IDIOSYNCRAZY

          

 

       They were standing in the foyer that linked both departments, engaged in what seemed to me from a distance like a heart to heart. My elder sister was beaming, a beautiful smile played across the edges of her face. She always wore that smile and never hesitated to distribute it liberally. I approached them from behind, my sister facing me directly but her course mate; with whom she was having the talk had his back at me. The foyer was crowded in its traditional manner and they didn’t seem to notice me approaching, the young man was so engrossed in the conversation and was making gestures with virtually every mobile part of his body, “does she even smile? She walks around with this intimidating look like she is the only one on the planet. You guys are so different- you are the quintessential warm and fuzzy lady and your sister is” the epitome of cold and hard I supplied from behind him. You should have seen his face; he looked like someone who had just had an encounter with a ferocious wraith. His mouth fell open but not a sound proceeded forth. Gaze glued to the ground, he waved hastily at my sister and disappeared into the departmental library.

We began our regimented walk to the hostel in silence until we got away from earshot, I guffawed and my sister gave me the usual long chastising stare. “It’s is your forte isn’t it? You simply love being the bad cop”
Still consumed in my laughter, I answered, we both can’t play good cop, it’s a buzz killer! She laughed too and we continued our chatter all the way to the hostel, as was our norm.

Back at the university, 99 percent of the time, you would be certain to find me in my sister’s company and vice versa. The odds were a smidgen of occasions. People admired our closeness. We shared almost everything. Her course mate was accurate in his verdict- we were completely different and we still are.

I wouldn’t walk on the street with a smile plastered across my face, I thought it was idiocy. I had my jolly times though but I guess they were classified. You simply had to earn it! I said exactly what I thought without flinching and more often than not, created a really ugly scene for my sister to clean up which she always did effortlessly with a lot of poise and finesse. She could waltz through the lion’s den with her characteristic aplomb! 
At some point down the developmental ladder, I decided I wanted to be just like my elder sister-graceful, elegant, charming, warm, soft and may be a little mushy. I decided I was going to eliminate the old me. I was sick of carrying the invisible sticky note on my forehead that had difficult written all over it but how long did the charade last? You guess!

I caught the epiphany in our final year at the university and from then on, we joked about our differences like in the instance above. I stopped getting hurt and irascible when people made their comparisons and tagged us. It was the beginning of a pleasant transmogrification. I demystified it. Being different doesn’t make you an ogre if you can discover how to constructively weld it to reinvent your personality.

I happen to know a story that I would love to share with you in the light of buttressing my point. I remember this story very vividly but what I fail to recall is where I heard it from or maybe read it from. Anyway, it happened in a very remote period. In the palace of a great king in the east lived a number of servants. Male and female serving their king with fervor but there was a certain young lad that had a hunch back. He was discriminated against by the other servants and considered a curse from the eternal keeper of the kingdom but he would always refute their words. He believed he was a blessing from the keeper and pointed it out to all of them unwaveringly.

He also maintained that someday, they will all treat him with respect like that accorded to a king for the same disability they antagonize and josh him about. They further mocked him for his hilarious assertions and so was the status quo at the servant’s quarters for years. Life was almost unbearable for the hunchbacked servant. He had not a single ally and was trampled upon at the slightest of mishap with no one to assuage his shame but he went about his chores diligently and even the chores of other servants since the chief servant made him everyone’s stooge. Time passed and nothing changed, however, the king’s daughter began to notice how hard the hunchback worked and how poorly he was treated. Like a vermin, he would sit under the oak tree in the evenings when every other palace servant socialized and play his oboe, a riveting sound that pulled the princess from her chambers that evening and several other evenings.
The chief palace servant got wind of the budding rendezvous between the hunchback and the princess and decided to sabotage it.

On a beautiful evening, after the sun had retired and the moon was gradually unveiling her beauty simultaneously as the wind whistled in a soft enthralling manner, he began to lurk around the oak tree till he was certain the princess had clandestinely arrived at the scene to listen to the mesmerizing sound of the hunchback’s oboe,

an act which had become her highly revered ritual. He immediately bolted into the palace to alert the palace guard he had conspired with. The palace guard in turn brought it to the notification of the king. The king was pivoted to a spot in rage. With exigency, the hunchback was ceased and led into the palace court for trial. His verdict was exile and the princess was sent to the Coventry by her father as punishment for her misdemeanor.
Market days came and went, festivals were celebrated and the hunch back seemed forgotten until a colossal tragedy loomed.
The princess had taken ill and became bed-fast, her condition deteriorated rapidly. She could no longer speak and all that was left of her was her breath hanging on a thin thread.
Panic hit the palace; all the palace physicians could not proffer a remedy. They were simply useless as so were their healing portions. The king decided to seek help from outside his kingdom. Guards were sent out and warned not to return until they have found someone who will heal the princess or face the executioner’s axe.
After a fortnight, only one guard returned with a small calabash, the others had fallen to the perils of the journey.
The king was furious but had no other choice than to administer the contents of the calabash to the dying princess. That night he sat by her bedside and watched her sleep because he was almost certain it would be her last. At dawn, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and a faint voice calling father.
The portion had proven to be magical. The princess had recovered fully and the king ordered a great feast. The palace exploded with frantic preparations for the feast while the king prepared for a trip outside his palace. It was the only thing the healer asked for- an audience with the king after the portion had taken effect.
A stunned and remorse king returned to the palace three days later and with him was the much loathed hunchback that was exiled several years ago. Providence shined on him out in exile and he was able to master the herbs and the roots of the forest making him an inexplicably exceptional healer.
The feast was in full swing, the king didn’t think of any other time more appropriate to do what his heart urged. He gave his daughter to the hunchback as wife and blessed them.
Imagine the twist of events; the hunchback became crowned prince and heir to the throne. He became lord over the servants that treated him with disdain and the guards that conspired against him. They remembered his words with profound regret as they accorded him the greatest honor, bowing down to display obeisance.
The new prince was swift to display mercy, he knew what all of them didn’t several years back, he knew that his difference was not his disability but the light that would pave his way through the maze of life. He became the finest ruler the kingdom ever had for his reign was peaceful and prosperous.

Your difference might not be a physical one like the hunchback. It could be emotional, psychological, a character trait or you might even be considered a freak because you are extremely intelligent. Yes, it happens! But I want you to always remember these words as they were the revelation that brought about a volte-face in my perception

 

  ‘’Our differences are never a difficulty, an inept or incapacity but they are the idiosyncrasies that constitute us, our very essence and the core of our being. A viable cocktail that makes our outputs riveting, revamps us into a unique entity and a cornucopia of intrigue”.

I was sitting quietly, brooding and fussing over my differences and my inability to be like everyone else when I heard them in my head and that was the day I chose to always be me and never try to be someone else no matter how much I admire them!

Let these words find true meaning in your heart and never you, under any kind of pressure or even duress, give anyone the permission to downplay you because you are special in your way, there is just one you-the original and you are a discovery that will move the world. Be proud of who stares right back at you when you look at your mirror.