Launching AlbertaCurves

AlbertaCurves is an Edmonton based company providing custom hand paintings on your choice of denim.
All patterns are my own designs and can be further customized. They are inspired by various art forms like Henna, Madhubani art, Warli art, Indian and modern art forms. They can be painted on Denim pants, shorts, skirts or jackets. They are all sketch based designs wherein I prefer to use either black or white for outlining, depending upon the denim colour. Further, bright colours can be added to accentuate the patterns or one could choose to have monocoloured designs.
Prices are only for hand painting on your choice of denim, and will vary depending upon the patterns, monocoloured or multicoloured designs, and the size of the jeans (because more time and more material are required.)
One can send me their own denim or choose to get one delivered at my address from your choice of online shopping portal. Denim will be first hand-washed, ironed and then painted. I am normally able to ship the order within 30 days of the receipt of the denim. (In case of exceptions, one is always notified)
One can wash the finished product with the fabric turned inside out, in cold, delicate wash cycle, or simply hand wash them.
On my Etsy shop, I have included various sketches of patterns that I can further customize in hundreds of ways and can be painted on Jeans pants, skirts, shorts and jackets.
If you would like to get updates on new designs, sales, and discount coupons, then please feel free to sign up for AlbertaCurves‘ Newsletters. I promise you to not bother you with unnecessary emails, but only send Newsletters to offer the best discounts and new products.
So, sign up now to get 30% discount on your next pair of custom hand painted Jeans.

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I am still the same girl

I am still the same girl

Who would leave the world

To be by your side,

Once again.

 

I am still the same girl

Who wants to see that smile

Shining in your eyes,

Once again.

 

I am still the same girl

Who seeks your shoulder

To cry,

The one I never had.

 

I am still the same girl

Who seeks the comfort

Of those rough hands,

You stopped giving me

Time and again.

 

I am still the same girl

Who demands attention

From only you,

Once again.

 

I am still the same girl

Who wishes to get old

With only you,

Time and again.

 

I am still the same girl

Who used to smile and jump

At your thought.

And I still do the same,

But only secretly now.

 

I am still the same girl

Who wishes for simple things.

Who lost everything.

Who used to fight to be herself.

Who has changed a lot.

Who cries every day.

Who is lonely all the time.

Who chose this life.

I am still the same girl,

Waiting for you!

 

Death Note 4

Death Note 3

Death Note 2

Death Note 1

Death Note 4

I woke up in the morning, with the same dreaded feeling of doom. Pulled myself to feed my little boy and feed myself too. Pushing myself to eat healthily, I told myself to not give up to the urge of having that decadent piece of leftover chocolate cake that I had been having, ruining all the benefits of my work outs. Thoughts of I would better be dead, lingered around my mind. I fought them fiercely. I cringed at the thought of letting my son grow motherless. I told myself to be ashamed. I have a lot in life that many don’t have, and instead of being thankful, I have been sulking for something that shouldn’t really matter. But then, what do you do when your mind keeps feeding you with constant thoughts of pessimism. Nope, I hate to stay with those thoughts and feelings that they bring to me. I suffer physically. I can hear my heart thumping harder, as if I had a hungry lion in front of me, waiting to pounce on me. I feel like throwing up. I feel like sitting at one place and never get up. I feel like getting invisible to the world and myself.

But I always get up. I always tell myself that those feelings are wrong. I always push myself to feel thankful. I force myself to cook some days (cooking is one of my hobbies, by the way.) I tell myself to eat or else I could get too sick to care for my son (no, I am not skinny.) I try to read something positive. I write if I could. But most of all, I try to keep the hope for the better days keep flowing.

I stared at my puffy face in the mirror. It screamed at my ugly face. I told myself to change my PJs and get some fresh vibes in my life.

I reluctantly took my shower, washed my hair with a lot of lather. Dressed up a little (I had nowhere to go,) blow dried my hair for a change. They didn’t look bad. I was surprised to see in the mirror. My hair looked good enough. I dabbed a little pink gloss on my lips and forced a smile. I didn’t look bad for my age, in that mirror. For once, I wondered if my new house had those fake mirrors that show you like a few pounds thinner, your skin brighter, etc. Then I decided to believe that may be what I saw was the truth. I was hoping to feel better by making myself look pretty. I didn’t feel elated. But I did feel that at least something wasn’t as bad as I felt. I felt that I had some potential. I pushed on with the day. Trying to make my days better, trying to eliminate all obvious causes of feeling miserable… Like no food, no money, I look ugly, I hate this body, I am so lonely, there is no one to talk to, feeling sorry for my boy to have a mom like me, being useless, not contributing financially, not able to follow my passion, not being able to be myself, feeling suffocated… And the list goes on. I must slowly and steadily, try to eliminate all these reasons, and then see how I feel. It is a journey that I have to finish, contemplating about my thoughts at every milestone reached, and in the end, if I survive, I must find if I feel any better, useful and content. I don’t seek happiness per se… But I need to feel that all the hardships haven’t gone futile. If I could say one day that it was all worth it…Might save me.

