We are not packages meant to be labelled

 

This is not a story or any work of fiction. This is about me voicing out my opinions on a particularly sensitive topic that I have seen and experienced in real life. I am not here to tell others how to act or behave, rather I’m just trying to build and show others another perspective that they may have outlooked. I am not placing blame or accusing anyone or even calling anyone out. So please do not get the wrong idea and read this with an open and accepting mind. If you can’t do it then you have all rights to close this post right now. 


How many times have you have been called names, not just from bullying but jokingly from your friends as well? How many times have you heard others place labels on you that they think is just for entertainment and completely harmless? Jokes are a completely different topic but they should never be mixed with ‘harmless insults’ because whether you believe or not insults do hurt. It doesn’t matter if they were said in a joking way, calling someone out for their weight or acne or any other insecurity repeatedly is hurtful. Ever since my teen years started, I became more aware of the intimidatingly long range of insecurities that can plague someone and what was even scarier was how difficult it was to get rid of them. Not to mention the world we are living in right now that is practically run by social media is becoming increasingly toxic in many ways that far too scary to fathom. 

The insurmountable standards we have placed on ourselves are driven from the judgements that have been conceived in society itself. Where do you think labels like ‘pretty’ or ‘hot’ or ‘ugly’ have originated from? They didn’t come from another planet, they were born right here, in this world we live in by us. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, I’m not sure, but what I do know is society is becoming exceedingly toxic and setting high demands for the human race.  From what I see it as, our world just doesn’t function without labels. Becoming ‘perfect’, in anything for that matter, had seemed so marvellous at first but is now contaminated with outrageous ideas of having an impossibly slim body or having a ‘golden ratio.’ It is because of these labels that society has created that the self esteem of many people, young or old, is starting to get destructed. 

Yes, there are many platforms to better build your esteem or confidence but if we compare both sides, I think we all know that toxicity would win. There are too many labels, too much pressure on people just to ‘look good’ that the idea of beauty has completely changed. People are spending millions to change their face just so that that they fit into society’s ridiculously high beauty standards. However, the effects of these labels are too tremendous to ignore. Deteriorating mental health, suicide, these are just a few of numerous effects that labels have plagued us with. 

We are all so pressured to be liked, to look attractive, to fit in that we have started living our life on the basis of these labels. And what about those who have to constantly listen to people mocking their insecurities, throwing labels at them like it’s no big deal? They are on the verge of hurting themselves too, if they haven’t already. Because we are constantly exposed to these harmful labels all the time, it makes us think that our world only revolves around these labels. And then the effects start to hit in. Like I said, suicide and depression are just a few of the many harmful effects labels have on people. 

I am not here to tell people how they should talk to others. I am here to show them what their words are doing to others. Whether or not they choose to continue using these labels on others is completely on them because, in the end, I can’t force people to change. And for all those people whose lives have been affected by these labels, I am not going to be a hypocrite and tell you to love yourself because I have no right to. The reason is, I have many insecurities as well and until I have not learnt to love myself, I can’t tell others to do the same. Like I said, I am only here to show you what labels have done to our world, to us. Labels have become the foundation of practically every aspect of our world. The standards of ‘beautiful’ or ‘talented’ or even ‘competent’ have completely changed and reached to insurmountable heights. 

Stop contaminating the idea of ‘perfect.’ Stop using harmful labels for both yourself and others because you are not going to get anything out of it. If you choose to use labels for yourself, you will start walking on the path of self-destruction. And if you use it for others, you will be creating their path of destruction. It may seem entertaining to you to joke about someone’s face or weight, but it’s not. Deep inside it does hurt them and it is only a matter of time before the hurt evolves into something more painful. 

I was taught that compassion should be the fundamental of humanity. Yet what I see is compassion being replaced with selfishness and ignorance. We all live in this world together and if we don’t take care of ourselves no one will. So let us all stop contaminating our home and our lives. 

There is nothing funny about mocking someone so open your eyes and look at what your actions are resulting. I believe that labels should not be the basis of our identity until unless you yourself are genuinely alright with it. And if you are completely comfortable with the labels given to you then there is no harm in that. Labels should be given and taken with intention of comfort and joy not hurt and shame. 

In the end, we should ask ourselves this, are labels really the basis of humanity? 





Update

 

Hey guys this is just an update, (sorry to disappoint y’all) but I’m really sorry I haven’t been posting much. It’s my exam season so I most probably won’t be posting until the end of October. I have been a bit busy with my revision and all so I just wanted to give you a heads up instead of keeping you in the dark. 

Also a quick question, what do you think about We are Weapons so far? Plz do give me your opinions if you want me to continue the story or write a new one. Thanks!


