Being ME

IT was the night of shoshti (the sixth day and the day ma durga comes back to her house) and I was watching piku the other day and it was shosti. All of a sudden I realized that I miss being a Bengali. I found that to be strange because I was never in touch with Bengal and even more I was never a big fan of durga Pooja. Ufff the unbearable heat the scrutinizing eyes of Bengalis would take up all your energy and patience. Born in MP brought up in Gujarat and the only Bengali influence I have are my mom, dad and didu (My maternal grandmother). Even my parents never had a lot of influence of Bengal as they themselves were born outside West Bengal. So I thought what made me suddenly miss being a Bong soo much ????

Contemplating on this thought I realized that I don’t miss being a bong but I actually miss being me. Being unique. From the time I have realized that I am a person of my own thoughts and the things I do influence what people think about me I have been changing myself to be perfect in others eyes. Whether  it was being a perfect daughter to my parents or being an innocent niece for  my relatives or girlfriend or an ideal friend to the people around me’. Why am I not perfect for everyone even though I try to be? I have always wondered why??? To find an answer to my question I escaped my monotonous life and took refuge in my old house for a few days and I discovered the simplest yet amazing thing.

The trick is that it’s not about bringing perfection in you; it’s about being you perfectly. What you do, think or say you do so perfectly. Being you gives you the self-confidence to live life to the fullest. Trying to be a perfectionist comes to you easily when you are trying to be the perfect you. For example if you like to write you’ll spend hours and days writing a perfect story. If you like being an engineer you’ll sit hours at a stretch designing something new. All you have to do is be YOU.

So I realised that the only way I can be a perfectionist is by BEING ME. I’m not a very culture loving person but if embracing my culture helps me to be myself so be it. Now I know why I missed being a bong…. Because I miss Being  ME.

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