I have yet to swipe out the scars I hide under my bed.
It’s not the end of the world in a sense, but it is something that goes against living life in the ways of a minimalist. Minimal pain. Minimal Insecurities. Minimal sorrows. These are the things I’ve yet to achieve, and sometimes, when the nights get just a little bit darker, that goal of a dust-free room inside my head, seems almost out of reach.
But bad days are, in the end, just as part of our lives as the good days. And when a good day rolls around, I let the sun do its work and try my best to air out my room, reaching under the bed, and clearing out as much of the dust as I can.
From childhood, I can’t say I’ve grown up with the most extravagance of things. I come from a modest family, who always had a slightly more penchant towards their elder child. I won’t say that they did it intentionally, and from my side, there had never been any spite regarding it. It’s the same concept of first love that overflows parents after having their first child, that lingers throughout their lives. It’s not as if my parents ever neglected me. But as the youngest who could never become more than a shadow compared to my elder sibling who had always been gifted, I was put under the light of expectations, rather than considerations more or less. Which, for a kid just entering their teens, could be a little pressuring.
What came out of this ‘second lead role with expectations to succeed’ was that I sort of learned to thrive. Speak less. Ask less. Demand Less and make do. And honestly, this attitude - minus the speaking less part which is not a good thing - has been handy for me throughout my life, as it helped me to always determine what was actually needed, and what I could easily do without. It taught me to not get flooded by sudden whims, taught me to be just a little bit more resilient, taught me to value what I have over what I don’t. And so, for most of my life I did, and still actually do live the minimalist lifestyle, which I simply define as focusing the necessity, while fulfilling little dreams with tiny steps.
My first gift to myself was the guitar I bought with my own money at seventeen. And the latest gift I bought myself was my iPad. I don’t think I’d have been able to do any of those things if I had not kept my head free from unnecessary clatters of whims and wants. There are still things that I have yet to achieve for myself, not to show everyone else that I can, but to show myself that I did.
It took me a while to finally realise that the voices of every taunt and judgement I received were nothing but static noises. They made my head feel heavy, made my words jumble and made my life unbearable. But once I knew how to tune them out, there was nothing but music left for me to hum along to.
So yeah, I’ve still got scars. Stories that haunt me at night, memories that make my world crumble and voices that make things complicated. But with each day passing, I'm teaching myself to hold my sword just a little bit higher, and see the light that is undoubtedly at the end of the tunnel. I’ll get there one day, and until then, I’ll keep on cleaning, keep on airing out my room and let the sunlight in, until there is nothing left but me, my music and all my dreams that are waiting to be fulfilled.
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