Over the last few years, I have come to terms with the idea that in my life, growth and love have always been interconnected. Even as individual ideas, and emotions. They’re strongly instilled in my heart. When I talk about growth, many may think it is all about self development and all the self glorifying terms that somehow all of us seem to seek nowadays. However to clarify, for me it is not the same. Growth is a process that one goes through in timelines that have been placed in their life for a certain purpose. The self is not the only part of this world, of our world; we share it with so many more. We are so much more than individualism and we belong to communities, we belong to not being alone, even in all our loneliness, we belong to being surrounded despite of what we may choose to believe as the truth.

My parents have always been there for me and that has led me to grow as a person in a supposed “positive” manner and coexist with people very peacefully in all its pros and cons. It is difficult for a lot of us to do so. We may not embrace those we do not like as much. We may project what we do not wish to. Human nature is docile. Not all of us get the same level of support and we have all been born into very different lives.

But it is hardwork worth doing, it is worth scratching under the surface and welcoming everyone, regardless of who they are, it is worth acknowledging that there are some things beyond our comprehension and that light is all we can offer to this earth and its people. We have to unlearn what isn’t right and learn to be kinder to ourselves and others. We have to try with whatever we find within ourselves.

Love is something that humans are meant to do. When we talk about love, it isn’t just romantically but also present and omnipresent in every relation of our life. Love is some of the most profound and joyous concepts that we each have our own ways of deciphering. Some may call me annoyingly optimistic but it is far better than being strenuously pessimistic. Love is growth and for me it has been how I started taking initiatives to do little things, indulge in my interests and do what is right for me. When I decide to take the rather tough decisions, that is growth for me. It is not about putting myself “out of my comfort zone” or pushing out to a nonsensical limit. It is about wanting for yourself what you would want your dearest, most precious people to have for themselves. To do what is needed but to do it without expectations and purely from a place of devotion to myself and the world around me.

To love, for me, has been the utter contribution of all those I hold close in making me a better, happier person. If there is anyone I’d thank; it is them. Although then I must also thank the elderly man at the grocery store who gave me a candy all because “children love this one, take it take it”, all while knowing that I am far too grown up to be a child, all without charging a dime or possessing any heinous intentions.

I must thank everyone, I feel, who has made my life easier and hopeful by even a bit. Who made me believe in us again.

It isn’t easy to explain but I tend to understand what others don’t seem to notice, so it goes that love is not just a concept or something casual but a deep scar that doesn’t hurt, it rather stings when you feel like not growing anymore or loving all that is around you, when you don’t feel like being grateful for it. To be grateful for the food you have, the blanket you cover yourself with, the embraces you need and, if you’re religious, if you truly think there is a higher power who makes everything fall into place, to be thankful to God, to be devoted, because it is not embarassing, at all, it is something we as a society have lost out on, unfortunately, by the rather questionable ideals we have today. To believe in something and to believe in it with a passion larger than life? How can we ever let go of that? How dare we ever cease something that keeps the world from ruin?

The belief in something bigger than ourselves has been the lifeline of the human race. If hope were to ever leave the scenario, there wouldn’t be anything to live for, to wish upon. I think that the world would crumble upon it’s roots and the roots wouldn’t be able to absorb a shock so great. If we were to ever attain even a morsel of peace, it would disappear quicker than we could hold it.

Why do you think life changes when we stop trusting that the moon is following us? Why do you think the lady at that temple closes her eyes and puts her hands together for a presence she cannot see and can only feel? Why do you think we wait despite time passing us by? If the past is unbearable, then to be hopeless is the biggest pain of it all. Why put yourself through such pain? Why remove the only constant that we can ever rely on? Hope.

Art is perhaps the simplest yet most complex thing that we as humans have come across. For I, it is the one thing that makes me feel alive. When one talks about art, it is not only paintings, sketches or the varieties that make up art. To be human is an art in itself and if I were to be a little less philosophical, it is just so many more forms. Cooking, singing, dancing, acting, each and even bigger bits of these are what art is to me. For me, art is literary pieces and prompts that touch my heart and say what I couldn’t in words, it is a way of life for me to listen to music every chance I get. When I am taken aback by all the things in my life, I step back and watch a film and for once it feels like nothing is ever too big and that I sit here revolving on a blue rock in infinite space and time with immeasurably wondrous things around me.

If there is anything in this world that has captured what it is to be humane; it is art. Art is pure, sublime. It has beauty, tragedy, it helps us deal with grief when nothing ever helps. In my life, I’ve involved and continue to involve myself in all the art around me. If I were to live life and not have art around me, I wouldn’t call that existing; forget living. As an individual, I have so many favorites. Favorite people, songs, films, paintings, painters, writings. However, I can never choose one so you may often hear me start my sentences with “one of the” upon being asked about what I simply like. There is too much to appreciate and such less time. I would rather spend it holding everything and everyone close than holding nothing at all.

It is funny, I must say, a girl of many passions you may call me. Films from my own homeland, bollywood, own my heart. Art films, films that have their own messages that go against the rush and hush of today’s life, or romantics that feed how I am as a person. When I listen to Frank Sinatra, I see a moonlit night in broad daylight. To go to a shop and choose the one diary with ‘Water Lilies’ painted by Claude Monet on the cover, to dance to songs at midnight. Art is the language of love. To create is the essence of humanity. Reiterating; to be human is an art in itself.

I think there is nothing greater than breathing in all that we have around us, all that we view. This is the lens through which I see things and always have since my childhood. I find myself praying that you do too. You find the lens you have been searching for. The purpose that you know in your heart of hearts yet never seem to accept.

May the whimsy of my little life never leave me, may the child in my heart take my hand and spin me every second of every day I exist. May you never let your truest self leave the house you’ve built with so much resilience and hope, may the butterflies find you when your eyes form stingy sodium chloride (l), may you never let go of the kindness you seek.

Science may have proof and evidence, which is brilliant, yet hope is proof that nothing in this world surpasses the beauty of the living being and its connection and interactions with this world; which couldn’t ever be compared to even that which is brilliant.

Life is senseless and perhaps that is how it should be. It is stabbing but fleeting; perhaps that is how it should be. When you brush past a stranger’s shoulder and feel alive again; perhaps that is how it should be. When the stars wink at you and their dying light sparks an emotional yet symphonic catastrophe in your throat; perhaps that is how it should be.

As Sylvia Plath once said: Let me live, love and say it well in good sentences.