I once heard someone saying
anything that comes down from the sky is pretty.
I remember being so fascinated by it,
but now, when I find myself half-wet
in the rain at a bus stop waiting for a bus,
I find it ridiculous—
how insane it is that we love things
when we are not affected by them,
but the moment they interfere with our life,
our opinion changes.

Isn't all parts of nature like that though?
Be it snow, hail, storm—
everything looks pretty
when you see it from the window of your house,
but the moment we are forced to open the door
and brave the weather,
we find ourselves disliking it.

The same is true for all humans:
when we see them from mere windows
and are not affected by their presence in life,
we like them,
but that opinion mostly changes
once they become part of our life,
once we let them in
by opening the door of our life.

Likes and opinions can therefore
be prone to change in life,
depending on the situation we find ourselves in.

Hatred is a word I am used to use very often,
but is it really hatred that I have?
Is a question,
the answer to which I got sooner than I thought.
Hatred is a double-edged sword,
harms both parties involved,
and is burden to who carries it.
I have one such person
who is supposed to mean the whole world to me,
but I hate him—
or so I thought,
until I realised it's not him who I hate,
but the qualities in him
which are a reflection of mine that I hate.
The qualities that are banished
in some corner of my heart,
’cause I never want to possess them—
but still do.
They are like rotten wood
which cannot be cut
unless they are uprooted.
Point is: when we say we hate,
it's not opposite of love,
’cause you see,
the opposite of love is ignorance.
Hatred is born
when the qualities you hate in yourself
are seen in others.
Either you already possess them
or are afraid of possessing them,
and that's why you hate—
or else you would ignore,
’cause our mind can store limited data.
So don’t try to untangle
all those banished thoughts at once.
Find the opening
and slowly untie.
Then you will see
all that is left
is indifference towards the hated one,
and less burden on heart.
Loving is hard,
indifference is harder,
and hating is hardest—
’cause we carry
the burden of hatred

I, as a curious human being,
love to question choices—
whether they are mine or others’.
But I like questioning the latter,
as I used to feel they are not related to me.

But alas, how wrong I was,
’cause the choices I thought didn’t affect me
were affected by me.

I always have questioned the choices of my mother:
why is she so determined about things?
Why is she so stubborn,
never minding her business?

But who would tell the  foolish me—
it takes two hands to clap,
and with one, it’s a slap.

The foolish and immature behavior of mine
were the reasons, I thought,
behind her choice of life.

But then I learned
it was because she made a choice
to be my mother.

So before questioning choices of others,
question yours.
You will find they are your choices,
but are made due to others around you as well.

And hence, follow the same principle
while questioning others
about their choices.

And the lesson I learnt:
never question someone else’s choices—
for what you end up finding
might only add to your burden.

Bullying is of two types—
Physical and mental,
And sometimes both.

And there is a third type,
Unknown to people,
Because we all have somehow participated in it:
The ignorance.

Ignoring the victims,
Because they are not us,
Because the victim is not our loved ones.
So what if they are humans?
So what if they get hurt like us?

The ignorance is because it is not us,
It’s them.
The third type is the most famous,
And the most widely done bullying.
Because, as they say—
The silence of bystanders is encouragement to the bullies,
And discouragement to the victims.

But things can be changed.
Bullies enjoy the fear of their victims,
The isolation they cause makes them feel superior.
Yet just by taking the side of the victims,
Standing by them,
Is enough for the superiority to disappear.

The victims are in the minority,
That is why they can be crushed.
But what if the bystanders,
Even in silence,
Move to the victims’ side?
Then they will be the majority—
And majority wins.

Sometimes the victims are not those
Who lack courage to fight,
But those who lack the power to do so.

So it is a humble request
To all the bystanders:
Open the blindfold you think you are wearing.
You are not fooling the world,
You are only fooling your own conscience.

Stand by the victims.
So that when your loved ones are in trouble,
Someone among the bystanders will choose
To stand with them and protect.

And this will be the vaccine
To the never-ending cycle,
The disease of bullying.