Living with Insecurities

Let’s face it. All of us have some kind of insecurity, may they be physical or otherwise. The society we live in has created a labyrinth filled with social stigma; one that’s difficult as hell to walk out of. This social stigma has made us - women, especially, reduce ourselves to believe we fall below the high standards imposed upon all of us. Most of us either feel we’re too fat, too thin, too short, too tall, too dark, too pale, too dumb, too outspoken, too quiet, too irritating, too insignificant and so on. Anyway, I’ve compiled a list of things I believe bring insecurity, but they shouldn’t. Please keep in mind that these are purely my personal opinion and I’m not trying to prove any point. You may disagree with me and that’s perfectly fine.

DON’T be insecure about these, ladies:

      1.     Your occupation

“She has a degree but she is teaching Kindergarten?”, “Why is she earning so little?”, “Why isn’t he working in a field he has studied in?”. So many questions, where are the answers? They don’t exist, probably because we don’t owe ANYBODY an explanation of what we want to do in our lives. People will always question what we do for a living and why we choose to do it. If you’re a teacher, they claim you sing nursery rhymes for a living. If you’re a personal trainer, they say you earn money only using your body and not your brains. If you’re a model, they say you don’t wear clothes. If you’re a working mom, they say you have no time for your kids. If you’re a stay-at-home mom, they say you do nothing but manicures when the baby’s asleep.

What you choose to do is entirely a choice you make on your own. Today, making a comfortable living for yourself is obviously a primary consideration when looking for a job, but at the end of the day, you’d like to do whatever makes you happy. And if you’re content, the society shouldn’t matter to you. You’re not eating out of their plates anyway.

      2.     How you look in pictures

Once upon a time, I was guilty of this insufferable insecurity. When I saw a tagged picture of me in Facebook, I’d quickly observe every part of that picture and then decide whether or not to keep the tag or untag myself. Honestly, I was lame. If you still do this, you really shouldn’t.

I stopped right after I started believing that I was so much more than a bad picture of myself. And you are too. A bad picture doesn’t signify a bad life or a bad person. It was clearly, just a bad Kodak moment.

By the way, a little fact, years ago I got tagged in a somewhat-less-than-pretty-picture of me but I let it be. My husband (back then a stranger) saw it and somehow liked the picture which then got him to adding me on Facebook. Honestly, for someone out there, the picture you despised may seem utterly adorable to someone out there. Of course, my grandma loves all of my pictures LOL.

Another fact. Someone once pointed at me on how we’re not supposed to squint our eyes, stick out our tongues on purpose for social media uploads. I found this utterly dumb. If you’re an idiot like me who loves making dumb faces in real life, why can’t we do the same in the virtual world. Seriously, people put up facades online and this is something I cannot keep up with.

      3.     Your relationship status

I know single people who freak out every Valentine’s Day or in fact, every day, because they’re single. They’re probably calling me out on this point because “she’s married. How would she know?”. I know, because I was single for many years before I met this stranger I now call my husband. People seem to think they’re incomplete without a partner, or that they’re just one part of a single whole. Honestly, what do they expect to find in a partner that can make feel whole again?

You, my dear, were born without a partner. You survived your whole life without a permanent fixture of a partner and can probably go on for much longer. The more you crave for a significant other, the more vibes you’re sending off as being needy. Take it easy, they’re out there.

      4.     Your physical appearance

If your physical appearance physically and literally bothers you, then please, be insecure and do something about it. But if they only bother other people, tell them to shove it.

I’ve been told, yes actually been told to my face that 1. I need to lose belly fat, 2. I need braces, 3. I need laser treatment because my glasses apparently aren’t “cool”, 4. My thumb looks ugly. None of which I have bothered listening to HAHA. I still have a belly (I love you, Coca-Cola!), I am secretly proud of my rabbit teeth, I LOVE MY GLASSES and I still bite the nail on my thumb to death. LOL. So be it. I don’t care.

This goes back to our society and their imposition on how a girl should look like. If you are one of them who have a list that sounds like “long hair, fair skin, long nails, …, …, …”, get a life, darling. Oh and while you’re at it, a new list too (which says intelligence at the top). By the way, those stretch marks, we all have them. Chill.

  

      5.   Make-up

I have nothing against make-up. In fact, I love make-up! I honestly find it an effort to walk by Sephora without mentally making a list of what I want.