〜R~


We are Weapons

 

Chapter 2


“Mom! Mom! Please don’t do this! Please no!” I screamed in terror as I saw her filling up another injection. This was my third dose this week and I absolutely despised them. I begged my mom to let me go, to free me from the straps that she used to bound me to her operating table. I didn’t want to feel pain anymore. I hated this. My eyes widened in fear as she turned the needle towards me, her face impassive as usual. Tears leaked down my cheeks but she didn’t say anything. Mom wasn’t like this. I wanted my mother back. The one who would tuck me in and kiss my forehead to make everything bad in life vanish away. This isn’t my mom. It took everything in me not to scream when she stuck the needle inside my arm, letting the paralysis take control over me. It was a horrible feeling, one that sent an overwhelming number of images to my brain making me writhe in pain. My brain felt like it was going to explode from the information overload and just when I thought it couldn’t take more -

I have been getting more of my memories and let me tell you, it hasn’t been a pleasant experience. It feels like there are two versions of me and I don’t know who I am or who I was. None of my memories make any sense even though I know they supposedly happened to me. It’s like I don’t even know myself and that’s the worst feeling of all when you lose your identity. Sometimes I become angry at the fact that I was lied to so many times by my own mother while other times it feels like I am lying to myself  because in the back of my head I know this happened to me but I’m just pretending to not believe it. 

There are other information I have recovered. More important information even though it’s just bits and pieces. My mother apparently was the founder of this programme called Project Evolution. 

I don’t know much about it but after the war and destruction that literally broke our world, my mom and some other scientists were put in charge of finding a way to fix the different parts in our world, whether it being healthcare, construction, food or water. Apparently my mother was placed in the healthcare department, specifically to study those adults who had turned into cannibals a few years after the main war ended. 

I remembered seeing some of her notes where she had drawn different diagrams of the brain  in the cannibals and in normal adults and she found some significant changes in them. The cannibals were evidently very aggressive in their behaviour and their brain showed signs of underdevelopment. The adults had been faced with extreme signs of stress and depression as when the rebuilding process started, a lot of pressure was put on them to get work done and without any technology that had been destroyed in the war, the process was quite a challenge. Eventually this caused a sense of hopelessness in them and, as per my mother’s notes, this hopelessness was one of the major factors that caused depression in them. As for them turning into cannibals, the lack of food was a huge trigger. 

During war or even in the aftermath, people take drastic measures to survive. And since the lack of food was and exponentially rising problem, the already stressed and depressed adults acted desperately. Which basically means that since proper food was decreasing, the adults moved on to next potential ‘food.’ Humans. It was disgusting really, seeing images of cannibals feasting on human flesh and seeing their inner parts of the brain etched in my mind. But the worst part was seeing their transformation. 

My mother had drawn and printed a few diagrams that explained some of the changes in their body, specifically in their digestive system. Their enzymes had changed such that they were able to digest human flesh. Not to mention, their nervous system had weakened which caused their brain to become weaker. That would explain why cannibals are not able to think or act rationally. 

But the fact that cannibals are still on the loose is what scares me. I am a seventeen year old teenage girl all alone in an abandoned city with a mixed up brain. How hard can this be?


Heyyy guys!! Sorry I took this long to update. This was kind of like a filler chapter but I really wanted to give you a glimpse of what happened during and after the war. It’s not really the best chapter and I am really sorry for that. I have just finished my weighted assessments 3 and I have been feeling really unmotivated, both in studying and writing this story. I really don’t want to discontinue this story so I promise I will try to get my ideas straight. My next exams are End of years in late September and I am dead scared for that. Hopefully I can do well. Do comment and share this blog if u liked my stories! Thanks! 

Just a note

 

Hey guys! Sorry for not publishing a new post for so long. The thing is I have been working on the second chapter of We are Weapons and there are still many flaws that I stil have to work on. We are Weapons is kind of like a really raw story and I did not even have a proper plan for it so it might take me a while before I publish the second chapter. Don’t worry I will try to post a few short stories and maybe even work on a poem. I am not sure when I will post the second chapter so really sorry about that. Also I am going to be really busy in the upcoming weeks as my term assessments are coming up so it may be a while before another post is up. Hope you understand! 


〜R~



We are Weapons

 

Chapter 1

I run. I run far away, with no aim or direction in my head. My brain is not working anymore, its only goal is to give signals to my legs to keep moving. I need to run. Away from my nightmares that are still chasing me right now even if it is way past midnight. I can feel the serum they gave me taking effect but I won’t let it control me. I saw what it did to the others. None of them deserved what happened to them. Yet the only question working through my head, the only one I allowed to distract me right now was, why hadn’t it affected me too? The serum caused my memory to become a jumbled mess. I was starting to remember things that I did not even know happened to me. Secrets about my past that were kept hidden from me for so long. Things I refuse to believe until confirming them myself. 

