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The Magic Trick


I know, I am no Deepika Padukone or Chanda Kochar, that my so-called OPEN LETTER would be read by billions and impact the society. But if it can influence even one soul out there, it is worth the effort of waking up mid sleep and pouring my heart out at 2:40 in the morning.

I was growing up (already preoccupied with puberty) and suddenly my body started behaving differently. Initially, I didn’t understand what it actually meant, but whatever it was I was happy. After all, my new friend (or not) would now visit me only every quarter year, rather than the usual once a month affair. It came in about 100 days or so and went in a woossh! Certainly, it wasn’t as comforting for my mom and hence I was dragged to the doctor who gave me contraceptives to pop every day. I was 15, hadn’t even had my first kiss when I was diagnosed with PCOD (Poly Cystic Ovarian Disease). Not only was that embarrassing enough, but the crappy medical black magic ensured that now at least 5 days in a month were dedicated to my thinking, how life would have been different (amazing) if I were a boy.

Things were quite similar until I moved to college, when I stopped taking my medicines things soon got funnier. One fine day, I looked in the mirror and thought to myself, “Like being dark skinned was not enough for people to tease me and now I am getting fat as well, Superb!” So it’s been about 5 years since then and I might have gained around 29 kgs straight, no dips there. In the era of size zero I convinced myself, curvy is sexy. Not much later, curvy turned into fat (I have a friend who calls me Michelin). I always thanked god for giving me a sane puberty phase, but it clearly got jinxed. It was after entering the 20’s that the acne started attacking my body. I started losing my hair (some of it I even burnt in stupid incident, but that’s a story for another time), so I only had a chunk of hair left, just enough for an illusion.

Every day something new (not in a good sense) would be encountered and things were getting out of hand; My stamina got worse than my 70-year-old grandma and a tiny little moustache had also started to pop up. I kept asking myself what was wrong, was it the water, the lifestyle, the fact that I am just too awesome that the world can’t handle (Yes, I did consider that one too). But anyhow it was pulling me down. There were days when I looked into the mirror and didn’t look back at it again because I didn’t like what I saw.

But today I understand that I was always beautiful and so is ever person out there. There is nothing in the world which can match up to your beauty.

You maybe dark, but you can light up your home.

You maybe fat, but you can wrap your loved ones in your cosy arms.

You maybe tiny, but you can conquer great heights.

You maybe wounded, but you can dream.

It may have hit too many strings, but the purpose remains one. The same thing which has been told a trillion times in a zillion different books and articles I believe. But since this is the core truth of my life and of many others there, I wouldn’t stop myself from repeating it. YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. YOU ARE ONE OF A KIND. YOU ARE A GIFT TO THE WORLD and YOU CAN DO MAGIC.

No person in this whole wide world is too dark, too fair, too short, too fat, too thin, too tall, too booby, too flat, too slutty, too bore. The only thing one can be is TOO AWESOME.

This (not so little) article is dedicated to every daughter/son, mother/father, sister/brother, wife/husband, lover and friend out there who has overcome or is going through these immaterial insecurities, I hope you too realize your self-worth (which is priceless). For every little prince & princess out there, the only way you would look breathtaking is by being your own self (which is awesome). There is nothing more attractive, important and productive than believing and working on your own dreams.

We spend all our lives thinking what can we do? The only answer is: MIRACLES!

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