But (there’s always a but with me, isn’t there?), when it reaches a point where you find it physically impossible to leave home without make-up, you know you’re in trouble. How less confidence would you need to have if you’re unable to feel good in your own skin?

Parents, this is where I think you should come in. I first encountered eyeliners when I was 19 years old. 19 !!! And it wasn’t just me, it was a whole lot of people who I see in their naked face everyday. Now, it’s a generation of 12 year olds with a fully furnished face. Please, mommies, do your thing.

      6.     Age

Granted, I’m 27. A baby for most people. I am yet to figure out why people lie about their age and in fact sometimes hide it. I personally find it so weird. What is there to worry about your age? Sure, you can do various tricks to stop physical aging (Botox, facelifts, facial exercise, thread implants, drink water, facials) but there is nothing we can do to stop the literal aging, so why fret?

Personally, I don’t support going under the knife but each to their own.

Anyway, I’ll let you know how I feel about my age in 23 years.

      7.     Being too opinionated

I’m gonna chase down to the point. If someone says you’re too smart/too opinionated, that person isn’t for you. Clearly, that person either has no guts to raise their standards to match yours or simply isn’t as intelligent enough to hold a conversation beyond the intellect of a teaspoon. Could it be that instead of you being too strong, they are too weak? Think about it. NEVER ever dumb yourself down for anyone. NEVER compromise your thoughts just because someone thinks you’re wrong. NEVER doubt yourself because people have a hard time accepting your train of thoughts.

Personally, I had a lot of insecurities, which eventually I grew out of (some of them, at least). But at the end of the day, I’m not sure if we can live life in a fully secured manner. There will always be something we’re not happy about and that, according to me, up to a certain standard, is healthy enough. If something makes us insecure, then we should be able to do something about it. For instance, if our weight ties us down, hit the gym. If our acne annoys us, start taking care of your skin. But if the situation is such that we cannot control/change, then by all means, we should work to eradicate that insecurity, like what I said earlier about our age.

Life is too short to live under someone else’s shadow.

Chronicles of Being On Time

My first job interview was gruesome. It was a sunny (read: hot as the satan that inhabits hell) day in Jakarta. I woke up early enough, left home way too early and yet I arrived 10 minutes late. What can I say? My so-called expert taxi driver got lost and had the shortest temper I’ve ever seen. Needless to say I didn’t strike a very good first impression with the interviewer, not just because of tardiness. I carried that insecurity, flustered energy throughout the interview. The warm temperature had me sweating and its common to sweat when you are stressed anyway. I don’t know what got them into offering me the job, but I didn’t end up taking it (salary was miniscule and they’d get eaten up by my hour/daily commute anyway). Ever since, I don’t think I’ve ever been late anywhere.

Tardiness seems to be a way of life for most people. At least, most people I know. People are known to arrive real late ANYWHERE. But of course, there are two types of late comers.

First type is the people who TRY to be on time. Somehow, they make self-promises to do whatever they can to reach on time and yet fail to do so. Some people prefer to call it as sociopathic disorder but since I don’t know much about it, I’d rather not comment. These are the ones who end up getting highly stressed when running out of the door, already late. You can tell by their sweaty faces, flustered looks, jittery hands, nervous finger-tapping and so on. If you are amongst these people, you need to constantly make the effort to be on time. I assure you, you’ll get there ;)

The second type of people is the type who I want to kill. Those who deliberately come late and remain guiltless about it. Honestly, if they say this is part of a certain culture (ever heard of Sindhi timing?), then this is where those adapting this culture need to grow the hell up. I fail to understand what in the world makes it okay for people to make others wait for them. By doing that, they are simply showing their true characters; selfish, inconsiderate prudes who think time belongs to themselves. No matter how much we chide them for it, it only seems to pop in from an ear and leave from the other. Which is, to say the least, sad. If they fail to acknowledge it as a bad habit, then never will they be on the roads to recovery for their tardiness. And as wrong as this may sound, I end up criticizing people they grew up with (siblings, parents, etc). I think to myself, “Poor fella. His folks didn’t teach him the most basic of all manners in the world”. What is even more irritating if this person comes all decked up with make up and then apologizes because they ran out of time. Sure, you have enough time to put face powder to convert you from a Mediterranean to an Asian, but you couldn’t spare 2 minutes thinking about how you kept everyone waiting. I have a new word to add to your vocabulary. Its called priorities.

