an auto graphical essay

i wrote this essay while preparing for my CSS english essay paper. thought i ought to save it.
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I always wanted to be someone; I should have been more specific.
I read this somewhere some years back and though the author’s name eludes me, the sentence just stayed with me. I remember back in third grade, we were asked to write an essay on ‘myself’. We were trained to acknowledge only our positive side. For instance, I wrote that I was punctual, that I obeyed my parents, was kind to my siblings etc. In simple words, I concluded the essay by writing that I was a ‘good girl’. I guess my teacher believed me and I got an A on my essay.

Years have passed. I am no longer a bright student and certainly not a good girl. Years have passed since I have been either. I can’t say that I am completely disappointed in how I turned out. I turned out to be someone…I just didn’t turn out to be the ‘Batool Fatima’ I wanted to be. When I think subjectively, I have a good degree from one of the best universities in the country. I started working before I graduated, the first in my class to land a double figure job. And my job has its perks. I get to travel and every now and then I meet really brilliant people. I have good career prospects if I decide to stick to this profession. And my biggest assets are my faith and my family. My father, though strict at times, has always supported me. My mother is probably the world’s most uncomplicated person. My brothers have always been my friends and my sister in law is the sister I never had. I live in a nice peaceful city where everyone knows everyone. If I start studying Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, I am as good as they come. I don’t have to worry about food, shelter, clothing except when there’s a party. I do have a distinct sense of belonging as far as my friends and family are concerned. Apart from a few awful episodes in my life, mine has been a very peaceful existence.

But how much of this is my contribution to myself?

I am lucky that I was born in a God fearing Muslim family. I didn’t choose my family, I was blessed with it. My education is not a big deal either because I was blessed with an above average intelligent mind so getting good grades was never an effort or a concern. Though I never had an exceptionally good account to give of myself, I did get a good job and though I am not pretty, with the right touch of makeup, I can be quite presentable. None of these aspects of my life have my contribution.

This is where my inner conflicts come in. This is where the turmoil begins and this is where the spring fast forwards to autumn.

I believe that it was Shakespeare who said:
“No one is born good or bad but the thinking makes it so”

Following the same lines, a saint’s character says as much in Paulo Coelho’s ‘the devil and Miss Prym’. He says that he has the same impulses as any other man, the same impulses of wickedness but he can control himself. I believe this truth is applicable to all of us. We are all born with the same motives and desires. Good deeds are hard to come by because on the onset they not only seem difficult, they are also rewarded in long run, where as we as humans can only see short run of events. We lack the foresight, the knowledge and the intelligence to be bothered with what is truly good for us. Good deeds are less tempting where as wickedness is just so irresistibly inviting. Oscar Wilde was condemned not because he was wicked but because he was vociferous. He clearly said:
‘I can resist anything but temptation’.

Oscar lived what he wrote. I, on the other hand, am living the songs I will never write. I will never write them because I am scared of being condemned. I am scared of being judged and found wanting. Deep down inside I am still a little girl who will only write what she has been taught is the right thing to write. I will never write about what really drives me to live. On some unknown and unfathomable level, death and Day of Judgment scare me. I will not be vocal about the paradox of my existence, how it’s insanely driven by so many conflicting forces. How on one hand I secretly want to look good and while in reality I wear a Hijab. I try to be religious but true to Ghalib’s spirit “ emaan mujhe rokai hai jo kenchai hai mujhe kufr….kaaba merai peechai hai kaleesa merai aagai”. I am the rope in the tug of war between good and evil and only I only I know how strenuous this game is. From time to time, I voice my feminist views and yet what I really want is to be married. I look at people who have no achievements in their life worth mentioning and I feel sorry for them. However, if I were to die today, I won’t have anything to show for my twenty odd years of existence. I laugh when the heroine cries at the end of the romantic movie as the hero is dying and honestly speaking, I want to fall in love too, to see if the world truly goes round or not.

This is who I am. I am no different from the rest of the world. I have my hopes, my dreams, my aspirations, my shortcomings, my demons, and my own story. We all do. Each and everyday, each and every one of us, by doing something we should be doing, not doing what we ought to be doing, and in some rare moments, by undoing the wrong we have done, write our own autobiographies. We all have our autobiographies…I am only trying to write a better one.