"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born." Anais Nin
She is crazy…a supposedly mature teenager in the garb of a middle aged woman. Shaking her snaky hair free, she giggles and talks like a mad hatter and bursts into insane laughter at the innocuous language she has invented!
She was “suggested” to me by someone close. And she turned out to be the best thing that has happened to me in a long time to come and that too of the same gender!
The weird thing is the many experiences in isolation that we share…and the fact that despite the gaping years we have managed to find so many levels of similarity. The many quirks we share too make me laugh. Who would have thought in this creepy land of computers and wannabes there would be one soul who still loved old books, the smell of bread and the scary greens she gorges on like a cow.
My husband wonders at this new found proximity and togetherness. He had been amused at the fact that I kept only males for company. This is a pleasant surprise alright but he wonders at the constant need and actual comfort we derive from each other.
Our world is one of inanities, stupid jokes, shared pain, misunderstood anguish, unchanneled anger and worry, deep seated fear of losing control, of being swarmed by these stupidities enough to want to bail out, of silly chatter, or sniggering comments about unknown and known souls, of steaming cuppas, crunchy beetroot filled cutlets, so many childish pleasures, chocolates, saris, tantrums, jealousy, and what not….
Her glasses perched on her nose, her stiff saris, her matching accessories, her aching hands, her sparkling diamonds, her little bindi, her aching belly (courtesy crunches to lose the flab), and her vulgar white-capped phone. She makes me smile, comes running every time I need her and listens when I tell her silly pains that make me want to run away. She feeds me, worries and obsesses about me (or so I presume), and eggs me on Every time I am down!
I so adore this mad lady…. I am really grateful for that one phone call from Delhi that directed her in to my world!
Dr Shrinkari, I am not letting you go come what may!
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Friday, April 06, 2007
Reliving the Past!
I keep hearing that noise from deep within…I am yet to ascertain what it could mean or be. I am confused. I know there are those you want to stay on with you for life, despite all your efforts to push them into the farthest recess in your being…but would that be one of them calling out to me?
And then there is this soul I have been calling out to in every language I could conceive. But it evades me like the plague. Glorified payback I believe. Not unwarranted either. But penance seems no good an answer.
That one dissenting voice I would give the world to hear cackle in my ear…. the wisps of breath that punctuate that conversation so lost in the clouds…the little pats that I imagine every time he laughs at my achievements…the sweet nothings that I wish would dot the night instead of mere shiny stars…
Flashes from the past…barely enough to kill a lifetime. Infernal longing to rewrite the equation…to relive the past…to undo the horrendous impetuous mistakes and regain the laughter.
And then there is this soul I have been calling out to in every language I could conceive. But it evades me like the plague. Glorified payback I believe. Not unwarranted either. But penance seems no good an answer.
That one dissenting voice I would give the world to hear cackle in my ear…. the wisps of breath that punctuate that conversation so lost in the clouds…the little pats that I imagine every time he laughs at my achievements…the sweet nothings that I wish would dot the night instead of mere shiny stars…
Flashes from the past…barely enough to kill a lifetime. Infernal longing to rewrite the equation…to relive the past…to undo the horrendous impetuous mistakes and regain the laughter.
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Of Arts & Farts!
He kept fingering his well rolled and set curls…it was pissing me off. This arty farty old man…with his rudraksha beads and bulging waist with even bigger pockets and a bag large enough to hold him within, supposedly to scare off the less intellectual kinds…. his unkempt beard was another turn off…I was maintaining a stoic silence so as not to upset the delicate balance between them. She had forced me into this…and now she sat trying to make polite conversation with this man I wanted to tell off…trying so hard to hold on to his smoke even as he fidgeted with the empty pack looking around for a lighter in all those deep pockets of assumed wisdom and literature.
He liked to keep his cards close to his chest for fear his literary knowledge might fly away with a stray one…like his tousled locks and his brain was playing havoc with his visuals. He was looking for scarlet-o-hara amongst his umpteen messages saved to again strengthen the façade he had built around him. The point being, what use are these pitiable graspers of literature? I mean, no harm in having a well read and intelligent soul around you? Why does it necessitate a particular physical feel to be intelligent or even artistic? Why is it that the world assumes a normal person cannot get into the skin of a character while reading or creating it simply for the lack of disheveled locks, an untidy room and smelly feet?
