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Quest for inspiration and My mother

Amongst all the many daunting things that are the only stimulating stories of my immensely ordinary life and as much as it yet again humiliates me to start my article with an “I” as the main character as I more often do, its regretting to confess that “I” doubtlessly always find myself seeking for an inspiration and often, while taking decisions, a role model, for I feel that I lack aspiring people around me. Having said all that I have said so far, please do not think of me without the realization that I ought to find inspiration from the hardship and the circumstantial environ that most grippingly plays a significant role in what I can become of me. And I also should insist upon not thinking of me without passion for writing for I simply adore and admire the power of words. All that I can say in my defense is that inspiration doesn’t come so easily because if it were, then one wouldn’t have to go to the deepest and the darkest corners of life to understand the depths of things. This very thing is the concrete topic for me in this article. The inspirations, it saddens me to declare, which have forsaken me and hence left me devoid of imaginations, the joy, the limitless possibilities of my enthused passion.

The apathy of time and the state of my present being has, however ironically, obliged me to jot down this very article about inspiration. I shan’t dwell on the reasons that have led me to this still moment of lethargy or simply a state of laziness, an uninspiring feeling! On the contrary, the order of the page shall be about some of the inspiring women in my life who as unconsciously as it is done, seem to make quite a difference to my well being.

It doesn’t seem so far behind to recall, whenever I came across any sort of inspiring or uninspiring event, my last resort would be summoning up my entire article worth description in a single line as my Facebook status. For which later on, I would be on the desperate wait for the comments to arrive. The wait would prove to be very unsatisfying and the comments inevitably futile to my knowledge and conscience. It gave me no wisdom! Therefore, I sought to my oldest friend. Writing my journals has always given me an ocean of thoughts to swim across, a wide meadow of field to play around and a fierce conclusion to my confusions. Fittingly, I behold the possibilities of my conquest today too and begin my journey towards the one word that holds the power of change in my life.

The journey begins with the most inspirational woman of my life. My mother! She, it undermines my repetitive ability to whine about my placate life to admit, is the profound solace to my endurances, that whatever discomfort that I go through in my day to day life is nothing compared to what she had to and still does endure every second of every day. Even so her philosophy may be deemed conservative and traditional at many a times, she cannot be categorized as those who don’t know the meaning of change. She is an exemplary illustration of a hardened strong woman who has practically made it her habit to sacrifice almost all her happiness to keep her offspring’s away from the harm’s way and also to give them all the opportunities there is. Whenever I asked her about her childhood, she would actually smile and give me the account of her hard engraved journey to life that she has lived so far. All I feel is a sheer amazement to how she can recall her history of destitute with such a light expression so much as to actually smile about it!! She is an amazing woman all in all and it’s nothing less than an enigma to me to understand however she went through her entire life with such harsh tone to it. It does make me feel certain guilt but yet an inspiring one which gives me the inspiration to work harder in what I do whenever I have to do something better.

And there is someone like my two sisters to rely on every single day if I felt any less of me. They are truly the apple of my eyes of which I mean literally for we three of course were born a triplet. If I ever have to criticize my physical well being, I would have to simply jump into the conclusion and might as well criticize my two sisters. In ways, we are different and in ways, we are so much alike. But all in all, we are the strength of each other and there is no escaping the fact. It’s quite amusing when people approach us and admire our likeness and praise our faith of being so lucky to be born together and all those many otherworldly stuffs because frankly, what I happen to believe is that we aren’t supposed to be the center of attention in the first place. It’s quite fine and a miracle if they say so that we were born a triplet, but it’s actually our mother who should be getting all the credit. She was the one who carried us inside her humongous belly for an entire nine months and suffered the agony, not us at all!! She was the one who had to make the perfect decisions regarding our lives and actually make our dreams come true. I don’t believe it to be us who had to be admitted to the hospital a month prior to the actual delivery and 3 months after it. I do not think it was us who had to live inside the ghastly smelling hospital for months in reluctance and I certainly don’t believe it was us who had to undergo the sickly diet to keep us healthy. No I do not think so. It was our parents who had to endure all the pain in the world and the world seems to focus its spotlight on us!! Ironically all this did happen but it only helps me cope with my own insecurity whenever I feel there is anything wrong with me because there shouldn’t be anything wrong with me at all for I am a result of an unconditional love and care of those who love me the most.

So the ultimate issue that I have gripped upon to find an answer starts with a why? Why is it then that I somehow feel insipid at times when all things around me are there to inspire me instead? “No one can make you feel inferior without your own consent”. Often that I feel inferior about myself and let others rain their superiority on me, often that I think of myself less and feel as disabled as a handicap. The more I ponder on this particular subject that seems to cover my entire concentration, the more I come to just one single conclusion. The only finale that seem fitting to me every time is that I lack inspiration. And so begins my rain of thoughts accompanied by millions of questions all directing towards my insecurity on what I haven’t been able to achieve. From then onwards, it’s a steep downhill of depression and dissatisfaction. And I find myself journeying in the quest for inspiration disregarding the presence of the most powerful inspiration in my life, My Mother. Yes! I feel utterly disillusioned with my soulful self by then. But no matter where my ship sails to, it shall be because my strength to move on is anchored to my mother's faith in me. And that she will always remain my biggest inspiration.

South and Central Asia
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