Timeliness speaks a lot about yourself. It simply tells people that by being on time, you are able to manage your own time, value other people’s time and energy and cares enough about the agenda to arrive well on time. It also speaks highly about how you’ve been raised, and what education you were fed with. By education, I don’t mean a fancy college degree but the way you’ve been taught about valuing time and people. If you’re never on time, well, you’re an idiot.

“But what if I had a flat tire? And what if my baby suddenly cries so loudly, he wakes up a hibernating polar bear? And what if the traffic goes beyond its usual craziness?”. Sure, we’ve all been there. There are just some instances we can’t control. But hey, the 21^st century brought us a technology developed by the wonderful Industrial Revolution. It’s called a cellphone. It can be used to inform other people with phones that a matter has come up that may prohibit you from coming on time. This device also lets other people contact you to know what in the world is keeping you away. All you have to do is click and say “hello”. It’s easy, my 3-year-old nephew can show you.

Personally, I do not like arriving late. I am one of those who prefer being earlier than everybody else, simply to either get a good seat, spend a lavish amount of time ogling the menu to choose my meal, avoid stress when traffic hits me up, avoid being annoyed when people call me a gazillion times asking where am I and so on. Again, this may be irksome to those people who always come late. Actually, latecomers should write a blog post, stating how early comers bug them. HA! Funny story, this was one of the ways I evaluated my husband, back when we just met each other. If he turned out to be one of those late people when picking up their girlfriends, he’d be a no-no. Fortunately for us both, he’d either be 5 minutes early or right on time.

If you find tardiness also annoying, start by reminding people around you. You can also do that with your children. Teach them to value of time and implement timeliness at home. If you are a latecomer yourself and want to change, you are already a step ahead then those losers who find it cool to walk in a room late, with eyes gazing upon them, evaluating their stupidity. I do several things to keep me bright and early everywhere I go, which are tips you can take. I make several alarms since I’m a deep sleeper (sorry, hubby), make checklists of my to-do to help remind me I need an early start, plan my day in advance and time them to know when I’ve gone overboard, organize where I keep my things to grab them quickly (keys, wallet, bags. Still terrible with my phone but at least that can be located with a call haha) and most importantly, I keep those who may wait for me informed. If I ever feel like I may be running late, I make sure to tell people in advance that I am expected shortly but a little later than planned. That way, you don’t keep people waiting for too much time and stay chilled while trying to get there as soon as you can. WIN WIN!

Help me make this hellhole a better place and teach others how to make full use of their expensive wristwatches (seriously, its Rolex on every other wrist, aren’t they used to tell time at all?)

Phew! I’ve been wanting to get this off my chest for the longest time. If you are reading this, thanks for staying all through my rants. Until next time! J

Funny Habits Sindhis Possess

As always, I start with a disclaimer. I am a full-on Sindhi. My last name(s) end with a –ani, I love papad and laugh heartily when my folks say “ edjhe kele ja bhare” (kids nowadays). Spending 27 years (and counting) in a Sindhi household has made me realise, we have so many weird habits. Bad habits? Or just plain funny? You decide.

Sindhis don’t exactly have a home country to go to. There is no longer a country called Sindh. It will always be a small province in Pakistan. But if you’re not a Sindhi, chances are that you can easily spot us all over the world, doing one or few of the following. Mind you, this is just for fun. No one needs to get offended. After all, all of us, including me, are guilty for at least one of the following habits!

1. If you receive food in a Tupperware that is yellow-stained, don’t worry. It’s nothing dreadful. That is where we keep our leftover dhal (lentils) and achar (pickles). Somehow, there is always dhal in a Sindhi fridge. Our homemakers make them a lot and store leftovers for what seem like months. Personally, I’m not exactly a dhal person so those yellow Tupperwares put me off. And the smell! Ooooohhhh the smell! Its not gross, but its not exactly flowers-on-grass-and-leaves-in-the-air summery kinda smell, you know what I mean? If I have to describe it, it smells a little like salty, dried leafy greens. I challenge you Sindhis, go ahead and ask your mom or grandma if there is some dhal in the fridge. If they say no, stakes are high they will whip some up right away.

