Smile of Compliments- A literary response to an act of kindness :P

The last compliment I got was after lunch, this one sixth grade kid came up to me and said he liked my shorts. The shorts 150 other girls were wearing. Still a compliment. I guess thats the queer thing about compliments like these, even if they could apply to a million other people, they make YOU feel special. Praises and compliments make you feel important and boost your self esteem. If people were truly conscious of the powers of complimenting, we'd probably be complimenting on our blog, other people on the streets, family, friends... pets even! I don't remember the last time I complimented someone, I think it was at lunch, I told one of my friends she had a gorgeous smile :P Im pretty sure she was very flattered because I got a giant hug and a glamourpose. I think the compliment guys are fantastic. A quick and easy way to make living... better. I wish there were a couple of guys doing that around the school. And yes, its true, we don't really do nice things for each other any more. For example, some people were so "not-used" to being randomly complimented that as soon as they were, they assumed it was fake and insincere. I think it's wonderful that some people are willing to give up some of their time to make people's days. I'm still on the idea that we should all go to the Pavilion for an hour and complement people, just as an experiment. We tend to forget the small things in life because we are so overwhelmed. Big issues fill our heads until the small joys of life seem unimportant. We run after satisfaction and ignore the road as we run, we have become overly focused on unnecessary elements. Every detail counts, happiness is everywhere. Small acts of kindness can reshape a saddened nation as it is the small details that can make the biggest changes in our daily life. Spread the news! Make a difference... like those guys! The Free Hug campaign is yet another terrific example of spreading joy across a nation of saddened souls :P

Teesha Moore-ness

Serious with a chance of laughs- by me

A queer quartet of laughing lips

Enough to rend an amateur tearful

Not forced, or pushed

Teetering tongues click

Warm ripples of knowing smiles

Grins begin to wobble

Visible, a few veiled flinches

An ominous shake at the bottom lip

Pompous pouts tremble

And suddenly

A hilarious current of laughter

Shocks everyone in the room

Deafening dozens of laughing lips

Sighs of mere exhaustion

Gasps of seriousness

Exhales of imposed concentration

Followed by yet another outburst

Zipping across the room in a joyful hurry

A fast current of sheer delight

But that was enough

To brighten up twenty faces

My name- a weird little story with a happy ending

My Name

My name has always be a source of trouble. Too long, too hard to pronounce, not like me. When I reached the age of seven, I grew quite weary of my name. My name became my stalker. A lurking shadow, an unwanted guest.

And just like paparazzi, my name knew everything about me yet I didn’t know anything about my name. As I searched for the meaning of my name, I broke down into a hysterical yet purely sarcastic laughter. Beautiful? Ahahahah… Sincere? Barely… Caring? I’m not even going to start that one… Every time people said my name it was sort of like hate mail. My name was a fresh breath of sarcasm.

I always longed for a shorter, simpler name that would suit me. I’m going to tell you the story behind how my name came to be. As a writer, I should be able to obliterate details that would reveal how pathetic the story truly is. My mother is an avid reader. Eight months pregnant, she stopped by a bookstore (probably the only one in Mauritius XD) She wandered around the great labyrinth of books, picked out the ones on baby names and went home.

The first one she started was a book on Indian names. My mother flipped through every page, pausing occasionally to underline names she liked and disliked the most. But to be truthful… all the names were pretty…horrible. I suppose my mother did not enjoy the thought of her daughter being names Aravagadesa or Chenchi- Hoprigrad. Dakshina was the one name she fell in love with. My mom knew right that instant that that’s what she would name her little baby daughter. A cute, interesting, yet simply tongue-twirling name…Dakshina.

More reasons for me to hate my name. But strangely, as the years went by, my name became more or less a very big and important part of me. My name is an agenda with constant reminders of who I am. This is what people know me by. Dakshina…sort of like a tight pair of jeans that you just can’t seem to fit in. I was used to just following my name around, making it something I had to adjust myself to. I did not want it like that. So I made my name suit me. Negatives morphed into positives, well, most of them.

Length became a sign of uniqueness, while pronunciation gave my name an exotic weave. Whether or not I was sincere and serious (qualities I clearly did not master), it didn’t really matter. After a while it becomes tiring telling everyone you’re name is, like, Leila but your MOM likes to call you Dakshina, just like that (most obvious lie yet) My name is Dakshina…and that’s actually really cool.

Dakshina, a peculiar little gift

A gift. Dakshina is a thousand different things but mostly, a gift or offering. This picture is quite simple, a minute little gift box. To have my name is like a gift... I wish. My name is not that complicated if you really think of it, its three syllables, DAK-SHI-NA (dahk-shee-nah) A complex name with a simple meaning, simple difficulty...my name is an oxymoron. (: I really like this picture because it has an element of truth to it. A gift is usually thought of as something great, a wonderful present, a fabulous reward and yet...its so simple. This is a black and white gift box, no designs, just a ribbon. It reminds me of a sort of Think-Actual oxymoron. Contradictions. That's it. My name is based on contradictions, Dakshina is open-minded yet she likes her ideas better, she is a fantastic listener but she talks a load. This picture is perfect for who I am AND who my name represents. It's quite funny if you think of it in a way that, my name is sort of like Pandora, it is a gift and offering and if you open it out comes evil and a glimmer of hope. hahaha... Dakshina is a name that quite fits me because...well...I'm quite full of contradictions, whether good, bad or just plain hilarious, this is who I am and who I've always wanted to be.