These archaic myths have turned into a mockery the decent soul’s yearning for genuine knowledge. For one, if only people would refrain from imposing a certain eccentricity on someone who loves word play, we might be closer to actually enjoying the nuances of the language, which is not necessarily exclusive to “those quite not there”. The worst part they are the most hurt souls this side of the Atlantic if one were to freely offer them a reality check…then you shall fry in the fires of hell for having questioned the credentials of so simple and pure a literary soul!
I hate such pretentious buggers who assume an aura of intelligence merely courtesy their appearance. I hate hypocrites and those who plead to be categorized different. If you are more than just your clothes, your stench and your unkempt look should play testimony. Rest should be up there hidden from public view…for you and the creator alone to enjoy and muddle over.
Keep him away from me for the next time my tongue shall not obey my bodily commands. And he wont like spittle on his well curved locks…
Tch tch.
He liked to keep his cards close to his chest for fear his literary knowledge might fly away with a stray one…like his tousled locks and his brain was playing havoc with his visuals. He was looking for scarlet-o-hara amongst his umpteen messages saved to again strengthen the façade he had built around him. The point being, what use are these pitiable graspers of literature? I mean, no harm in having a well read and intelligent soul around you? Why does it necessitate a particular physical feel to be intelligent or even artistic? Why is it that the world assumes a normal person cannot get into the skin of a character while reading or creating it simply for the lack of disheveled locks, an untidy room and smelly feet?
These archaic myths have turned into a mockery the decent soul’s yearning for genuine knowledge. For one, if only people would refrain from imposing a certain eccentricity on someone who loves word play, we might be closer to actually enjoying the nuances of the language, which is not necessarily exclusive to “those quite not there”. The worst part they are the most hurt souls this side of the Atlantic if one were to freely offer them a reality check…then you shall fry in the fires of hell for having questioned the credentials of so simple and pure a literary soul!
I hate such pretentious buggers who assume an aura of intelligence merely courtesy their appearance. I hate hypocrites and those who plead to be categorized different. If you are more than just your clothes, your stench and your unkempt look should play testimony. Rest should be up there hidden from public view…for you and the creator alone to enjoy and muddle over.
Keep him away from me for the next time my tongue shall not obey my bodily commands. And he wont like spittle on his well curved locks…
Tch tch.
Tuesday, April 03, 2007
Cranky Dilemma
The silence is reverberating. There have been random moments when I have been forced to wonder if this is not punishment for my own stubbornness? After all I chose the least trodden path, decided to brave it out with fewer friends than fingers on a hand. And to look back and complain will not help solve the problem.
For some years now, I have been languishing with the bare minimum of friends. Not that the need for multiples was not there, just that finding those that fitted the bill was impossible. Which made things kind of stagnate on certain fronts. The essence of any relationship is the way it can evolve to become something more fresh and interesting with the passage of time. And the minute it recedes into the past, we have to reinvent the whole damn thing to make it appealing at least in one aspect.
I am facing a cranky dilemma now. I have certain clogs I need to unearth, but that will then leave me with fewer than I started out with…which is inherently unhealthy and unwise. So then do I turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to these glaring mishaps? I am really in need of divine intervention at this moment. And that seems to be lacking too.
Has everyone abandoned me to my miserable fate? Christ it is definitely scary.
For some years now, I have been languishing with the bare minimum of friends. Not that the need for multiples was not there, just that finding those that fitted the bill was impossible. Which made things kind of stagnate on certain fronts. The essence of any relationship is the way it can evolve to become something more fresh and interesting with the passage of time. And the minute it recedes into the past, we have to reinvent the whole damn thing to make it appealing at least in one aspect.
I am facing a cranky dilemma now. I have certain clogs I need to unearth, but that will then leave me with fewer than I started out with…which is inherently unhealthy and unwise. So then do I turn a blind eye or a deaf ear to these glaring mishaps? I am really in need of divine intervention at this moment. And that seems to be lacking too.