2. There is no such thing as a light vacation. Tell someone you are travelling for the holidays and expect lots of parcels. One for their friend, another for their aunt, aunt’s daughter, aunt’s daughter’s friend, aunt’s daughter’s friend’s cousin and maybe even their dog. And the dog’s puppy. You get the gist. After all, we are nice people who like making others happy, so we shut up and bring them all if we have the weight. Lo and behold, all those people you passed on parcels to, returned the favour and probably passed along gifts for your mom, dad, brother, nephew, aunt, uncle, cousins, grandparents and it goes on and on and on and on. I don’t remember travelling ANYWHERE without carrying things for other people. It’s different when we choose to buy gifts for people (which we do happily) but when others make us bring their stuff? Totally acceptable if they do so with ethics (small sized, light-weighted items). But no, I will not bring 10 kgs of mithai (indian sweets) to feed your entire nation of family.

3. If not for others, people will ask us to carry things for themselves. If they hear you are travelling, they summon you to bring all kinds of things. But, without mentioning any name, a friend of mine recently brought a COFFEE TABLE abroad, as a request from her aunt who she’s staying over at while abroad. I mean, a coffee table? Again, this is socially acceptable when ethics accompany. But seriously, a coffee table?

4. While we’re still in the context of vacation, I have to say this. Somehow, I feel like we know EACH AND EVERY SINDHI FAMILY IN THAT TOWN. Which makes us need to visit each and every one of them. Can you ever go somewhere and see each and every nook and cranny of the city? Impossible, because there will lunches. And dinners. And coffee. And if we don’t go, we’ll never hear the end of it. “There are just 2 homes to visit” they say, and then add, “oh but how can we not go to the Mulanis? Oh and the Nanwanis? And the Vasnanis live just next door”. Sure.

5. Make sure you keep your stomach empty while going to people’s houses. Pump your stomach prior if you must. Because, you will be fed. I mean it, they will not let you go without eating an entire plate that can feed a whole third world country. If you don’t, they will assume you are on a diet and start exclaiming why we’ll get ill or they will even take it personally that their food isn’t great. “You want some aloo tikki?”, “what about some mithai?”, “okay at least try the pakoda”, “why aren’t you eating anything?”, “you can't leave without eating”, “okay take home some biryani”.

6. Don’t trust us when we say that we are leaving. Because we won't. Customarily, as hosts, you tend to drop us off at the doorstep. But then, the conversation will start over. New topics will unfold. New gossips will unravel. New names will pop up. Another country will be developed. A new Harry Potter movie will be made. Another religion will be founded. And that’s when we’ll finally go home.

7. Tell your folks of the yesteryear generation that you are seeing someone and the first question will be “is he/she sindhi?”. “Sure, he/she is a Sindhi. He/She is covered in racist tattoos, tells crude jokes, is a chronic drug user, considers profanity a language, smuggles children for a living, stole from my wallet last week, but that shouldn’t matter as long as I choose a Sindhi, yes?”.

By the way, my mom’s first question was “can he dance?” seeing that she is dance expert herself. Yikes. Moms.

8. Dine with a Sindhi on a Monday and prepare to see the world’s biggest eyes if you order a non-vegetarian meal. Sindhis have this tradition about being vegetarian on Mondays. They call it “God’s Day” because apparently, God is on vacation every other day? Hey, I don’t mind what you choose to eat. Let me do the same and we’re good. Oh, I do try to stick to my veggie days. Not because its God’s Day *insert eye roll here* but because a balanced lifestyle is good.

One uncle once called me “religion-less” because I forgot it was a Monday and I ordered a chicken sandwich. My dad heard the story and called HIM the religion-less one. Dad, you’re awesome. My granny's pretty cute too. I jokingly asked her I'd go to hell for eating meat on Monday and she said "paap mukhe de, tu bhale kha" which translates "Just pass me the sins, you go on and eat". HAHA. 

And that’s it! I’m pretty sure we awesome Sindhis can associate with the above and can even relate to doing one of the above.

It sounds like we are very odd people. But hey, which culture doesn’t have some kind of oddity in them? Needless to say, I’m proud of my culture, where I came from and the values instilled to me by my Sindhi families. I assure you, we are a bunch of really large-hearted people. We go out of our way to help one another. We don’t have to know you, but you’d only need to ask and we will be at your door. We get a little excited at parties, we great each other a little too loudly, our jewelry may blind you a little bit (you hear that, pretty aunties?), our wedding outfits get heavier by the year, our uncles drink a lot of Johnny Walker, but we’re a pretty amazing bunch of people. We love it when non-indians wear our traditional clothing. We share our yummy food with everyone. We sing Bollywood songs with so much happiness and are happy to tell you their meaning (okay technically, Bollywood is Hindi but po-tay-to po-tah-to).

