Acid On My Face But Not My Spirit

Unresolved issues are the most gnawing space in our heads and hearts forever. When I sit back and recall the memories that haunt me. They are the hurt that I didn’t resolve and just didn’t address. Over time they became just painful memories and I didn’t try to find the reasoning behind them. They happened […]

November 15, 2018

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Acid On My Face But Not My Spirit

Unresolved issues are the most gnawing space in our heads and hearts forever. When I sit back and recall the memories that haunt me. They are the hurt that I didn’t resolve and just didn’t address. Over time they became just painful memories and I didn’t try to find the reasoning behind them. They happened because it was my inability to accept certain things which were not meant for me. With this deep knowledge of understanding that life has many colors. There is a distinct black in all this vibgyor of multifaceted personalities and their myriad colors.

To me, the Promise bangle is like a handcuff that doesn’t imprison you but releases you with a vow that you will remember. A need to let the good thoughts enter you and release the caged ones of your mind. The ones that make you wrench in pain. The unrequited love, the deceit, the lies and the truth too.

The Promise bangle is endorsed by Shanti, an acid attack victim who didn’t let her disfigured face stop her from looking ahead. When you buy the Promise bangle you are endorsing a cause. A cause where the proceeds go towards the welfare of acid victims.

This ornament has a secret chamber where you can write your promise and roll it into the bangle inside. It’s your message in a handcuff with the promise that you will not be silent when you are being asked to accept patriarchal archaic rules.

I watch the handcuff against my skin shining into the light and catching the rays of wisdom. It’s prudence to not always prove a point with your voice and words amidst the bunch of cocooned minds.

My promise comes in colors of black, gold, silver & rose. I wear it like a sisterhood of the beauty that was destroyed by an angry man whose advances were thwarted by an unwilling woman.

I promise to keep my promise of standing up when I hear an unpleasant story of another woman, spoken in social harmless lunches where often lynching is a norm of bonding.

It’s my promise to bond with another woman, keeping her failing and winning in mind without judging her journey.

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