Has everyone abandoned me to my miserable fate? Christ it is definitely scary.
Thursday, March 29, 2007
Monday, March 26, 2007
The Truth is Always Bitter!
Much maligned Simon Cowell…
The only fault with the man is he speaks his mind bluntly…and the fact remains nobody likes criticism…that makes him the most hated and criticized man on the planet.
Surprisingly, 7 out of the top 12 contestants in this season voted him their favourite judge, and I would presume that was the case in the previous seasons too. If he were mortally feared and hated then its small wonder they keep him on the show…but I guess it pays to have someone who is inherently considered rude to do your dirty work for you. Coz left to Randy and Paula many of them would have been voted through for their sexy looks or something else that the lady might mistake as pity.
Keep speaking the truth Simon.
The only fault with the man is he speaks his mind bluntly…and the fact remains nobody likes criticism…that makes him the most hated and criticized man on the planet.
Surprisingly, 7 out of the top 12 contestants in this season voted him their favourite judge, and I would presume that was the case in the previous seasons too. If he were mortally feared and hated then its small wonder they keep him on the show…but I guess it pays to have someone who is inherently considered rude to do your dirty work for you. Coz left to Randy and Paula many of them would have been voted through for their sexy looks or something else that the lady might mistake as pity.
Keep speaking the truth Simon.
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Cluttered thoughts
As the first year draws to a close…random thoughts clutter my brain….
Everyone says the first year is the toughest. In my case it hasn’t been as bad as some made it sound.
There have been changes galore…where do I start? The first and final rule of the entire relationship apart from the rules we set each other remains neither family shall feel ignored or left out! So lets begin….
Its no longer just the two of us…you realize that the day you decide you want to settle down, but the enormity of it hits you when each decision you make becomes a point of conversation and discussion with everyone in the immediate family (extended excluded if you have been smart enough to put them in their respective places immediately after the ceremony!).
Now vacations mean family visits, and to top it all, exactly divided ones between both houses. No one should feel left out!
Phone calls are no longer based on your prerogative or emotional need…they are to be weekly and in both directions.
At family gatherings language has to be extremely polite if not formal…four letter words should not feature even by mistake
Gifts have to be bought keeping in mind both families
Family will drop in when least expected and there’s not much you can do about it. Which also means screwed sleep cycles and being at your best and no bickering come what may.
It means putting up with extended family the two of you have gone to lengths to avoid…simply because the “close” family believes you should never alienate anyone related to you
No finding fault with family even if they are wrong. You will end up a sore loser.
Early on decide which festivals will be spent with whom so neither gets impacted
Don’t let any “well-meaning” criticism or advice get your goat. It is always meant in good humour and for your well-being.
Never make a face coz then it is used against you at a later stage and they think you are making the other person suffer with your anger.
Try and make an ally on the other side of the fence early on, you will need someone to fight your case at some point, sooner than you know it.
Learn to memorize birthdays and any other event which might matter to one and all
Portray yourself as much more gullible and simple than you really are and earn some brownie points. Will help in the long run.
If a fight is getting out of hand and there is a possibility it might make news in family circles, immediately get someone on your side before the other person makes it public. The first comer is always more innocent in the long run.
Okie there are many more. But this is now making me think …and real hard too. So lemme stop before I get scary thoughts.
Oh and while I am on this topic….I found this really interesting list of things that you “will find in a happy couple”. And guess what I failed only on one account…Very good did I hear someone say? I am patting myself on my unreachable back!
Here is the list in case you need to refer….
