Fear of Sharing…

When we were kids, we all had different kind of fears. The shadows in the night that materialize right after our parents switch off the light of your room. That creaky door that always use to give chills down your spine whenever you hear it in between the phase of waking up in the middle of the night. The sound of a bunch of dogs (may be cats for some) that kept barking till they open your eyes wide open. But none of them were even close enough to the fear of expressing yourself in front of people. That’s something in the human genes. Yes it can be controlled as we grow, but at first we all have dealt with situations where we were too hesitant to portray our side of the story.

We all (at least once) have passed through such experience, where we would have done a better job, but we never performed the way we always have visualized it in our mind. That depends upon several factors.

  • lack of confidence
  • resistance of hearing rejection
  • some specific incidence that lead to introversion

Whatever the circumstances might be, but think about it. How much the world is missing just because people are not being open to world they are supposed to? I’m not sure about the west, but here in the east, the education system is not producing any creative generation. Yes, there are a few who surpasses the system to grow their knowledge and expertise beyond the textbooks they are being advised to literally replicate in their minds. This ‘replication’ is causing our kids to lose their own identity. They are being oppressed to copy/paste the exact material found in the text books. Poor kids don’t even know what some specific topic in science or mathematics supposed to mean in our daily lives. They have no opinions of their own. They are being fed with immature and old concepts. I still remember, when I was a kid, I had a bit of a conflict with my teacher when he was teaching us about ‘The Solar System’. I was of the opinion that it’s not just one, there are several, and the teacher insisted there are not. I was right, I had a proof (read it in a ladybird book for kids based on Space). I always have been like this. Debating over some stuff, even over pronunciation of words, which a few of the times have lead me into some very serious trouble.

Beginning of an end

Beginning of an end

So… My concern is, let the pupil show their best. Let them feel the freshness of being free. Free to discuss their opinions. Free to express their view over any stuff. Try to make them participate in the class. A good teacher is always the one teaching ‘out-of-the-books’ things to his/her students. It’s always good to hear others thoughts. Especially the young minds. Their developing theories about nature of things they are yet to experience themselves. Academics is just for developing their professional knowledge, but what about the other experiences? There are a few things which can never be taught by writing long stories on the black-board. You have to involve them with yourselves. Try to make them read and write things that are current, things that can help them understand the nature of their existence, things that let them connect to their CREATOR.

I believe the ‘fear of sharing/expressing’ can be eliminated or at least minimized by showing love and respect for whatever opinion and views the young minds have, no matter how absurd it may sound. Eventually they would start believing themselves, and that can shift the thinking of millions of people in the later years. The ‘followers might turn into leaders 🙂

Internal Management

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It’s kind of both weird and exciting to start my own blog. Weird as blogs have existed since I’ve started using internet itself, around 14 years back. Exciting as its going to be something unusual of me to share something on the internet that is close to me and my personal self. I have been always afraid of sharing something with the world. I write diary, poetry and short stories. Not for anyone but myself. Always scared of sharing and not receiving the kind of response I always wished. Writing something is easy. Writing something worthy of being written is a question every creative artist should ask him/herself before picking up a pen or typing in front of a dimly lit screen on a cloudy weather night, by an artist stroking a brush on a canvas, or by a photographer taking snap. The answer is always hidden in the approach that moves our desires, our emotions to such extent that we start procreating it in one form or the other.

I guess it’s a human nature, not to share something personal, not until the perfect time has come. The perfect gracious time that all of us, the creative beings, wait to arrive. In which we could just express the world what’s inside us, believing that it’ll be appreciated and loved. But sometimes it’s not the acknowledgment we are searching for but a catharsis, like stepping out of a deep well, scribbling a paper on a notepad so rigorously that it starts to tear apart, or wrecking a wall until your hands bleed out! It’s kind of a burden until and unless it is been poured on to a canvas, a paper, a symphony or even a photograph. It’s an emotion that cannot be explained in words. It’s something surreal, ethereal in nature.

To begin with, I have never been anyone that can be termed as creative. It might be just a sheer coincidence that I start seeing patterns whenever I close my eyes, and words came down upon me whenever I sat to write something each night on the bed. I still remember those days. Moving to Jeddah from Dammam was not just a matter of change in place, but a whole different perspective, for me at least. Jeddah has its own charms. It made me a different person. A transition, a metamorphosis in development. A cocoon turning into a moth. It gave me wings. The first poem, the first ideas shaping onto paper as something making sense, rather than words of lunacy. Writing in the light of an IKEA lamp resting on a desk drawer beside my bed. I always let my windows open, as well as the door that leads to the gallery. The air gave me some signs and symbols. A boost may be. I have never felt this tinkling, this whispering any time before this. It was something magical. Each day a new exploration. Sometimes I just kept my diary open for like hours, nothing to write. Waiting for some divine revelations… it’s a part of the deal. You have to wait. The later the better. That’s what I learned.

Anyways, coming back to the present day. I’m starting to write again, or more precisely ‘to type’. A new medium, and yet newer approach. Why am I so interested in writing a blog? Again the inner self. It never misguides me. It’s like voice of GOD. The part of yourself that has conscience, again works on the same principle. It never lies. I have no target to achieve. I’m starting a new phase of my life, or it’s better to say starting to explore it. GOD has never failed me, and INSHA’ALLAH (GOD willing), He won’t ever. That said, I’m confident enough now to speak. To counter any critique that’ll ever be thrown upon me, regarding my work, my words, or even my personal self. The story of our lives continues to expand, with each day that passes by, there’s always something or someone to learn from. Never underestimates even the tiniest bits of inspirations. Those small details helps us to understand the perplexity of life in a better way, which eventually makes us a better human, indeed…

(2:30am Jan 14, 2014)