 I’m Sindhi and proud, are you?

Orientation Days = Not Very Orienting?

October 2015. So recently (okay, not very recent), our Ministry of Education released a law stating that orientation at universities must be led by lecturers, not students. A cup of hot chocolate accompanied me that day at my Master’s campus in Yogyakarta, when I overheard the news from a nearby television. I quickly grabbed my cell and Googled the news for confirmation. It was true!

You’re probably wondering why this news brought about such happiness to me, considering the fact that my university freshman days are way behind me? Truth it, those days passed by physically, but not mentally. But let me start from the beginning.

February 2007. I cant remember the date exactly, but I received a phone call from my first choice of university in Jakarta (whose name I have decided to omit, but those who know, oh well), informing me that I have aced their entrance requirements and that I was officially in, if I wanted to proceed with the application. I was ECSTATIC! Of course, studying abroad was my dream but being daddy’s little girl, he couldn’t get acquainted with the idea of sending me away. Either way, I got to go to my choice of local campus, so all’s well that ends well. I went ahead with the application, received my info pack a couple of days later and that I was in. I was officially a freshman, along with some peers from high school.  

Excitement, excitement! I was counting for my orientation days. I couldn’t wait to meet my classmates, my lecturers, get a hold of my books, new stationeries (I’m a sucker for good writing tools) and ditch my school uniform! I wish I wasn’t as excited as I was then, because the days to come, were a bunch of nightmares.

August 2007. Pre-orientation day came upon us. The orientation crew consisted of senior students, comprising of class mentors, disciplinary team and other supporting divisions. My own class mentors were lovely. The crew developed a pretty strict chain of events for orientation, along with a equally stringent dress code. There were so many do-it-yourself items to carry; a signboard to be hung down our necks the whole time, a made-from-scratch notebook for assignments, hand-drawn university logo and so on. On top of that, we received a crap load of assignments, had to join an out-of-town excursion and so on. I didn’t mind them. At first.

A bunch of us reached the campus together on our first orientation day. We were late as there was a no-personal-car policy during orientation (parking around campus was a bummer). Joining an initial checking line, some of us had our name tags taken for “punishment” and had to write our lateness issue on our signboards. My first impression was that they were a team of tough seniors. We weren’t greeted well, treated like children, had our bags opened for content check and were instructed like robots. The day proceeded fine. Several info sessions were wonderful, which involved several lecturers and other academic representatives. But I distinctly remember, our assignments were left unchecked, despite of the constant reminders for completion. The whole day’s event took place up to late in the evening, with a bunch of more assignments to be handed the next morning. On top of that, those who had faults on their signboards were asked to stay back. We were made to assemble in the front lobby and we were HUMILIATED to death. We were screamed at. We were laughed at. Some ass**** caught me shivering (yes, that’s how bad it was) and he and his friend sniggered behind my back. Whatever. I don’t remember what the screaming was about. Something about being responsible, being prepared for more tasks to follow.

Day 2. No lateness this time. But my name tag was initially taken for wearing a dark blue belt (the note wanted black but this was the closest I had). They let me go upon seeing my scared-as-hell face and my explanation that after the previous day’s late event, how was I supposed to go out and get a new belt? Of course, I got the typical “how do you not have a black belt? That is so weird” a million times. Yes, because my fashion choice is to be determined by my college seniors. Do you want to pick out my wedding dress too? Anyway, I got to keep my name tag, which meant no senior screaming down my neck. Our assignments received a small note this time. At least they were read. Later during the day, we learnt more details about our excursion, which was a one-night stay somewhere away from Jakarta. Sounds fun? Think again.

Excursion. We gathered real early to make our way to the outbound location. I felt relieved to be off-campus. The change felt good. Upon reaching, we found out that we were to sleep in barracks. Wooden huts with one small light bulb. No pillows, no blankets. I didn’t mind as I’m adaptable and honestly, rather adventurous. The weather grew cold towards the evening and the only thing that would keep us warm was our orange overalls, which we were told to wear 24/7. Mine got dirty and smelly within the first hour due to the muddy games but no one was allowed to exchange them for a new set. Our phones were taken without notice on how long until we get them back. Bathrooms were dirty. No plumbing. No lights. I would have used my phone for lighting, BUT IT WAS TAKEN AWAY FROM ME. Still, I didn’t complain. It was just one night.