They Go to Bed At the Same Time - That's right, they go to bed together. Whether they want to make love, snuggle up and talk or just feel the closeness of each other as they fall asleep, they go to bed together and one partner may get back up after the other has gone to sleep, but they give each other the comfort of being together whenever they are going to sleep
They Develop Shared Interests - Whether they shared these interests before they got married or discovered them after, happy couples enjoy spending time together so much that they work together to find things to do together
They Hold hands - Whether they are in the car, walking in a store or walking in the park - they hold hands and walk side by side, because it's important for them to be together in whatever they are doing
Accentuate the Positive - Happy couples focus more on the positive aspects of each other more than the negative - it's not about the few things they do wrong, but all the things they do right
Forgiveness and Trust are the Rule - If an argument can't be solved or resolved, the happy couple chooses trust and forgiveness over the alternatives
Hugs & Kisses are what happens when the happy couple sees each other after any absence whether it's 1 hour or 1 day
I Love You's are not perfunctory, they are vital for the happy couple to be said and to be heard every morning, every afternoon and every evening
Saying good morning and good night is important because it acknowledges a happy couples partnership and their commitment to each other because they don't let the little or the big things slide
Happy couples reach out to each other all day long whether it's a quick two minute phone call or instant messages where they can keep their fingers on the pulse of the relationship
Happy couples take pride in each other, they are proud to be seen together, they are proud of their achievements and they are proud to just be together
Dali on my walls!
One of my favourites. At one point the mere fascination with it, propelled me to get a colour printout of the same from an advertiser friend and put it up on my wall…till it tore into a million fragments. All the same I still have it preserved in some corner of my attic.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Friday, March 16, 2007
Cinderella Man?
My friend’s call today caught me off balance…. what she told me seemed like a movie…a nightmare I have wanted to avoid at any cost…. do I want to tell It all…. In such a public forum? I guess what I need is re-assurance that these are random isolated incidents that wont happen to me…. she is hurt and confused. And honestly for once I don’t know what to tell her. I don’t know how to save her from heartache. I don’t like to see her like this…in a shriveled state. But hell…wish I could help out.
I tell her story…. it rings true even as I write…and I hate that man for what he’s done to the one woman who I watched over like a hawk all through my teens…. she has been an asset, my soul mate…he hurt her…he let her down. I don’t know what I want to tell him! Do I even want to associate with him?
“Blackened hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I walked to my little corner, trying to shut out the cruel laughs that refused to die down.
Had my trust been betrayed? Had I been taken for a ride? Had he despite my repeated admonitions and warnings gone ahead and played truant? Had I lost my reason to live? Had I lost my only source of comfort? Or had I lost all?
Shivering legs prevented me from taking my seat…. They were talking about this new person in his surroundings…why hadn’t he mentioned her to me? Why this stoic silence? Even when I ask? And then in retort he accuses me of things I haven’t dreamt of. Why? Is there something he wants hidden under the dirt? Something he is trying hard to abstain from? Something he has done but can’t explain…nor accept. Something that makes him guilty… Something he should never have even considered even when sloshed out of his wits….
Something in me died today.... It was like... I don’t know how to explain...for one moment it seemed like the ground underneath me had moved and my balance was toppled and I was falling into an abyss.... like I had been slapped.... like someone had thrown hot water on my face...like I was not alive and I could stand and hear people talking ill of me in front of my illusion.... like I was not wanted anymore.... like there was this bitch who was trying to creep in….And you almost let her....
God it worries me no end…and now I hurt for the accusations refuse to wash off despite my best efforts…I want this to go away. I want that bitch out of our lives. I don’t want you to share even a breath with her…I don’t want you to touch the machine that might touch her as she walks past….I wish like those loony women I could stick pins into a doll and she would cry in agony and fry in the fires of hell….I pray a car hits her and mashes her to jam as she crosses the road…I wish someone would rape her….I wish she would come under a truck and her head were severed…. I want her dead…. now….”
So do I honey…I shouted into the phone…she was crying….I guess I need to call her. It’s been an hour since we spoke. I need to save her from some stupidity. Moments when I wonder if it weren’t better to be alone in this world?
I tell her story…. it rings true even as I write…and I hate that man for what he’s done to the one woman who I watched over like a hawk all through my teens…. she has been an asset, my soul mate…he hurt her…he let her down. I don’t know what I want to tell him! Do I even want to associate with him?
“Blackened hot tears rolled down my cheeks as I walked to my little corner, trying to shut out the cruel laughs that refused to die down.
Had my trust been betrayed? Had I been taken for a ride? Had he despite my repeated admonitions and warnings gone ahead and played truant? Had I lost my reason to live? Had I lost my only source of comfort? Or had I lost all?
