Change keeps our minds occupied. The process of change and the process after change. The stage of liking and unliking it, reviewing it and modifying it for the better.
Change for progress or better is appreciable.
I love redesigning my home, to move the furniture and the small different artifacts around, the artifacts collected from different places at different timings, something which has a story to it, albeit a short one and to myself. The story increases the importance of holding it.
There are some spaces and colours which go well, with the overall ambience and design and the name.
Well same goes on with my blog.
I always wanted a black page for my blog. A black one, just like a Slate, as is the name of my Blog. The reason for the name " The Slate", is I am learning how to write. It was one of my interests and I never explored, but I love to write. So I have changed my blog's look, with plans to redesign it slowly. While my inspiration, to create one was Ravi , to keep writing is Prabha, my friend whose writing style I admire and I am a fan of.
As with my blog, I have a new look too.
It is now tamed and left free. It obeys me now, unlike before when it decided where it had to see.
My hair is now straight !!! And it gives me great happiness to not meddle with the curls and frequent hair cuts all by myself. I always wanted straight long hair. Whenever I expressed this wish, my parents time and again, they told me how wonderful it is to have curly hair and how lucky I am to have curly hair. My dad specialises in making me feel good with what I have. He emphasizes on how necessary it is for a person to be good and beautiful at heart. He would praise me as "why does a golden doll need any makeup" , though not the exact translation. It definitely was an exaggeration, though. Times when I felt lonely as I was the only kid, he would say that I am lucky as I would get undivided attention and love from my parents, as I was their only kid. That part was fine but I was more worried about all the scoldings I would get for being mischievous, and no one else to be blamed except me. Anything wrong at home all fingers would point to me, so I had to be extra careful.
But the point is about my hair now, I continued to cut my hair, when ever I felt it had to be straight, since the curls at the bottom would be cut, the remaining hair would be straight for some time. I was not aware of the number of times I subject it to scissors all by myself, whenever I wanted. Due the torments it had continuously undergone from me time and again without any recourse to the suffering, it now stands short like a bonsai. But to my surprise when I finally straightened my hair, the length was quiet good and I was very happy about it. But the hair stylist , offered to trim my hair. I politely refused. She insisted I trim my hair, I refused again. She offered to do it to for free. I resisted. But she insisted again, she promised to trim very little. I finally gave up. Before even I could tell her how much to trim, her instruments cruised through my hair and it was all over. She was happy and the length is small again.I only wish it grows fast and I be careful about not getting lured into temptations.