Voice of an empathetic

When Millennials Cry “Don’t Judge Me” They’re Secretly Hoping You Will Messages about individuality have hit today’s youth nonstop from all directions. We are constantly reminded that we are perfect just the way we are, we have to be our own brand, and to never surrender our personal identity. No wonder our young workers arrive in the workplace thinking, “This is how I choose to look and the way I choose express myself. I shouldn’t have to change for the sake of a job. So hey, boss! Accept me for who and what I am!” The message: “I have to make this look uniquely mine or I’ll lose me and become you.” As millions of Gen Y’s and Z’s seek ways to prove the uniqueness, we expect the world around us to look on with an approving eye. And when we fall short of that in anyone else’s eyes, our obnoxious mantra becomes “Don’t judge me.” What we really saying, or silently shouting at the top of our lungs is, “Judge me favorably. Judge me to be a hip, cool, one-of-a-kind individual. An...

I am a woman, and I live in a fear of being raped. I live in fear of walking anywhere on my own, not knowing who might be silently watching, or stealthily following behind me. When my head goes to rest on my pillow at night, I fear of our home being broken into, and what they might be looking to steal from me. Riding in a taxi alone has become a trauma in itself, as my mind always wonders who this strange man is, where he might be taking me, and how I can escape from this moving vehicle if I need to. The stats tell me that 1 in every 6 women in India has been the victim of an attempted or completed rape. But we all know that number is far lower than the real one, because so many assaults go unreported. Why ? Because we feel shame. We are often convinced it was our fault. We shouldn’t have drunk so much. We shouldn’t have been wearing that. We shouldn’t have gone back to his flat. And funnily enough, talking about it in detail with a tonne of strangers who often don’t g...

Most of the time you must have noticed I used to complain about my insecurities — the size of my forehead, the size of my nose, the size of my waist. I have treated myself poorly in the past because I could not shake the feeling that I am not good enough. I didn't knew my own worth. I believed that everyone surrounding me was more important, more talented, more valuable. I often thought myself as a bother. I toss the word failure around in my head because it seemed to fit me better than success. However, now there are moments when I force myself to take a step back and look at how much I have grown in the past few years — even the past few months. Even though I feel much more comfortable whining about what a screw up I am, I have to admit that I am proud of myself. I am proud of the person I have become. I have been actively working on myself for a long time. I have tried to become a healthier person. A nicer person. A person with unshakable morals and unstoppable determinati...

There once was a girl that was full of endless dreams. She placed them high upon a shelf and when people she knew and loved would come by she would show them: See my dreams, she would say, I am not sure which way or go or which path to take but I have so many. Many nights she would lie in bed and these dreams would filter through her mind so much that occasionally she would try one on to see how it might fit. Would she be a teacher? A doctor? A vet? A poet? And time went by and years cycled on. Eventually she took hold of one of those dreams and followed it. She fell so far down into the ideal of what she wanted that somewhere along the way she couldn’t remember who she was or what she wanted to be. Light shined on ideas that she had held to be true and formed shadows. She saw that things weren’t always as they seem. And then she became a girl without a dream. She took each one, piece by piece and part by part, and tucked them away. How silly, she would tell the people she k...

"Be neither a conformist nor a rebel, for they are really the same thing. Find your own path and stay on it", advised Paul Vixie. What we think is our nature, is actually a force of habit and Habits have a tenacious hold on us. A conformist will toe the line, with misery in his heart, pain in his eyes, living the life of a docile sheep in the herd. One amongst many, who get tossed and hurt by the shear power of the herd. To conform to already trodden paths and be wary and traumatized of your own unique identity is a squashing and subjugating of your own beacon light...your personal trademark, your own rubber stamp. No one can ever be 'you', for your 'DNA', is peerless and matchless. YOU ARE THE CREATOR'S WONDER. Why do you want to be cowering and hiding like a shy bride, in the shadow of the luminaries? Why should your lamp be a, flickering candle in the vast ocean of light? You are the sun, you are the moon, You are a spectacular, many sp...

Silence Silence can be deafening Blaring and loud It hits the eardrums with ruthless vengeance Silence is ferocious A devil incarnate A spell from Hecate's crossroads Silence can be kill by mutation Gradually pouring venom in tiny doses of non communication Silence is indifferent Never hating or loving Merely disinterested Silence is grapes squeezed into wine Crushed beyond redemption Bitten like nails Silence can be blissful Serene and cloudless As a summer sky in the hills Silence reverberates...