Hey Mister, why do you like me Naive?

Hello my charming Knight.

This is me, your sweetie-pie – little Miss. Naive.

Someone asked me my name the other day. “Call me Miss. Naive”, I said, smiling sweetly.

The person gave me a confused look. “Sorry, I would need your real name.. not a pseudonym” he said.

I laughed, “You are mistaken, that is my name.”.

Feeling a bit awkward, he said “Err.. sorry. May I have your full name then? First name please”.

It was my turn to look confused. I could not recall my first name. Nor my surname for that matter. Realization dawned that ‘Naive’ is in fact a pseudonym. Something our society insisted on calling me – ever since I was a child. Something YOU insisted on calling me – ever since we met. Something that I had come to believe IS my right identity!

You really like me naive, don’t you?

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Why do you want me to settle down?

Dear Well-wisher,

Why do you want me to settle down?

You find my eccentricity akin to tea leaves in your cuppa
You want the leaves to settle down so you can sip your tea..
Without the leaves coming against your teeth
And quickly.. before the tea gets too bitter for you to swallow.
Oh you don’t understand!
The eccentricity is like oily dye in water
You might wait for it to settle & even successfully separate it out..
But you would never feel like drinking that water, would you?
Pointless to wait for it to settle down, eh?
You might just as well twirl it a bit and enjoy the beautiful patterns
Add some more color if you wish
Or wait for someone else to add some glitter
Forever, someone will keep unsettling the oils
Just don’t forget to check out the new patterns now and then!

You have had enough of my sermons on freedom and self-defined identity
You wish the ‘individualism’ silt would settle down in that road-side puddle
So that poor little birds and stray dogs can drink the rain-water.
Oh you make a small mistake!
I am a solution.. Not a Suspension
You can wait all you want for the silt to settle down
You will die & it never will..
For you just put in the wrong vowel there..
It isn’t silt with an ‘i’.. it is salt with an ‘a’
Ah, you could try boiling me..
Of course you could..
My spirit would evaporate
And you’d still be left with the salt you so dislike!

You are just concerned and want to guide me in the right direction
I look like that huge pregnant cloud you love to gaze upon from your balcony, do I?
Reflecting the colors of the setting sun beautifully..
So soft & fluffy that you want a ride on my back.. Floating ever so gently..
But sometimes dark, gloomy and intimidating..
If only you could gently guide me to deliver my rain-drops where you want, when you want..
So that farmers sleep peacefully, assured of a good harvest and people get water to drink..
Just so that I don’t turn into a storm cloud that delays air-crafts and gets cursed..
After all, there is nothing wrong in wishing me and others some good, is there?
Oh, you forget!
I, the random evasive and aimless cloud, have a mind of my own
Or not even that.. just a weird way of my own
You would agree – that I have this annoying habit
Of drenching you with unscheduled showers out of the blue
Just when you prayed wholeheartedly for a crisp sunny day..
Just when you are out for a picnic in the woods..
Dressed in fresh summery white that you simply can’t bear to get all muddy!
Think before you wish too much out of me 😉

So, dear well-wisher,
Thanks for the concern..
But no thanks!
Just let me be
The world – yours and mine – is better that way.