I will tell my daughter to look in the mirror so deep that she feels the world around her fading from the sides and only she remains in focus.
I will tell her how this world would never care about how many books you read or how beautifully you can put your views about this world in front of the people.
I will tell her no matter how pure her soul is or not matter how accepting her heart is, she will always be measured in pounds and kgs.
I will tell her that this world will give her a thousand people who see only with their eyes, I’ll ask her to hold onto to the one who sees with their soul.
I will tell her to not wear flowers in her head because this world will only care for that flower and not the head that makes it more beautiful.
I will tell her not to place that last piece of brownie back in the bowl just because some woman stared at her like it was the end of this world and she reached out for the last piece of food.
I will tell her to wear her body as an armour, ready for any battle.
I will tell her to shed all the façade only when you are sure of your soul being taken care of.
I will tell her to love her body just as much as I loved mine or tried to when I was her age.
I will tell her to swear off any man who keeps her body first.
I will tell her how she has been born from a star and she’s nothing less than one incandescent body.
I will tell her how the universe strived to make her what she is and how what one boy says does not matter.
I will tell her to wait for that one person who sees her and despite her being cracked from places, holds all her pieces together.
And even if she still doesn’t believe that she is not what the society calls “beautiful”, I will tell her that there will be times when she won’t believe that she is because the people said so. There will be times when she’ll open a magazine and point out each flaw in her when compared to the model.
There will be times when people will tell her to adjust her pieces according to the norms of the society and them, I’ll tell her to remember how a puzzle seems like a broken piece of cardboard to a person who only sees the broken piece of cardboard.