How Was I Born?

If you’re a parent with a curious toddler, what would be your answer if he/she asked you  about how he/she was born? If your answer is anything like “We thought about having you, so we did”  then don’t do it because that answer is the absolute worse if your toddler took everything literally.  This short story is issued in public interest.

An annoying kid I was, because I didn’t know how to shut up, fortunately, my parents put up with me anyways.One of my one hundred and one questions included “Mom how was I born?” and that was a huge mistake. My mum replied with a semi truth answer( I’d like to believe) that they thought about having me and so I just magically ended up in her tummy. Or at least, that’s how I interpreted this. The thing is, at that point of time, I was fascinated by one of my friends who had a twin sister. I envied them because I had no one to twin with. However, now, as a twenty year old, I’m glad that there isn’t a replica of me because…well, snowflake syndrome.

I started to think about what it would be like if I could give birth to twins? And then instantly panicked about whether or not I’d end up with a bump in my tummy. This toddler took her mum’s words seriously. I suppose you could say that the habit of engaging in stupid shit started at a very young age. This continued for a few months from what I could remember. I distinctly remember about being confused about whether I’d have two bumps in my tummy since I thought about having twins and then internally panicked because I didn’t want two bumps let alone one!

Thankfully I sorta forgot about it, probably because I found some other topic that interested my tiny brain and then sex ed happened. I wasn’t given any formal sex ed but I did learn a lot through reading and YouTube videos ( including everyone’s first sex ed book – The Oxford Dictionary).

But when I think about this incident I realize that I was privileged enough to have access to external resources besides my formal education and there are many who do, but simply do not realize the impact of sex ed. It forms a better society. Think about it,  there are probably millions out there who are stuck with the perspective of sex ed similar to that of a toddler.Damn. Sex ed is VERY important.

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Copycat! Kill The Rat! Tell Your Mother To Make You Fat!

I’ve been a watchman for a nursery school for about five years now. Did I mention that you should find this interesting because I’m an alien for outer space? Well now you know. It’s incredible to watch tiny portable dumplings live and interact as if nothing can ever go wrong while the larger and grumpy dumplings interact as if the sky is going to fall.

One of the most peculiar acts by these tiny dumplings is accusing someone of imitating them. They say “Copycat! Kill the rat! Tell your mother to make you fat!” which I must admit, is a rhyming scheme of high standard for nursery kids. But what I fail to understand is why would they kill the rat if it was the cat’s fault? Was the rat his friend? Why was the rat in charge of the cat? As far as my understanding of the animal world goes, cats are usually kept at homes to kill rats. Also, why would the cat’s mother want to make her child fat? Why should the child be fat? Why should the rat pay the price of life and the mother be forced to do something? And all for the price of one cat who copied the actions of another cat?

Humans are strange.

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Daily Prompt: Copycat

Daily Prompt: Bridge

She faced the north and he faced the south, the only thing in between them was a bridge. All they had to do was stand up and meet each other halfway. Or at least, that’s what she hoped for. Suddenly, time stopped and everything was static.

I don’t think this is what I’m looking for, she thought. She yearned to have a relationship with someone she could be herself with, someone who would put as much as effort into her as she would do to him. Was this bridge worth it? It looked stable on the outside but she could see beyond it.

No bridge is perfect, she thought. One needs to work on it, improve it and see what works and what doesn’t, that’s how things work, right? The need to get to the other side still remains even if the bridge is destroyed, right? But what if there is no other side?

A bridge could be repaired and made useful no matter what, except for one thing. She realized that this bridge would only survive if the other end was secured as well.

She stood up. She ran.

Time continued it’s journey.

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Daily Prompt: Bridge

Daily Prompt: Smoke

She stood there. What else could she do? A still and lifeless being, yet full of life she was but just didn’t know. She swayed with the breeze hoping it would guide her but all she found was more chaos. She never romanticizied chaos, she believed that it was her only friend.The heaviness of her trunk was nothing compared to the heaviness in her two feet. To her, this was just another experiment. But this one could’nt fail nor could it suceed. The only layer between her and death was the smoke from life itself, perhaps it was a way of Mother Nature telling her to reconsider her decision. She had all the time in the world to contemplate her misery but even an act so trivial, in her perspective, seemed useless without incentive. The sky sees everything, she thought, How does the sky unburden itself from seeing everything?

