shantaram – pt.2

 I posted about the book Shantaram a few weeks back but due to my crazy I stopped reading, primarily because I could not concentrate on it nor lift my head off my pillow to read a sentence, let alone a page. I am still about half way through but am determined to finish it because, in case I didn’t mention it before, I adore this book.

 It never fails to amaze me just how powerful words when combined in the right way can be yet when we see them in a dictionary alone they seem powerless. We have to use them wisely because they can empower us but also destroy us.

I shared before some of my favourite passages from the story, but that was just the beginning. The more I read the more food for thought this story seems to give me.

Read on below to see some more words of wisdom.

 

I think suffering is a matter of choice. I think that we do not have to suffer anything in this life if we are strong enough to deny it. The strong man can master his feelings so completely that it is almost impossible to make him suffer. When we do suffer things, like and so, it means that we have lost control. So I will say that suffering is a human weakness.

 

Is it not true that some of our strength comes from suffering? That suffering hardship makes us stronger. That those of us who have never known a real hardship and true suffering cannot have the same strength as others who have suffered much?

 

I think that when we grow up and learn that happiness is rare, we become disillusioned and hurt. And how much we suffer is a mark of how much we have been hurt by this realization.

 

When we act, even with the best of intentions, when we interfere with the world, we always have a new disaster that mightn’t have been of our making, but that wouldn’t occur without our action.

 

Some of the worst wrongs were caused by people who tried to change things

 

The worse things that people do to us always make us feel ashamed. The worst things people do always strike at that part of us that wants to love the world. And a tiny part of the shame we feel when we’re violated, is shame at being human.

 

Lovers always find their way by such insights and confidences; they’re the stars we use to navigate the ocean of desire. And the brightest of those are the heart of breaks and sorrows. The most precious gift you can bring to your lover is your suffering.

 

Men reveal what they think when they look away and what they feel when they hesitate; with women it’s the opposite.

 

At the moment most of our ways of defining the unit of morality are similar in their intentions though different in their details. So the priests of one nation bless their soldiers as they march to war and the imans of another country bless their solders as they march out to meet them and everybody who is involved in the killing says that he has God on his side. There is no objective and universally accepted definition of good and evil and until we have one we will go on justifying our own actions whilst condemning the actions of others.

 

If you turn your heart into a weapon you always end up using it on yourself.

 

Sooner or later fate puts us together with the people who show us what we could or shouldn’t let ourselves become. Sooner or later we meet the drunkard, the waster, the betrayer, the ruthless mind and the hate filled heart but fate loads the dice of course because usually we find ourselves pitying all of these people and its impossible to despise someone when you honestly pity and to shun someone you truly love.

 

My hate is what saved me. Hate is a very resilient thing you know, hate is a survivor. I had to hide my hate for a long time, people couldn’t handle it, they got spooked by it so I sent it outside myself. It’s weird that I was a refugee for years, I still am, my hate was a refugee just like me. My hate was outside me. My family were all killed, raped and butchered and I killed men, I shot them, I cut their throats and my hate survived out there. My hate got stronger and harder and then I woke up one day working for Khader with money and power and I could feel the hate creeping back into me and it’s here now, inside me, where it belongs and I’m glad, I enjoy it. I need it, Lin. The stronger I am it’s braver that I am, it’s stronger than I am. My hate is my hero.

 

 

 

I mean… *insert heart-eye emoji here*
Xoxo

Micks

Why can’t I take a compliment?

I was recently told that I put myself down a lot – something that a lot of people do, especially if you’re British; self-deprecation is noted as a truly British trait. However, I digress, I was recently told that I put myself down a lot, something which I had put down to my Britishness (is that a real word?) Seeking a second opinion, I asked a close friend and confidante if they agreed with the person’s observations; they did.

“You do it more than most, and you can’t take a compliment; you’ll either turn it into a joke or ignore it.”

“Well, I don’t want to seem arrogant. I know I’m nothing special”

“Taking a compliment and being arrogant are two different things. You can’t take a compliment.”

 

Food for thought for me.

