|BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir 3 Savile Row|
I have a confession to get off my chest.
I used to take my blog very seriously. I'm not saying I had ambitions of becoming the next "Aw-Mee" Song or Chiara Ferragni, but I've always been incredibly nitpicky over every little square inch of my blog as if I was going to apply it to some Blogger Award competition. With that being said, I've been progressively inching towards using my blog as what it's naturally supposed to be meant for: to legit just be a source of my random rants and meaningless stream of consciousness for future bookkeeping and evidence for how weird I am. Call it my cyber scrapbook of weirdness enclosed in a handy dandy & legit-sounding .com website.
Also, screw the whole"fashion" blog genre I am narrowing myself to. I honestly doubt anyone really reads my blog to its full extent so I guess today marks my journey towards becoming more of a "lifestyle" blog---which it pretty much was before. I guess I just like being dramatic and delineating clear demarcations of what I consider to be black or white. I blame my acute OCD.
Moving on. To update my future self about the current and oh-so interesting happenings of the daily life of Kelly Han, I've decided to start off with something really important for me (and immensely personal). Just like the beginning of this (paragraph?), I'm moving on. Moving on with what, exactly? My first relationship/love/whatever you want to call it. Yes, I'm talking about that monumental moment that everyone goes through as a rite-of-passage of some sorts. You really get to know who loves and cares for you at a time of loneliness and confusion. I truly believe that every girl going through a breakup feels regret, guilt, anxiety, feelings that they were never good enough or sexy enough or beautiful, even. Maybe it's my upbringing and my family status of being 98% women, but I don't regret anything or feel like I'm not good enough. I never really relied on another human being, nonetheless a man, to make me feel worthy enough or beautiful enough. I'm slowly getting to call myself a beautiful person but that's going to be on my terms & my terms only.
When I mean my family is 98% women, I mean that my mom's side is mainly all women and they're all divorced, incredibly happy on their own, and so, so strong. Bring on the tiniest violin and the cheesy lines but I'm grateful to be in an environment of independence and resiliency that doesn't require happiness from a man. I may have needed some tear-inducing 8tracks playlists featuring Kelly Clarkson, Aly & AJ (
Potential Breakup Song, anyone?), and Leona Lewis with excessive tags titled: girl power and getting over it. But I'm actually really excited in becoming a stronger, more experienced woman and relying on my own and focusing on my goals no matter how silly or trivial they are---because I can! I got to go to the biggest freaking Hindu temple outside India for goodness sakes!
Something that really stuck to me during this spontaneous trip today was the word: mandir. Man = mind, dir= still. Anxiously stepping up the stairs into a grand prayer space of hand-carved marble of the most intricate designs was entrancing, to say the least. It truly was as if time just stopped and I felt this inner peace and sanctuary within my jumbled mind these past few days. Looking straight up and seeing 16 tiers of embellished and excessively ornate flowers, motifs, and dancing Shivas made my heart jump but with a flood of tranquility.
The Ganesha and the praising tortoise was what really resonated with me of all the other statues encased in gold, dimly lit rooms sporadically spread throughout the marble ritual room. Genuine goals of demolishing traces of jealousy, materialism, and egos in such a continuously superficial world is so crucial for happiness and peace. Just like the tortoise, I felt like I was hiding in a miniscule, personal space away from the evils and sadness of my life and the world and entering introspection and a feeling of one-ness and control.
I guess that's it for my long-ass biography--for today. Namaste.
P.S. For the random Savile Row image, after traversing through London for a Fashion walking tour, we came across this dapper building that happens to be an Abercrombie & Fitch now. Not very interesting, but when you think about how it was once the last place the Beatles played their concert on the rooftop, you feel the utter need to chuck a random beer bottle laying on the streets in front of you. Well, maybe that's aggressive but there was a Riot about it. (Case in point: a poster saying "Fitch off, Abercrombie (please)).