Death Note 3

Death Note 2

Death Note 1

 

You Are Someone’s World :)

Came across some positive quotes on #edmonton #highlevelbridge and this one made me stop. It is so important to tell this to a person with #suicidalthoughts ‘You are someone’s world’ I loved being there and read those quotes that can make a momentary change of mind. It can matter a lot when someone needs to hear them.

For some reason, this feels so close to my heart. I recall all the young lives I knew, vibrant and jovial, eventually lost to the excruciating pain that depression can bring. If only, there was someone there to tell them and remind them, that ‘They are someone’s world!’  Maybe they would have been alive and relieved to find more happiness in life. I can only wish now about what didn’t happen. But I can always remind everyone to be mindful of people around you. Maybe they need to be told exactly this to avert a disaster in their lives. Please think about it.
A few lines from me when life acts up with me…
“When life kicks you, you can either kick it back or kick yourself.
Often, I work harder to hit the life back but sometimes I lay in a heap of defeat, mustering the courage to wind-back in resilience.
Keep fighting till you can, keep holding always, AS YOU CAN.
It’s not wrong to hang your head down in defeat at times,
But do stand-up again when you can!”
#yeg #positivevibes #positivequotes say NO to #suicide #needsomeone #totellyou#youaremyworld #someone #lovesyou#waitsforyou #worries #mustbeedmonton#staymotivated #stopandthink#dontkillyourself #mentalhealth#awareness #lifeisbeautiful #precious#quotes #pinkshoes #shoesarethesame#am_wandering #author #trying #to#staypositive

As I continue my wanderings in my comfy shoes, I continue to share my physical and mental wanderings and ponderings, on Instagram and on my blog. Currently, the shoes remain the same and shall change when it’s too cold to wear them and when they eventually get worn off, to be replaced by another pair of comfy shoes to accompany me in my wanderings.

Death Note 2

The other day I was going through those super cute clothes my son received from his uncle. I picked up each shirt and imagined my handsome boy in them. I knew he would look adorable in every shirt he had received. And then, a thought fleeted through my mind. My mind told me that I might not be there for long to see him in those clothes. Of course, because it’s been telling me that I would be better off gone…death seems like a better alternative. Tears poured as I controlled my emotions because I want to see my son wearing those shirts and that big goofy grin he likes to carry around. I don’t want to miss all those happy moments. I felt sad for being bad to my son. He doesn’t deserve a coward mother like me, hence I need to live. I tried to convince my mind, that it’s too early for me to die.

But my mind seems to have stuck on the thought. It’s preparing me and I am continually mourning for self and for people I am going to hurt in the process.

So, I decided that every time I felt that I should die, I would start a task to divert my mind. I will put my sorrows, anger, frustration, and mourning in the task. Hence, I stepped out in the hot sunny day and started digging a patch of dirt in our new home’s backyard. It used to be a vegetable garden in the past but since we moved in, it is just a big patch full of lush green weeds. It is threatening to take over everything around it and makes my new backyard look so unsightly. So, I have decided to change it. I am not sure what I will do, whether grow new grass there or make a nice patio, but I will make something there. Hence, I started digging and tilling. One by one, uprooting each and every weed, tracing their roots and trying to pluck everything I could. I used as much force I could with my garden hoe and till as much dirt as I could. It was hot and I was dehydrated, joints of my thumb started hurting and my ever-sore hip started giving up. I noticed a few blisters in my palm (it was too hot to wear the gardening gloves.) But I knew that I couldn’t stop because if I stopped that physically challenging task, then my mind will take over and give me other kinds of challenges to fight to.

So, I continued to uproot the weeds while my mind continued to fight with me. I kept telling myself that I can’t give up, not now, never. I didn’t give up that day, I kept digging and my mind kept fighting.

Since then, I have decided to divert my negative emotions towards something constructive, like gardening, carpentry, painting or writing. So far, I have managed to survive and fight against my own mind and hopefully, I will be able to continue to do that. Thoughts still shroud my mind and I cry out of helplessness. But it’s a fight that I need to win.

Just in case if I lose this fight, I want my son to know that his mother tried.

And to my husband, “I love you, but when we can’t say that to each other anymore in our life, it gets too much of a burden to carry on.”

To my Mummy, Papa, and Sister, “I love you all but I am sorry. I have wasted all your hard work by ending my life. I know you will miss me and I will miss you too.”

Continue reading “Death Note 2”

Death Note 1

So, it has been going on in my mind since quite some time. Every time I drive alone (without my son in tow,) a thought creeps in my mind, sending shivers through my spine. What if I crashed my car and died right there? My mind starts creating the bodily pain of seeing myself dead and make me cringe with emotions that one would feel to see someone dead. My already depressed mind would weave scenarios and wonder how life could be after death, not for me but for those who will be left after me. I would mourn for self, and more importantly on behalf of my child who loves me so dearly. I would cringe at the thought of not being brave enough to want to live for him. I would think about ways to die that may not involve crashing- damaging a car that my husband will need after my death, to take my son around (because it will be so expensive for him to afford child-care as well as getting a new car.) Also, I might just become a handicap and not die, which will be worse as I will be a bigger burden on my family and won’t be able to kill myself if I had to. And this depression won’t get any better in a more challenging situation like limited mobility. I would still be so expensive as my husband would need child-care as well as fix the damaged car. Plus, car insurance premiums will go higher too.