But then, the worst happened. Night time. We were all asked to sleep by 10 pm with warning; we must keep our shoes on at night, along with our overalls and helmet. Sleep with our shoes on? Something funny I expected for sure and I was spot on. I left out my shoes, as they were wet. At around 2 am, an array of firecrackers were shot, along with what sounded like a police alarm. We were woken up by force and rushed to the main outdoor area. Upon reaching, we were asked to lay flat, head down on the floor like slaves. An ant nest was right under my chin and I put my face up to locate elsewhere. A huge hand touched my head and forced it down. No explanations were allowed to be given. An ant nest was on my face.

We were then broken into groups and tasked. The worst task of the day. We were to enter the forest individually and follow a designed trail to reach the other end of the forest. We weren’t allowed torchlights. So literally, the only thing guiding our path was the rope for trail. A slip up and we would have been lost in the woods without light. Granted, they had people in every post in the forest so the chances of being lost were small but we were frightened to death. My turn came and I decided to ignore my active imagination and walked by. I felt surprisingly brave and walked confidently until I felt a cold hand on my rope. That was when I found out, they had placed not only people to help us keep our track, but also placed fake ghosts to spook us out. The hand I touched turned out to be a kid’s, who dressed as a “tuyul” or a ghost-boy. I lost my breath. It was cold, my shoes and overalls were wet, I couldn’t see a thing and a creepy figure was in front of me. I walked away. I don’t know how but I did. There were more challenges along the way. Someone threw leaves on me to freak me out. Another one made eerie laughs. What felt like hours finally came to an end and I joined the rest of the team around a bonfire. It was in the wee hours in the morning that we got back to our barracks, sneaked in 2 hours of sleep and woke up to pack for home. HOME!!! The word never sounded as good before. I must have slept through the whole way home. No shower, no toilet (my cubicle had beetles), my hair was completely tangled and barely any sleep, I was a zombie back home. My folks were so worried, was this how my next 4 years was going to be?

No. not at all. My apologies to the orientation crew, but none of the activities prepared us in any way for our university years. My lecturers never screamed at us, we were never humiliated for poor quality of work, we never had to record our faults on a humiliating signboard, academic reps listened to our queries and assisted us the whole way through, I never had to pull an all-nighter. So what was the point of the whole orientation routine? It was probably downright to embarrass us, intimidate us and show their position as seniors in the campus. My next 4 years sailed so smoothly, I couldn't have asked for more. Later on, I applied to join the committee of the orientation days, simply to help put a change for the next batch as honestly, it was painful to see the cycle on repeat. With a bunch of other people, we did manage some changes, although being freshmen, we couldn’t do so much.

In other developing countries, bullying during orientation is common. In India, some were made to strip in the nude, wear pigtails on their hair and dance to trashy tunes. A case in Taiwan showed freshmen being asked to pose on the roads to garner attention and laughs. This makes me feel sad because orientation is supposed to “orient” you in the days to come. In most countries, it was about survival skills in college, what to wear and what not to wear, how to ace our papers, how to choose our classes, how to shape our careers upon graduation, how to manage our load of tasks and all else, none of which we received during our orientation. Those who we managed to ask, answered fine and showed empathy but overall, we were treated like scums.

This was why I as happy for future freshmen, as they didn’t have to go through what most of the people my age did. The whole set of activities were traumatizing and I do not exaggerate the word traumatize. A few of my friends passed out during the excursion and refused to attend the first day of classes. Anyway, the law passed by the ministry of education received a lot of flak initially, mostly by campus seniors all over the country who actively took part in "welcoming" freshmen. Some freshmen too were heard complaining as they wanted to be at the other end of the torture. But overall, the law has been passed well and I believe lecturers are doing a better job at elaborating what campus life is like. Students are also involved in the activity but under supervision from lecturers to avoid unforeseeable circumstances. I honestly believe, it is human right to be asked to be treated with fairness and justice. We have the right to exercise freedom of speech and have a right to be heard. Bullying is not cool. Governments all over the world have worked hard against bullying and reduce to mental effect of bullying in freshmen. It is unacceptable for reputed universities to participate in demeaning chain of events that can scathe even the bravest of people. Kudos to the Indonesian government for the attempt of protecting freshmen!

It has been 8 years. But my active imagination still takes me back to the forest, clutching the cold hand of a little boy who sneered at me with black eyes and stone-white hands.