It is a beautiful life by Atul Singh

I absolutely love and adore women, girls, the female form and all that it entails. From my daughter to my Mom to my lover, and everything in between. They are just so rich and complex and beautiful in their design and depth and color and beauty, that I cannot stop admiring them for who they are. Men too are fabulous creations for sure, but I kind of know them some, being one myself. Women, a different story. Just so lovely to continue to get to discover their beauty in all their avatars. 

One such delightful avatar is my daughter and by extension her teenage friends. They are all wide eyed and bushy tailed about life, as they should be. They are discovering and exploring their femininity, it’s power, it’s travails and all that jazz. My teenage daughter would sit sometime in her room and color her nails or just do her hair this way and that way. The door is closed on the outside world when she does this, but am sure her inside world is wide open then. At other times, she tidies up her room, listens to her music or watches her shows while doing her stuff in the room. There are spurts of hectic activity sometimes when she helps around the house, wanting it to look beautiful, as her own extension. At other times she has just eased into her pajamas to watch her shows. All this on top of the hectic school and music lessons and horseback riding and morning gyms and social calendar. One can clearly see the little girl of yesterday starting to engage with life as a woman. It is a joyous transformation playing out right in front of my eyes. It is delightful to watch, and just as delighful as it is to see her and a few of her friends getting together. As a dad, my privilege is to drive them from here to there pretty much and whatever glimpses I have into their hearts and minds are from overhearing some of those conversations and watching them just blossom out for each other when they meet. They giggle and hug and talk, quite thoughtfully I must say, but rapidly too, as they say this and that to each other, weaving these silken bonds of love. They know who and what each of the other one is. They know them intuitively and instinctively and words are just bites of food they are giving to feed one another and to be fed by. Here, I love you, and don’t know how else to tell you that except by telling you all about what my teacher said or did or the kid in the class said or did or or or. It’s like a Mama bird feeding her chicks. Except in that car, for those fifteen minutes, all of them take turns in being the Mama bird, or not even. Perhaps all are mama birds and chicks at the same time. Their joyous celebration of being here and now with each other is sprinkled with giggles at the most ridiculous things and a deep intrinsic understanding of the other one, if for some reason she is feeling off. The grades weren’t right or the guy didn’t reciprocate her attention and all of them feel the down draft of emotions together and equally. 

It’s a beautiful life indeed. 

Men do it too by way. They do this bonding thing just as powerfully and intimately as girls/women do, but in a different arena. They need a playing field, of any kind. My privilege has been to have a set of friends whom I run with or go hiking with, as and when. But the lighting up that happens then is just as obvious and just as joyful. It usually starts with someone getting rapped about the bright color of their shirt or something else that is wrong with them. That is the shot across the bow that eases everyone in their saddle. Now all is well. Now all will be well. Conversations ensue, about intriguing stuff, about politics or faith or economy or athletics, or life in general. This is not to solve for anything, but men engage by sharpening each other’s sword. They all seem to be preparing each other for a battle in which they are together. The battle of life. The right metaphor for them is not the feeding to each other as girls and women do. Instead it is by working each other out, with a supportive hand on their back. “You are strong yourself but I got you brother”. “You and I, we can take this battle and win it, alongside each other”. We kind of build each other up by letting the other see how we are stretching. We build strength by showcasing strength. And when we are hurting or failing we say little but the other one knows. They too say little but they slow down to match our step some. It is a powerful force that men create, by being alongside one another, as if there is a battle up ahead. And there always is, is it not?

So, men and women, girls and boys, we all play out our design, that has been cultivated, that has evolved over the millenia. Crafted by nature and ever evolving. It is a beautiful design. It is a beautiful life.