One summer morning, many years ago, I woke up in a strange land and realized, life, as I knew it, was never going to be the same. But I was used to change and knew, along with fear came hope and an open canvas to paint my life the way I wanted to. Like many others, I dove in to the unknown, got lost, and finally when I came up for air, I realized, I was an alien.
I did not recognize the people around me anymore. Their language sounded foreign and it was difficult to decipher what they were trying to convey. It occurred to me I was living in some strange land these past years where I was expected to do things a certain way that made me different from who I was really meant to be. I pulled my veil further down, hid my soul and trotted that path till something deep down forced me to swim harder to reach the shore. When I finally did, things made more sense to me and me alone. I had strayed from those who still had not seen land; to them I was glaring down from above the surface, a face full of teeth, a heart full of joy and newfound freedom. I was finally able to breathe and the air was fresh.
What I did not anticipate were the responsibilities that came with choosing to be an alien. It urged me to dive down into the darkness, to be existent in a world I was familiar with, to tread the path I was programmed to take and to continue to believe that I had to change for the greater good. I fight these urges daily, it is hard work and they leave their marks. But fight it I will. I will no longer look at myself covered in grime that the world below now leaves on my skin. I will no longer understand those who I left behind, who willingly live hidden behind those veils in a world they have crafted with their ugly lies. The veil now resembles iron bars, rusty and old. I look into their eyes and feel nothing but an emptiness that I fought so hard to forego. The riches that I once craved for could only afford to buy them shackles that bind them in captivity. They live below, shrouded in secrecy, under those murky waters, eyes hidden behind the filth, for they are afraid, just like I was, to be an alien.
I am an alien with wings. I fly. I soar.
I am an alien with claws. I run. I roar.
I look up and down and all around.
My mouth tries not to make a sound.
For if it does, out will come,
The shameless and ignorant things you’ve done.
I am an alien who lives with suns and stars.
Who has built a home that is ours.
A home so pure, so full of love,
Bathed in light, strewn with doves,
Butterflies and lady bugs.
A home that will continue to rise,
Like the alien with no reprise
I am an alien who knows how to fight,
But also knows love at first sight.
I know this is foreign to you, my friend.
Something you will never comprehend.
I hope one day you are able to swim,
To leap, to fly, to soar from within.
Because only then, will you truly know
What it means to see your life aglow.
—mala paul
Flommist Mala Paul is a protégé of the goddess of ten hands. Form to formless all in a day’s job. A mother, designer, dancer, foodie, fashionista, blogger, who is always ready to be the change. Copyright © 2015 Mala Paul. All rights reserved.
PLEASE SUPPORT FLOMM
TIPS + DONATIONS DISCREETLY ACCEPTED