I appear to be to the person giving it. And this not only delights me, but also lets me know what kind of a person I am to other people.
Challenge 32: HERO
168. Imagine that you are a "hero" or "heroine" for one day during any time period and under any circumstances. Write a creative essay describing your experience. (Notre Dame)
It is around midday. I am sitting in the armchair that is clothed with red silk and decorated with green cushions. I am reading a book. The book is very interesting and is helping me gain knowledge about the world that existed so long ago. I see that I have read thirty pages in one hour. I am quite pleased at myself, seeing how the writing on the old, yellow pages are just so tiny. As tiny as ants, in fact. Although my mind starts to wonder off, I pull it right back and continue reading about the young African boy who has just found out that his headmaster had lied to him. REVENGE is all he can think right now. I imagine what I would do if someone betrayed me like that. I would probably want revenge too. Does that make me a bad person? Hm. I continue to wonder.
As the book slips off my hand and I stare into the distant pink wall bathed so elegantly in the bright, yellow sunlight, I notice something. Something that I could have sworn wasn't there previously. I thrown the book down and move swiftly across the room and towards the wall. My eyes are narrowed, my mouth open, and my hands gliding helpless in the air. I feel almost like I am floating. As I get closer to the wall, I see it. On the polished ground, just where the soft pink of the wall and the shiny brown of the polished wood meet, there is a living thing. A breathing thing, that has life just like me. It is lying there, with the appearance of a rock, although I can tell that it is breathing, very heavily. I bend down on my knees and bring my face very close to this peculiar object. I notice the thin feather-like substance that is covering every bit of this creature. As it rolls, I see two beady, delicate, brown balls, which I imagine are the eyes, on a head so small that I could circle it with my two fingers. The little eyes are crying for help and I can see them slowly shutting, meaning to close forever. As it rolls once more, I see two out-stretched wing-like things, which I assume are, of course, used to fly with. There seems to be bright, red paint smeared on of the wings and the contrasting brown of the feather tells me that something is not right.
Having never encountered such an alien object, it crosses my mind to call somebody else, someone who would know better. However, I want to handle this on my own. I delicately stretch my hands out and gather the helpless fellow in my hands. I take it back to the armchair and rest it there, while I go fetch some medicine. We usually don't have one around, but surprisingly, I see one lying right inside the cabinet. I hurry back, hoping desperately that I am not too late. I play with the medication and try to put everything I had learned in my classes into use. The little ball of feathers already starts to look better. And just like that, I feel like I am a superhero who has saved the day.
It is around midday. I am sitting in the armchair that is clothed with red silk and decorated with green cushions. I am reading a book. The book is very interesting and is helping me gain knowledge about the world that existed so long ago. I see that I have read thirty pages in one hour. I am quite pleased at myself, seeing how the writing on the old, yellow pages are just so tiny. As tiny as ants, in fact. Although my mind starts to wonder off, I pull it right back and continue reading about the young African boy who has just found out that his headmaster had lied to him. REVENGE is all he can think right now. I imagine what I would do if someone betrayed me like that. I would probably want revenge too. Does that make me a bad person? Hm. I continue to wonder.
As the book slips off my hand and I stare into the distant pink wall bathed so elegantly in the bright, yellow sunlight, I notice something. Something that I could have sworn wasn't there previously. I thrown the book down and move swiftly across the room and towards the wall. My eyes are narrowed, my mouth open, and my hands gliding helpless in the air. I feel almost like I am floating. As I get closer to the wall, I see it. On the polished ground, just where the soft pink of the wall and the shiny brown of the polished wood meet, there is a living thing. A breathing thing, that has life just like me. It is lying there, with the appearance of a rock, although I can tell that it is breathing, very heavily. I bend down on my knees and bring my face very close to this peculiar object. I notice the thin feather-like substance that is covering every bit of this creature. As it rolls, I see two beady, delicate, brown balls, which I imagine are the eyes, on a head so small that I could circle it with my two fingers. The little eyes are crying for help and I can see them slowly shutting, meaning to close forever. As it rolls once more, I see two out-stretched wing-like things, which I assume are, of course, used to fly with. There seems to be bright, red paint smeared on of the wings and the contrasting brown of the feather tells me that something is not right.
Having never encountered such an alien object, it crosses my mind to call somebody else, someone who would know better. However, I want to handle this on my own. I delicately stretch my hands out and gather the helpless fellow in my hands. I take it back to the armchair and rest it there, while I go fetch some medicine. We usually don't have one around, but surprisingly, I see one lying right inside the cabinet. I hurry back, hoping desperately that I am not too late. I play with the medication and try to put everything I had learned in my classes into use. The little ball of feathers already starts to look better. And just like that, I feel like I am a superhero who has saved the day.
