storieswithkanchana

The first time we met, I saw straight into your eyes for it was my habit. You looked straight back into mine and nodded. My lessons in eye contact began as a child. My teachers, parents, and friends saw defiance burning in my brown depths. In my head, I was looking at them with the fierce innocence of a child who still didn’t understand the rules of right and wrong. You can naturally understand my confusion of being taught to maintain eye contact when speaking the truth versus constantly being told to look away. In my later years, people went on to label my gaze as intense. Frankly, I preferred that label over defiance. I made my choice as a child to leave the interpretation of my gaze to the listener. In all my years of looking into people’s eyes, I’ve learned that people presume a number of things with the way you look at them. I’ve been told that I was easy to talk to, warm, genuine, friendly, open, and most important, that I really listened. Do we all make that mistake of think

Here’s a woman with impeccable language, a colourful wardrobe, quirky accessories and a tinkling laugh. She’s a perfect picture of poise and feminine grace. Her sweet smile is further defined by the different shades of lipsticks painted on. An aunt’s gift of a shocking pink tube in her three-year old hand led to a lifelong love for lipsticks. She’s guilty of being a lipstick collector with an exclusive collection to match her every mood. That tube of lipstick was the only element of feminine charm her mother allowed her to keep. Her mother was a fierce-willed woman who chose to grow her third daughter as a strong, academically inclined child. There weren’t any extra-curricular activities and her toys were the tools in the kitchen while watching her mother work. She laughs as she says, “I think my mom was trying to get me through life while also getting life through me.” Her training for a poker face began young. Her mother constantly reminded her that the world wasn’t a place fo