I have hundred stupid reasons to wish that I was dead and a handful of reasons to want to stay alive. I will come to them later (of course I am not going to make a list of hundred reasons for you to read! And, it is obvious that so far, those handful of reasons have been stronger than those hundred.)

Every time I think that I would be better off dead, I realise that I haven’t left any suicide note for my loved ones to read, for them to know why I did what I did. The last thing I would like to do is end my life and leave everyone with a series of questions that will never have answers (because I won’t be there.)

A friend committed suicide and apparently didn’t leave a suicide note. It still kills me and makes me sad, to not know why she decided to do what she did? What made her so upset to take her life and leave a child and a husband after her? I still go on her Facebook profile and wonder if I wrote something there, will she be able to read it, like ever? Can I ask her some questions? Will she feel helpless to be not able to answer the questions that the living people have been asking her? Did she have second thoughts about life, just before she lost her consciousness? We won’t know. And my mind would not cease asking questions.

So, coming back to the topic of a suicide note. At that time, I was not contemplating on committing a suicide, but only wishing that something happens to me and I die. That would be the easiest way of getting rid of life, which seems too tough and useless for the time being. But then that isn’t a suicide, isn’t it? It is just death. Hence, I decided to name it as ‘Death Note’. Just in case if I die today, then what will I want people in my life to know as my last words to them? That is what I plan to write. I know that feelings and emotions change, sometimes they change every minute. Hence, A ‘Death Note’ needs to be periodically updated. If you happen to be patient enough to read it and happen to know my loved ones, and just in case I die (doesn’t apply if someone kills me on purpose because I am not sure about my feelings about being forced to die when I am not ready,) then please let them know about my Death Notes. They might want to read it (Psycho me!) Hopefully after me, they would want to read something that I wrote (laughing sadly at self.)

Also, I want to include that, I nowhere want to offend terminally ill patients, people who want to live but have no way of saving their lives, or even disabled people. I feel for them, even though I am not in their situation. I can understand the pain of wanting to live but not able to. My mind is sane enough to understand that it is normal to want to live, and it is also sane enough to know that there is something wrong going on in my mind. I want to live too but my mind keeps convincing me otherwise.

Writing has been my saviour since my teenage years and hence I needed to write down how I feel, especially during this tough phase of my life where I am struggling to convince my mind to not be so stupid. So, everyone, who feels offended by what I write, please let me know and I might be able to convince you that I probably didn’t mean the way you understood it. Now the disclaimer is over and I shall go back to where I intended to be.

 The ‘Death Note’ I plan to write is going to be a series of notes/ letters that I might or might not publish on my blog (depends on the sensitive material it has.) Also, I don’t plan to fake anything. I know, I sometimes write funny but that may not mean that I must be feeling funny too. Ignore my contradictory statements (I know… I am being difficult. Others think the same.)

This is getting too long and I am not sure if you would like to continue to read my rantings in one continuous go, hence I will cut it short now and write the rest in ‘Death Note 2.’

Before I sign off, if I die or end up being stupid enough to kill myself, then do pass on this letter to my son (just tell my husband to take a print out.) He is just 4-years old and can’t read yet. When he grows up (like 18 years old or maybe at 50…) I would like my little boy to read how crazy his mom was. Till then, just let him know, that ‘I Love Him’ and ‘I am sorry that I couldn’t be strong enough to stand by his side in this beautiful life and I feel terrible about leaving him with one of the worst situations in life, of being motherless. Tell him that life is beautiful and her mother was an aberration.’

Please tell him that his Mommy is trying to be strong for him. I will keep trying to be there for him.

Let him know that he is the reason for keeping me strong so far.

Note: I have gathered a lot of courage to publish it on my blog and let myself be vulnerable in front of all the readers. It is not easy for a person to speak up, especially when it comes to their own mental health. We worry that someone might take us as unstable or laugh at us, or you know that social taboo that it is okay to let people know that I have cancer, but not how my mind feels.

I am scared too, but I want other people to know that they are not alone in thinking the way they think. That it is okay to not feel happy all the time. But, we do want to feel happy. It is okay to let people around you know how you feel. Maybe, you can get some help. Maybe by sharing, we might get a support system. Maybe we won’t be looked at as an aberration. I am just trying to give company and hopefully help myself in the process too.

But the sleep didn’t come.

With my eyes closed,

I coursed through the deep night.

Wondering if it was sleep or

I dreamt with sleepless excitement.

I twisted and twirled,

Tossed all night while I lay.

I forced and I cursed,

Some cajoling didn’t help.

I waited and flipped,

Turned and curled,

But the sleep didn’t come.

Oh, the sweet sleep,

how much I care,

To be wrapped in your arms

And rest for the night.

But as deceptive as you were,

You decided to run away.

But the sleep didn’t come.

Continue reading “But the sleep didn’t come.”