It’s not a behaviour I can say I had particularly noticed in myself and it made me more conscious of it; and for the next while I made an effort to see if I did it that often. Turns out I do, even when I wasn’t meaning to. Jokes were made by me, at my expense. Any compliments I received were either ignored or turned into a joke, or deflected back on to the person that had given the compliment to start with.

 

“You’re hair looks nice today”

“I just couldn’t be bothered to straighten it”

 

“That’s a nice top”

“So’s yours, where is it from?”

 

“What make up do you use? Your skin looks nice”

“Behave, have you seen these bags under my eyes? Any bigger and I’ll be charged 5p for them”

Just a few examples there, there was never once a simple thank you. Then, being the over-thinker, over-analyser type of person that I am who is always looking for answers as to why people behave the way they do, I got to thinking.

Why am I like this? Yes, it’s one thing to make the odd joke at your expense (no one likes anyone who takes themselves too seriously) but the constant put-downs? Why?

When trying to figure out why, I came to conclusion that it was so no one else can do it. If I take the piss out of myself then no one else can use it against me. Basically I don’t think I’m enough. So I joke more than necessary, put myself down, deflect compliments so that when others see something they don’t like, or a flaw I feel protected. They may have noticed it, or criticised me but chances are I’ve got a joke ready so it won’t matter. I know I am not perfect, and I don’t strive to be, so why am I always on the defensive? Why can’t I just be like:

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WHY GODDAMIT?

The majority of people who I come into contact with daily wouldn’t notice that way I am. They see the façade I put out there; confident, happy, smart (weeeell), chatty. Very few know me well enough to see past that, I still remember a conversation at work a while ago between Aud and Kelv. Audrey said I was confident and almost immediately Kelly said no, I wasn’t, that I was actually really shy and unsure. Of course, everyone disagreed with her but she was right. I really am shy and unsure. I travel around different stores, meeting lots of people and I completely cool and calm about it but, fake it until you make it has been my motto at work for a long time.

There are 2 moments that I can pinpoint that started me off this way. Both occurred during Secondary school (a traumatic weird time in everyone’s life).

First, Mrs Scott’s English class, top set. Discussing projects, and one of my friends had finished theirs early. Mrs Scott (the crazy bitch) overheard our conversation and promptly called me ‘an empty vase’, just as the rest of the class went quiet. Yep, she called me thick and all my classmates heard. They talk about having those moments where you want the ground to swallow you – this was the first one of mine that I remember. Ever since then I have only ever joked about me being clever. Ever since then I didn’t think I was smart enough.

Second. Now, before I write this I just want to say my sister probably doesn’t even remember this moment, nor meant what came out of her mouth, I think she just chose her words wrong. Nevertheless, it happened and is still a memory I have to this day, I can remember it as if it happened yesterday.

I was about 15, in town with my sister and her then boyfriend. She had run into Mcdonalds to use the loo (classy) and whilst she was in there her boyfriend got talking to some friends. They walked off just as she came back out, the conversation went like this

“Who was that?”

“Just Jim, Tom and Ads, some of the lads I used to kick about with”

“Oh, did they think my sister was your girlfriend?”

“No, I said she was your sister”

“Cause I was gonna say I bet they were like errgh

Like I say, I think she chose her words wrong, but I have always remembered that. I’m errrgh. I think that was when I really started to critique myself physically (luckily for me it was before social media). It makes it hard for me to believe it when friends tell me stuff like this:

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NB: we weren’t talking about my sister in this! Ha

 

Now, I haven’t written this to gain your sympathy or to encourage people to leave me compliments (that I’ll joke off, obvs) I wrote it to get it out my head and to hopefully change a pattern of behaviour, because now people can call me on it. Now, by airing it, I can hopefully start to realise I’m actually alright and stop being such a douchebag to myself. My new go-to song is Tori Kelly’s ‘Anyway’, as she sings “This is the only Tori that I know how to be…take it or leave it babe, I’m not gonna change…”

Here’s to all the eerrrgh empty vases out there!

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xoxo

Micks

P.S Check out Tori Kelly’s ‘Anyway” HERE. It’s a banger.