Came across this wonderful collection of essays, biographical sketches, poems and anecdotes by various real strong women out there in the world in an anthology of sorts titled: “33 things every girl should know”
There are some gems within, that brought some amazing eye-opening visions into my muddled head and I can only imagine what a source of strength, resilience and hope it can give to a young girl coping with adversities and the realities of the world she grows into. The stories, mostly subtle also drive home a point to ultimately value and treasure the fine young lady that one is within each of the girls, and most importantly to become a sensible level headed human being despite it all. Someone that’s strong yet sensitive to one’s own self while knowing when and how to prioritize the needs and wants at different levels.
33 different stories told by real women, and this one story stuck out to me. An explanation as to why one would behave the way one does, despite the age.
When a 55 year old woman jumps with joy like a 6 year old getting her first pink bike, or when the old man breaks down into tears when he discovers his favorite book isn’t lost after all, or when a teenager plays with her barbies in her closet, or when the grandmother secretly stashes the lollipops that her grandson brings form phoren, or the time when a 35 year old man whines at the sight of a flu.. (oh, okay the last is a flaw more than an attribute to this concept, but we’ll let that slip) … and similar such behaviors.
When we act out of our prescribed age bracket. The occasional random acts or thinking patterns of neoteny that almost all of us exhibit, some brazen enough to not care how they are portrayed to others (like me) and then the large bunch of closet “juvies”.
I like this concept of Sandra Cisneros that she explains in the essay; Eleven (an excerpt here) and the downloadable pdf here.
Because the way you grow old is kind of like an onion or like the rings inside a tree trunk or like my little wooden dolls that fit one inside the other, each year inside the next one. That’s how being eleven years old is.
I like that concept. Now, I can go sulk in a corner or throw a fit at the husband and claim to be an irrational 12 year old. Except that it may just not fly with him as much considering my 12 year old’s a precocious little bundle that am massively proud of myself and I may just look more stupid than well, cute.
O well, thank heavens for blogs.
Very interesting–thanks so much for sharing 🙂
Sweet of you to comment, thanks 🙂
Hmm…thanks for sharing.
u welcome Mahendra 🙂
“Now, I can go sulk in a corner or throw a fit at the husband and claim to be an irrational 12 year old.”
You mean you don’t do it already? Wow.
I do. I just have found a perfect reason too now.
Looks like a good book to read. I had read something similar a few years ago. One of them had a story or was compiled by a second-generation Indian. But what struck me the most was that even stories from Sweden, Finland and America in the early sixties-late seventies mirrored our Indian upbringing in the eighties! It was an eye-opener. I have been trying to find the book, I think I lent it out and cannot find it now.
True. I believe most of the differences that we see now is in the last decade or two. The way things were all over has been the same, people and their minds are inherently the same with just minor differences of the environment playing a role on their cultural upbringing. My 2 cents.
lol@lost books. I’ve lost many treasures. Decided am clamping down after losing Jules Verne, a gift from a school friend back home.
You know I had read somewhere that all of us have an internal age. That if you were to get beaned one day and were asked what age were you, that would be the age you would playback. Chances are that is true. The mind sort of gets stuck in an age and you can operate at various other bands and function well at that. But in the heart of hearts thats always going to be the age you see yourself.
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