We all are beautiful

Girl pulling cheeks of a young boy

I live in the most advanced city of Pakistan, Lahore. A city famous for its advancements and traditions at the same time. It was a city of great minds and cultures and I very much grew up in the middle of this city, playing with clouds in the sky and building up my imaginary stories all the time. 

I was always a child with lots of curiosities and queries, as most kids are finding every little thing intriguing and questioning. I was always lurking around to look for things I had never seen. I was known to be a kid with energy of a small puppy, who was never tired of exploring and sniffing. I grew up with many teachings and disciplinary routines.

Entering high school I started my exploration in a very different way. Now it wasn't any object or a place which made me excited, but it was people, different beings with different personalities. They all were very interesting to me, how every person is different yet the same. People were having a kind of a marathon with each other. They all were somewhat trying to make themselves superior than each other, but for me they were the same human. A body of muscles and skeleton, just different in sculpture. 

I was a girl with brown color skin which was not a problem or anything different for me, but it was for a lot of my peers. Conversations always seemed to include skin color and relating it to beauty, even if it wasn't how it started or related to the topic. I was growing up with my own personality and character but that wasn't something important for people around me. For them, being WHITE pretty was all that mattered. 
I started holding myself down, feeling lesser or incomplete, but deep down in my mind, who was always one step a head of me, I was arguing that it wasn't right. It wasn't me. I fought with myself for so long. I stopped exploring. I stopped growing.

I almost lost myself to societies bars and standards, but then I met this young little boy who warmed my heart with his smile and pureness. I don't remember seeing a more beautiful kid than him. Then I kept meeting some very beautiful people who looked a lot like me and were more beautiful than me. They were pure inside out. There wasn't any impurity, just beautiful souls and minds. I looked for them more because they felt like a home to me. They were interested in my words and not in my face.

I realized soon after that I'm beautiful, people just don't have eyes of their own. They saw what people wanted them to see, but the way I saw things was different. I saw soul, art and a message and not the appearance. I saw what I wanted to see and not the people.

I started writing for my own peace of mind and trying to fight with the odds of society. I started a fight to raise awareness among my peers, stood against people who were saying something about my skin color or even to anyone else. People told me that I'm being sensitive and they were just having fun, but I oppose because we aren't a joke, our skin color isn't a joke. We aren't a source of mockery. We are humans who just have a different color which isn't even in our hands. Why is humorous about that? It's God's will to give us this color and to make us more beautiful than them in both ways inside or outside.