                               ~~~~

I have no idea how long I have been running for. All I know is that it is already the next day because I can see the sun rising. I took breaks in between because even if I was running on pure adrenaline, I am human and I had to rest. The officers stopped chasing me a few hours ago but I haven’t been able to feel relief. I leaned against the tree, trying to catch my breath. The sun’s rays shone directly upon me and again I started to feel the weird buzzing sensation in the back of my head. It gave me goosebumps whenever I came into direct contact with sunlight. I had been getting them since I was young but until yesterday I never thought much about it. As much as it sounds stupid, it feels like I have this connection with light. And some of the new memories that I have gained prove my theory right. 

Flashback

I stare at the sun enjoying the way its rays sent tickles down my arm. Little goosebumps appeared on my arm and a low humming rang in my ears. It was like the light was trying to communicate with me as strange as it sounded. And I know it sounded strange because that's what Ellie told me when we were playing in the playground. She had called me a freak, saying that seven-year-olds don't talk to the sun. No one does. She isn't a nice person Maybe mommy might know something. 

"Vera? What are you doing here?" My mommy's sweet voice fills my ears. I turn around smiling. "Hi, mommy. I missed you. How was work?" My mommy was a very important person. She worked a lot and studies a lot. I want to be her when I grow up. Mommy leaned down and kissed my forehead. "It was fine. Now tell me what question is troubling your brain? I can almost see the gears in your head churning," She smiles back at me. I love her smile. It's so pretty. Just like her blue eyes. "Mommy, can the sun talk to me?" I expected her to frown and call me weird but instead, she smiled wider as though she had been waiting for me to ask her this. 

"Vera, when you look at the sun what do you feel?" I frowned. I don't know why she is not answering me. "Like it's trying to tickle me," I reply honestly. Mommy's eyes softened with happiness. She looked really happy. Maybe I will try to be really honest from now on if it makes her happy. "That's because you can control light darling. You have this ability that makes you powerful." 

Now I didn't understand anything she said back then but now, given the situation, I was really starting to see some light. Literally. From my new memories I gathered this much that apparently, mommy dearest had done some weird things on me that resulted in me getting the ability to manipulate light. My guess is she gave me a serum, similar to ones the officers gave us yesterday. Except that she gave me another serum exactly two days after her little experiment on me and that caused me to lose my memories of that incident. 

Subsequently, two days later she kept giving me a serum. I think this one was to prevent my ability from resurfacing since I remember taking this weird medicine every two days. But here is the bid question, why did she give me this serum to supposedly block my ability when she herself planted it in the first place?

I may not know it now but I will find out sooner or later. I need to know what happened in my past because I know it is connected with what happened just two days ago. 

My mother was a genetic scientist and on top of that she was also a prodigy in neurology and behavioral science. I don't remember much about her because she disappeared when I was nine but I know that loved to experiment a lot. She was always trying to find new ways to solve problems in the human system so I have no doubt that this nightmare all teens are facing is all thanks to her.

I lie my head against the tree trunk, the leafy canopy a protection from blazing morning sun and a relief from the constant pull I feel towards its light. 

I have to find out why she did this to me. Why she stripped me of my normalcy and made me into her personal guinea pig. And all this can only be done if I can find my mother.


Hey! I am back finally with a new story idea. Honestly, I had gotten this story idea just recently and I am not sure how it will turn out but hopefully this will not end up in my unfinished stories pile… share your thoughts about this first chapter!!

Secrets in the Ocean


Blue mixed with green, and waves collided with each other. The ocean was singing us a song; the lyrics were all the words that had been spilled in it and mixed with feelings of anguish, happiness, sorrow. Words that we had spilled. 

Often we fail to trust the people around us as we worry that our secrets may accidentally be shared with the public, that they won't remain secrets anymore. When we confide in someone there is always this worry in the back of our heads that the person may tell someone else.

But the ocean is different. The waters look so alluring as they lure you in along with all your secrets. It promises to keep each and every one of your secrets safe. 

So you drop them in, one by one. 

You watch your secrets get swallowed by the sea as they drown and drift further away from the surface. The ocean eats and drinks all of your secrets. It gobbles them greedily, unwilling to share it with anyone. Without dispensing them out. 

Your secrets will never come out from the depths of blue. They have gone too far and will stay hidden and locked in the drifting waters forever. They will dissolve and become one with the sea. 

The ocean eats your secrets. Drinks them all. Swallows them all.

So spill. Spill your secrets to the ocean. Let it take the burden for you. Let your secrets dissolve and drown with the rest of your worries. Spill. Spill some more. For the ocean yearns to eat more. 