She took a step closer and the smoke welcomed her. It seemed like her repose was a sign of temptation. Temptation to hope that there truly lies peace and tranquility. She had to know if a pittance of hope was worth the wars. She took a step closer.

She got closer.


The smoke was a cunning accomplice indeed, for it gave her the illusion to expect death. Instead, it let her float on water.

This was no happy ending for our girl. Her experiment had turned out to be something bittersweet yet calmly troubling. She decided to let the chaos of the wind take her in the direction it pleased.

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Daily Prompt: Smoke


Thalia’s life never did go as planned. Then again, who’s did? She lived in various cities, never settled but what bothered her the most was that she never stood up for herself. It’s not that she let bad things happen to her but she was simply okay with everything. She was raised well and knew when to say no. Life just never affected her that much. Or so, she thought.

Calling her a confused girl would be an understatement. She didn’t know what to do for herself. Every time she sought for motivation or inspiration her questions would be why and even if she did achieve what she wanted, what happens next? These two questions stopped her from trying anything. Its not that she never completed work, she just never thought about maximizing her potential. She never had an aim in life.

She thought a lot about why people wanted certain things so badly but she could never quite pin it down to one quality. For her, this was all rocket science.

One of her friends had made a collage consisting of pictures as a baby and pictures taken till today. She wanted to show how she had changed physically and mentally as a person over the course of her life. Thalia wished that she could do the same but from all the moving to different places, she didn’t keep many pictures with her.

That evening she decided to take a shower. Thalia went down to memory lane and thought of the exact moment when she was incredibly upset. She wondered if she could ever change that tiny girl’s life.

Thalia smiled.

She decided that she wanted to be that person who little Thalia could look up to. Little Thalia needed that hope that there was someone who made it despite all the odds. She was sure that she would do whatever it took to make little Thalia happy again. After cherishing the moment, she thought how adorable little Thalia would look when she saw her big green eyes glowing at her with her mouth wide open starring, starring with awe and curiosity.

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“I feel therefore I am”, I say .

Capitalism laughs at a distance.

“Of course! Of course! We have a special range of a selected option of feelings just for you! We want you to feel special!”, says the marketing department .

“I think they are reasonable” says the ego.

“It says 8 dollars for 2 separate things but 6.9 dollars if you choose from their deal!” says reason. Or at least what I think reason is.

“But I have enough” says content.

“But you don’t have this option. Plus, look at the price dearie!” exclaims temptation.

I chose the deal.

Yet another transaction went smoothly for the marketing department.

Capitalism is pleased.

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He felt lonely and secluded despite being surrounded by people he cared for. He didn’t know why he felt this way, all he did know was the pain and the numbness that his chest carried. Sometimes he felt nothing and sometimes he just burst out when no one was around. His world made no sense to him.

He would browse the net in search for answers. Most people on the Internet were trying to be helpful. Despite asking himself millions of questions nothing quiet struck him as the root cause of his problem.

He spoke to his family but they didn’t quiet understand what he was trying to say. They thought that their son was just upset. Little did they know that he’d rather be upset, rather feel anything other than pain and numbness.

Classical music was his only true friend. His only friend that made everything bearable. He didn’t know what to do. Everytime he thought about doing something his brain would just go blank.

He cried just like any other night. Most kids would just be on their phones or watch TV before they sleep.

The next day was different. He figured that the reason he couldn’t relate to other ideas to help him cope was because whatever was happening to him,came from within. This wasn’t an objective test. This was his experiences, his life choices, this was his internal bleeding. He realised that he had to observe himself to atleast have a starting point.

He wasn’t a fan of mint candy but it always made him feel good after he cried. He liked the feeling of having Antarctica on your tongue for a few seconds. It also made him aware of his surroundings.

Since that day, whenever he felt that the pain was unbearable he’d have one mint pellet. He’d keep track of the number of pellets he had and kept record of it on an online journal. He’d compare the days and try to figure out why some days were better and some days were not.

He wasn’t completely diagnosed but he found himself a starting point to understand himself.

Most people who suffer from depression can’t figure out where to start. Some take years whereas some never find out.

(Disclaimer: this was a short story written based on personal experiences and opinions)

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