Final Project

Aamna Rao

                                                                           REBEL

I am made up of little insanity

Although I have faith in divinity

I am a slave of idealism

But not a far from realism

Madness is not my only recognition

I do have the courage for self- acceptance

Solitude is my old friend

Helped me to remain persistent

My eyes reflect my journey

They have sung songs of unfavorable endings

My lips smile as sweet as a Melody

Utter words with tranquility

My eyes are an essence of my soul

But my lips perform another role

My lips act as a shield

To conceal what my eyes urge to reveal

My eyes have lost its fire

But my lips dress in red attire

My eyes no longer flare

But my lips maintain worldly affair

My eyes often compel

My lips to rebel

Like a volcanic eruption

My lips complain of deception

            When I though of presenting my final project, I decided to do a video compiled with a narration in the background that would throw light on me. Due to the pandemic Covid19 I could not completely pursue it. I decided to do a poetry reflecting my self-portrait. I shot my self-portrait much earlier, but I kept procrastinating for the poetry. Procrastination was not based on laziness but rather about brainstorming ideas to pieces. I brainstormed to find words to describe myself and the photograph. I brainstormed by writing prose about my life that helped me to write about the theme of the photograph.

            26 years have passed, when I look ten years back, I see a 16-year-old naïve girl who believed love was enough to live. I have a different outlook towards life but sometimes that 16-year- old girl begins to empower. There were days when I lost my voice and there were days when it got empowered. There were days when my heart felt empty and there were days when it felt everything. There were days when I flowed with the waves and there were days directed them every way. There were days when I flew high on the sky and there were days when my wings got shattered. There were days when I laughed with joy and there were days I wept in sorrow. There were days when I bloomed as a flower and the days when I turned into a dry leaf. There were days being numb and there were days being filled with passion. There were days when I was a shining star and there were days when I felt broken apart. There were days when I got broken apart and the days when I found the path. There were days I seek knowledge and there were days I suffered ignorance. There were days when I smashed my dignity and there were days when I increased my walls. All those days reflected insanity, certainty, and uncertainty. I have passed those days; I am living some and I am going to live some.  

Journalistic writing is quite different from creative writing and creative writing has less barriers as journalistic writing. For this reason, I wrote much freely.

            The major idea that I shared with Ta- Nehisi and Chimamanda Ngozi was their eloquent way of writing. Their voices represent a sense of rebelliousness towards the structure of society. I connected their idea of rebelliousness with my rebellious characteristic. Rebelliousness is often described as a negative term. I believe in a society, a house, or a community if the structure and policies are inappropriate and needs to be reformed than being rebellious by raising voice for amendment is an adequate process.