Challenge 31: Confusion
165. What confuses you most in life, and why? (University of Virginia)
As an elder sister of two siblings, I am usually the role model in the family. However, when in comes to attitude and reactions to things that bother me, I have to admit my sister handles it better. For example, when I have a headache, my whole day is ruined. I cannot function and I just have to lay down and do nothing. I get grumpy and annoyed at little things and become quite selfish, I admit.I ruin my day as well as everyone else's. My sister, on the other hand, can handle an insignificant thing like a headache way better than me. Although the pain is bothering her, she will shrug it off, put a smile on her face, and move on with her life. But I can't do the same. Why can't I? Well, because I don't want to shrug off something that is bothering me, and instead, I want to see to it that I get a painkiller. And that is the difference between us. When it comes to situations like these where the attitude is concerned, rather than the problem itself, my sister can handle it better. However, does that mean that I have to change the way I am in order to approach life the way my sister does? They say, "Why can't you be more like your sister?" Well, no, I can't. And I won't change my attitude just to match my sister's. Yes, maybe I do need to keep in mind that I am taking up somebody else's time and being rather pessimistic, but is asking to be cared for too much? Usually, people get annoyed at me for being grumpy and inconsiderate. They think that I am just wasting my time complaining and that it is bothering them. This is where I get confused. Why can't I express my pessimistic side? Why can't I get to be angry or mad or frustrated or annoyed? Why are other people so bothered by them anyway? These are my emotions too, and I should be able to express them, right? And being cynical at times is good because I am expressing what I am feeling and am not trying to hide it. I want to show that I am bothered, that I am uncomfortable, and that I do not like way things are going. I want to express my feelings because being cynical or any other negative emotion is a part of me, whether everyone likes it or not. And because I am the one who gets to control my own emotions, I will choose to express them or not, no matter the case.
As an elder sister of two siblings, I am usually the role model in the family. However, when in comes to attitude and reactions to things that bother me, I have to admit my sister handles it better. For example, when I have a headache, my whole day is ruined. I cannot function and I just have to lay down and do nothing. I get grumpy and annoyed at little things and become quite selfish, I admit.I ruin my day as well as everyone else's. My sister, on the other hand, can handle an insignificant thing like a headache way better than me. Although the pain is bothering her, she will shrug it off, put a smile on her face, and move on with her life. But I can't do the same. Why can't I? Well, because I don't want to shrug off something that is bothering me, and instead, I want to see to it that I get a painkiller. And that is the difference between us. When it comes to situations like these where the attitude is concerned, rather than the problem itself, my sister can handle it better. However, does that mean that I have to change the way I am in order to approach life the way my sister does? They say, "Why can't you be more like your sister?" Well, no, I can't. And I won't change my attitude just to match my sister's. Yes, maybe I do need to keep in mind that I am taking up somebody else's time and being rather pessimistic, but is asking to be cared for too much? Usually, people get annoyed at me for being grumpy and inconsiderate. They think that I am just wasting my time complaining and that it is bothering them. This is where I get confused. Why can't I express my pessimistic side? Why can't I get to be angry or mad or frustrated or annoyed? Why are other people so bothered by them anyway? These are my emotions too, and I should be able to express them, right? And being cynical at times is good because I am expressing what I am feeling and am not trying to hide it. I want to show that I am bothered, that I am uncomfortable, and that I do not like way things are going. I want to express my feelings because being cynical or any other negative emotion is a part of me, whether everyone likes it or not. And because I am the one who gets to control my own emotions, I will choose to express them or not, no matter the case.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Challenge 30: Name
150. Names have a mysterious reality of their own. We may well feel an unexpected kinship with someone who shares our name, or may feel uneasy at the thought that our name is not as much our own as we imagined. Most of us do not choose our names; they come to us unbidden, sometimes with ungainly sounds and spellings, complicated family histories, allusions to people we never knew. Sometimes we have to make our peace with them, sometimes we bask in our names' associations. Ruminate on names and naming, your name, and your name's relationship to you. (University of Chicago)
We are all born. We are all given different names. Names give us a sense of identity. Names are what we all associate our personal selves with. Names can also originate from different languages. However, one name can mean many different things, like "Maya," which means different things in different languages. My grade school friends used to make fun of my name. They used to call me "Antenna" instead of "Athena." My father loved that Greek name and gave it to me as a second name, especially for when foreigners couldn't pronounce my Nepali name and said my name with a special stress on the "d," which is something that gets me red and glaring. Anyway, it was slightly odd to have a Greek name, knowing that I had not connections with it, whatsoever. Because of this, and because of the torture from my tiny friends, I decided to drop the name and went by "Bidushi" instead.
I have never met anybody with the same name as I. So, although I know there are people with the same name, I like to make myself feel unique for having a unique name. Now, my friends still tease me with my name, calling me all sorts of things that may not be appropriate to mention. However, even if I had a third name, I wouldn't drop this name. I have grown into this name, made it a part of myself, and strongly try to base my personality around it. "Bidushi," in Sanskrit, mean an intelligent woman. Every time I think of its meaning, I remember what my grandmother always says to me before I part for school: "Nanu, live up to the name your father has given you. Do your family proud." As I child, I didn't take this so seriously (just my grandmother being elderly), but as a teen, I try my best to live up to this name. An intelligent, independent woman who stands on her own two feet and doesn't need to rely on anybody. That's what I aim for.
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