I had never really aimed at being ‘different’. I had only wanted to be inconspicuous. Like the birds and animals that visit my garden. With bodies that borrow the tones of the earth, they easily blend into the dull brown and grey of their surroundings.

There are those hopping birds that visit my garden every evening when the sun begins to set. A squirrel that lives somewhere on the roof of my house, makes its appearance, taking small sniffs as it contemplates its steps. Encouraged by the sight of these birds, it takes quick steps and joins the flock. From a distance, they all look alike for they have the same skin tones. The birds are now busy hunting for tiny worms or millipedes that might be crawling beneath the bushes and trees. They take no notice of the squirrel. The squirrel, secure in its camouflage, hunts for seeds or grains that might be lying about. I sit really still for I do not wish to disrupt the integrity of their world. This is the world I love and understand. These creatures are busy in their individual pursuits, totally oblivious to each other…

And yet, there is a silent understanding among them- an unspoken regard for each other that maintains the integrity of their world.



As human beings, we all have our individual motivations, passions and goals. So aren’t we supposed to be in happy pursuit of these? Instead, we are forever judging each other and attracting attention to ourselves in what is nothing short of narcissism. Why can’t we peacefully coexist, like these beautiful creatures do?

I have never really craved to be the object of attention nor have I craved for applause. I have always loved my anonymity the most- the freedom to just be. I have been most comfortable secluding myself where no one can find me-

Where I can smell the roses in the garden…

Where I can be kissed by the breeze…

Where I can have endless conversations with the sky.

I would rather be the touch-me-not that grows in the wild, obscured by the wilderness, than be the lotus that stands conspicuously in the middle of the pond. I would rather be a part of the shadows of dusk and watch the lights in the distance, than stand conspicuously under the lights on the dais. It is in this camouflage that I am happiest.

It is not when people look at me that I am happiest; it is when they fail to see me as distinct that I am happiest. I am happy when a nomadic girl in all her raw and unrefined beauty can still find something of herself in me. To me, that is a far greater compliment than being told that I am beautiful. I am happy when an animal or bird walks past me, not in the least perturbed by my presence. I am happy when a child fails to see the adult in me and lets me into the world that he or she carefully guards.

If only every human being woke up to the fact that the most beautiful vision of the world is not when the lights are on us, but when they are on everything that surrounds us, the world would be a beautiful place to live in! Only then can we really see the world for what it is and be enthralled by it. Only then can we be in love with the world and with our own selves. It is only when we reflect the beauty of this world that we become beautiful!