Scars and survival

It is not always that I don't have anything to write and it is not always time management concerns. Sometimes its just that I avoid personal things on blog. I have always avoided that. But in my hostel years, I really didn't have much personal things. Now that my life revolves around office and home with almost no ME time, the only things that come to my mind are personal. I fear of being judged. I don't want my family and friends to understand things which I may not mean at all. 

We all do this. Sometimes we hide our scars, our sobs and we silently weep being afraid of being judged. We hate saying that we are hurt. We pretend to be happy or become silent, not letting our feelings out.

We should be like children, cry our hearts out when hurt. And soon be happy with tiny things of life -a paper boat, a toy, a toffee or a story. 

When my son broke and dislocated his elbow bone, he was just a year and eight months old. The moment we were back from hospital after his surgery, he was back on his tricycle -all happy. He was on cast for the next four months. He cried when it pained, but soon shifted his mood to a happy one with a simple distraction trick.  Now after almost 2 years, the scar of some twenty stitches is still there. He still remembers how he fell from the slider in the park. But he is not afraid of using the slider. He shows off that scar to his friends with pride, "Look how strong I am!". When I heard him saying this to his friend, I scolded him, "It's not great to get hurt, Vishnu! You should be careful!", I said.

But on a deeper thought, may be this is what we should learn from kids. Scars are but a sign on strength and survival. Kids show their scars with pride. As we grow old, we hide them. Wounds become our secrets. For kids it is a story to tell- An accomplishment.