Shivering legs prevented me from taking my seat…. They were talking about this new person in his surroundings…why hadn’t he mentioned her to me? Why this stoic silence? Even when I ask? And then in retort he accuses me of things I haven’t dreamt of. Why? Is there something he wants hidden under the dirt? Something he is trying hard to abstain from? Something he has done but can’t explain…nor accept. Something that makes him guilty… Something he should never have even considered even when sloshed out of his wits….
Something in me died today.... It was like... I don’t know how to explain...for one moment it seemed like the ground underneath me had moved and my balance was toppled and I was falling into an abyss.... like I had been slapped.... like someone had thrown hot water on my face...like I was not alive and I could stand and hear people talking ill of me in front of my illusion.... like I was not wanted anymore.... like there was this bitch who was trying to creep in….And you almost let her....
God it worries me no end…and now I hurt for the accusations refuse to wash off despite my best efforts…I want this to go away. I want that bitch out of our lives. I don’t want you to share even a breath with her…I don’t want you to touch the machine that might touch her as she walks past….I wish like those loony women I could stick pins into a doll and she would cry in agony and fry in the fires of hell….I pray a car hits her and mashes her to jam as she crosses the road…I wish someone would rape her….I wish she would come under a truck and her head were severed…. I want her dead…. now….”
So do I honey…I shouted into the phone…she was crying….I guess I need to call her. It’s been an hour since we spoke. I need to save her from some stupidity. Moments when I wonder if it weren’t better to be alone in this world?
Friday, March 09, 2007
He came alive!
I had been watching him from my window for the last 4 days. He sat still… watching the traffic go by…smoking…. scratching the wild patch atop his head for any alien growth…. stroking his beard, whistling, smiling to himself. And suddenly today his world seemed to have jumped right out of his head onto the street. Cats…they seemed to make him come alive.
The transformation was breath-taking. He seemed for once like another of my species. He suddenly had a family to fend for. He scrambled about looking for a piece of cloth to make the trio sleep on. Those miniature versions of the feline family seemed to have awakened something in him that not even a street beauty had.
Its amazing to watch a man struggle to keep alive something he loves. the strength he derives from that single passion makes his eyes burn like nothing else has…he will join heaven and earth if a shadow were thrown across those he would give his life for. God forbid somebody takes that away from him.....
The transformation was breath-taking. He seemed for once like another of my species. He suddenly had a family to fend for. He scrambled about looking for a piece of cloth to make the trio sleep on. Those miniature versions of the feline family seemed to have awakened something in him that not even a street beauty had.
Its amazing to watch a man struggle to keep alive something he loves. the strength he derives from that single passion makes his eyes burn like nothing else has…he will join heaven and earth if a shadow were thrown across those he would give his life for. God forbid somebody takes that away from him.....
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Sanity's end?
Anybody can become angry, that is easy; but to be angry with the right person, and to the right degree, and at the right time, and for the right purpose, and in the right way, that is not within everybody's power, that is not easy. Aristotle
I have begun to enjoy my angry, vociferous phases. It’s eerie and almost disturbing. They are gradually replacing those moments of laughter…of happiness at being one with another…of having a life to enjoy…of wanting something more than mediocrity in my life…searching for fame….of silent love…of belonging…of being the center of someone’s private universe….of madness….of debilitation sadness….of sheer warmth and mushiness…of absolute joy….of fear….
The end of sanity is catching up with me…and there seems to be nothing I can do to turn back….
To what crime do I pay this price…my mom quips that its my crimes from my past life that are playing catch and making my living life a hell…she might just be true…if this one is even a shade of what I might have been then I doomed to ignominy…
Only question remains…how fast will it devour me?
I have begun to enjoy my angry, vociferous phases. It’s eerie and almost disturbing. They are gradually replacing those moments of laughter…of happiness at being one with another…of having a life to enjoy…of wanting something more than mediocrity in my life…searching for fame….of silent love…of belonging…of being the center of someone’s private universe….of madness….of debilitation sadness….of sheer warmth and mushiness…of absolute joy….of fear….
The end of sanity is catching up with me…and there seems to be nothing I can do to turn back….
