There she stands in front of her photo showing a beautiful smiling face, big dark eyes with her dense hair gracefully tied as a bunch over her head. The photo looks perfect. She can identify herself. The identity looks perfect. Nostalgically and happily looking at the photo her wandering, lively eyes stopped at the hair of the ‘woman in the photo’. The smile suddenly disappears with the apparent gloominess on the realization of the major change in the self, a change never wanted by self, but out of control of the self.
Ah! Those beautiful hair, the beautiful me, the ‘me’. The girl moaned for her beautiful hair, for her changed identity, for her lost identity, for her identity. The flower is losing its petals. Oh! This is sad and pathetic.
But is it so? Can the self be ever changed? Can the self lose its power and vigor? Isn’t the self-immutable, eternal and perfect? The girl needs to look at her actual self which is still so live, so beautiful, so enigmatic, so passionate and that which would remain all the same.
Divya is a graduate in commerce from Delhi University, India. An avid reader and writer focusing on living emotions that are so normal, but still so precious from her perspective. ...
