Mariya Ali

I felt slightly awkward, sitting in the corner, all by myself. I was at a friend’s wedding in Calcutta and I didn’t know anyone there. My friend’s family would come over intermittently, amongst all of their chaotic-family-wedding-running-around and check to see if I was ok. I felt bad that I was inconveniencing them so much.

Mayank, the groom, then introduced me to Amit. He had the geek chic look going on, cute little glasses, well dressed and well spoken.

We instantly hit it off.

“Where do you work?” I asked.

“Microsoft”.

Ugh. That’s where Voldemort works. Whenever I hear that word, I shudder. Although it’s not  personal against Microsoft, anything that’s vaguely correlated to that monster makes me cringe.  I shook it off (at Amit’s insistence) and continued to enjoy his company.

As all Indian weddings are multi-function-affairs, I spent a lot of time with my new buddy, Amit. His pregnant wife was back home in Hyderabad and my husband is, well, non-existent, so we found camaraderie in each other.

He had a gentle approach, a good sense of humour and impeccable manners. Considering we had just met, I was touched at how he didn’t ditch me when his friends all showed up, but actually made an effort to include me and would look for me when I would go missing (he quickly realised to either look by the ice cream or on the dance floor).

Amit and I have become friends, and I hope it’s a friendship that stands the test of time, rather than the ones where I tell Mayank, years from now, that I vaguely remember a guy from his wedding who was nice and how I am sad we lost touch.

“It’s nice to know there are good guys out there like you”, I told him.

“There are many”, he coyly replied.

“No there aren’t. And now, when I hear about Microsoft, I will think of you and smile”.

It is so easy to come to the defense of others. How clear it is when others are being used, controlled, manipulated, or abused. It is so easy to fight their battles, become righteously indignant, rally to their aid, and spur them on to victory.

“You have rights,” we tell them. “And those rights are being violated. Stand up for yourself, without guilt.”

Why is it so hard, then, for us to rally to our own behalf? Why can’t we see when we are being used, victimised, lied to, manipulated, or otherwise violated? Why is it so difficult for us to stand up for ourselves?

There are times in life when we can walk a gentle, loving path. There are times, however, when we need to stand up fro ourselves – when walking the gentle, loving path puts us deeper into the hands of those who could mistreat us.

Some days, the lesson we’re to be learning and practicing is one of setting boundaries. Some days, the lesson we’re learning is that of fighting for ourselves and our own rights.

Sometimes, the lesson won’t stop until we do.

“I’m setting my boundaries”, I remember her saying, right before she hung up the phone. In my humble opinion, hanging up the phone on someone in any setting is simply rude, childish and uncalled for. Nevertheless, I remember thinking “well, have fun with your boundaries. They’ll soon be torn apart.”

Months later, I remember being told that my anger was a response to my boundaries being violated.

What boundaries?

What are boundaries?

What are my boundaries?

Over time, I’ve started to analyse and answer these questions. You see, the concept of boundaries is so foreign to me. Perhaps it was my chronic low self-esteem, or my enmeshment in all relationships, or my lack of assertiveness, or my eagerness to please, or an overlap of some or all of those – but the bottom line is that I basically had no idea what a boundary was. With this revelation, many events from my past started to make sense.

So I embarked on a journey to discover my boundaries and eventually implement them. I went from one extreme to another, from having no boundaries to enforcing such strict boundaries that I ended up being completely unforgiving at the slightest sign of someone violating them. I was so hypersensitive to putting myself in another precarious situation that I didn’t leave any room for negotiation.

Now I feel like I’ve struck a good balance. I won’t take crap from people anymore and I will speak my mind. I will say no. I don’t care if you don’t like it.

Mainly though, I will take care of myself the way I take care of others.

Because, well, in the words of L’oreals marketing department, I’m worth it. *Hair flick*

It’s hard to let go

When you are consumed with wanting to stay connected

Yearning to watch the inevitable downfall

Unless, of course, there isn’t one

Which is a bitter thought to swallow

In fact, it’s a thought that gets stuck in your throat

A thought that you choke on.

The anger is all consuming

Waking up in the morning with hands that ache

Clenched fists throughout the night drains my blood

Like how he drained my heart of love

The ability to love, the belief in love, the hope of love

I am left an unbelieving hopeless romantic

No longer dreaming of dancing in the rain

Just resigned to an acceptance of another.

And so when I see that this dream of mine

The dream that was used to torment and torture me

Is now the reality of another

I feel my jaws and hands tighten

I feel the anger simmer deep in my belly

A feeling that was once so foreign, yet now so familiar.

How quickly I was forgotten,

How swiftly I was replaced

But then I remember

Life is a cycle

Karma is real

The inevitable will happen.

And then I fall asleep.