Heyy guys! I'm back with another short story. Lately, I have been obsessed with writing stories about the ocean so many of my stories have references to the sea. 

Small disclaimer: I wrote this short story in March when I was on a cruise this year and I wrote it while literally looking at the ocean and listening to the waves. It really is very peaceful watching the sea. I'm sure I am not the only one who feels this way. See yall soon!    

The Sun's best friend

 

The waves splash gently along the shore, the sounds of the ripples echoing in the unnatural silence of the afternoon. Strangely, not even the kids were out on the beach today, the golden sand void of footprints. Not that it bothered me though. 

I always came to the ocean. It gave me the serenity that many yearn for desperately. There was something so calming, so alluring to just watch the sun dip in the ocean for a long-awaited bath. Even the sun gets tired after a long day of continuously spreading its warmth and light to a hundred different places all at once. And there is nothing like a nice bath to get rid of the exhaustion after working hard. 

Today was no different too. I would sit on the sand with my feet stretched out in the water, occasionally drawing mindless shapes while watching the sun darken as it gets ready for bed. I silently thank the golden orb for rising so early in the morning without fail just to do its job impeccably. I, not being an early bird could understand the pains of waking up early in the morning to go to school. 

The sun was touching the water surface now. Its fiery aura spread across the ocean, like colors spilling into the waters and turning it a deep shade of orange-red. Not every inch of the blue sea had turned red and it was at this moment that the ocean looked absolutely mesmerizing. Like a drip of golden tainting blue. 

Finally, the sun lets its exhaustion take control as it fully submerges into the sea, ready for its bath before bed. But it doesn't take away the light. No. The sun displays its selflessness and it never lets the world dives into darkness. Even in its absence, the sun leaves someone to take care of us. Someone whose light, though weaker than the sun, can still guide us through the black. The sun lets its best friend take the spotlight at night.

Everyone, welcome the Moon. 

It has a unique silver shade, a stark contrast to the golden orb that we so heavily depend on. A beautiful white color slowly travels in the water that was not even a second ago dark orange. A simple white dot is drawn onto a piece of black paper. But the moon is not alone. It is always accompanied by these tiny glittering charms stuck onto the black paper. Amplification of the moon's strength. 

Together, they give enough light to help a lost soul find its way. They give enough light to chase the monsters hiding in the dark. 

I smile fondly at the Sun's best friend. The sun has so much faith in the moon. It has no doubt that in its absence the moon will take care and continue giving us light. 

I smile at their unbreakable friendship, at their faith in each other. At their determination to do their job while relying on one another. 

Soon after a few hours, the moon will take its bath. The moon will go to bed peacefully, knowing that tomorrow the sun will be there to take over. Just like always. 

A never-ending cycle that will continue tomorrow. 

Just like always. 


Heyy yall! hope you guys are doing fine. I have written a bunch of stories during this extremely long break that I took and I will try my best to post them frequently from now on. Again, I hope you enjoyed this short story, and if you did make sure to subscribe to my blog and recommend it to others as well. See yall soon!   

  

Ideal child

Hey! So this is one of the first poems that I wrote after starting poetry this year. After editing it with the major help of my grandfather I thought it was good to go. So credits go to him for helping me edit this! Here it goes: 

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. 
Perfect smile. 
Perfect nature. 
Perfect grades. 
Perfect clothes. 
Mistakes too expensive, 
disappointments too lethal. 
Don’t talk. Just listen. 
You are better seen than heard. 
Don’t speak your mind, 
It adds fuel to the fire. 
The flames grow higher with your every word. 
Listen. Listen. Listen. 
Don’t defend. The flames are too tall now. 
Look down. Down. Down. 
Don’t let the eyes meet, 
because then the flames touched the ceiling. 
One wrong word. One wrong move. One wrong look. 
And the roof comes tumbling down, 
The fire swallowing it whole. 
Don’t let it happen. The only way to save it is by being Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. 

Hope you liked it! As I said, this was the first poem that I wrote and I don't expect it to be 'perfect' but I really hope it was a good try! If you liked it, do make sure to recommend my blog to others. Thanks! 

Life is an ocean

Life is an ocean. It is filled with schools of vibrant fish, shivers of toxic sharks hell-bent on destroying you and pods of dolphins who make your day with just one smile. 

Life is an ocean. It is filled with turbulent waters, disastrous tsunamis that make you seem so fragile to break and serene waves whose movements bring music to your ears. 

Life is an ocean. You start at the top, on the shallow waters when you are born and drown deeper as you grow. And at the end you find yourself at the bottom of it, swallowed by the waters of your achievements and the waves of your regrets. 

Life is an ocean.

Where had love gone?

  The glasses were broken. The ceramic vases, which had been made by his own hands and gifted to me on my 21st birthday, were broken. The pe...