To what crime do I pay this price…my mom quips that its my crimes from my past life that are playing catch and making my living life a hell…she might just be true…if this one is even a shade of what I might have been then I doomed to ignominy…
Only question remains…how fast will it devour me?
BIGG BOSS!
Seething anger and disgust…. what I feel is compounded every time I set eyes on him. The man is dumb to say the least…I was initially tolerant given his background. But now it makes me wild…and unforgiving.
There is this urge to punch his nose in…. each time he gets off his chair, I cringe in fear…please make him walk to the other end…not realize that I am free and may listen to what he has to say….
Till date I have been polite and subservient given my newcomer status…but soon it will not matter anymore. I will play deaf till I can bear no more…then the anger, the disgust, the pain will all pour forth…and he wont know which way to look.
I merely hope it won’t be too soon…for both our sakes!
There is this urge to punch his nose in…. each time he gets off his chair, I cringe in fear…please make him walk to the other end…not realize that I am free and may listen to what he has to say….
Till date I have been polite and subservient given my newcomer status…but soon it will not matter anymore. I will play deaf till I can bear no more…then the anger, the disgust, the pain will all pour forth…and he wont know which way to look.
I merely hope it won’t be too soon…for both our sakes!
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Killing Time!
The last few hours have been maddeningly irritating. Everyone pretending to decipher the budget all by himself or herself. I have been pushed into a corner…to observe and understand the intricacies of unraveling the budget…. gosh it makes me laugh…. the last few years working in TV stations dumbing down the budget for the lay person to understand…and now these paper guys trying to teach me a lesson or two about reading between the lines of the budget.
Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be more meaningful if I had undergone a lobotomy before joining the print medium. Many a time the pace and the silliness of those surrounding me has made me gasp and wonder…. if I shouldn’t be doing something completely different. There are a few diamonds…whose shine is diminished by the much surrounding them. But who the hell cares…in all walks the story is similar.
For me right now, the one nagging worry is how long I will survive this tomfoolery. I have finally found my niche…but then again not in “the” place of choice…but I am not going to complain….
I am rambling on meaninglessly to be precise…but the attempt is to look busy and occupied while my boss looks for one more soul to contribute to the already over-loaded budget coverage….so I shall sulk and pretend to be engaged completely. And fill up pages with absolute nonsense. But hey, nobody seems to be complaining.
Sometimes I wonder if it wouldn’t be more meaningful if I had undergone a lobotomy before joining the print medium. Many a time the pace and the silliness of those surrounding me has made me gasp and wonder…. if I shouldn’t be doing something completely different. There are a few diamonds…whose shine is diminished by the much surrounding them. But who the hell cares…in all walks the story is similar.
For me right now, the one nagging worry is how long I will survive this tomfoolery. I have finally found my niche…but then again not in “the” place of choice…but I am not going to complain….
I am rambling on meaninglessly to be precise…but the attempt is to look busy and occupied while my boss looks for one more soul to contribute to the already over-loaded budget coverage….so I shall sulk and pretend to be engaged completely. And fill up pages with absolute nonsense. But hey, nobody seems to be complaining.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
MISUNDERSTOOD
Love involves a peculiar unfathomable combination of understanding and misunderstanding. Diane Arbus
Obsessed with finding an outlet for my feelings, I completely forgot that man, who loved me and cared for me unconditionally and for life.
He felt wronged…responsible for all my misgivings…. my pain…. my raving and ranting…. he was hurt…. upset beyond relief….
Blinded by rage and misery, I had shut myself off from the surrounding universe… which breathed with me, which sheltered me…felt the urge to care for me….
But the point being…my dialogues with myself were never meant to hurt…or accuse…. or demean…or put down…or insult…or deprive anyone…. I was talking to myself…my asides are merely that…they are meant to be taken and understood in exactly that format…any other meaning imposed on them can make them harmful and hurtful for everyone else, but me!
So read me…. don’t absorb me like a sponge and cry in pain. I talk out loud to myself…to my consciousness…to my invisible breathing twin…so don’t let me affect you or spoil your sleep…let me be!
Obsessed with finding an outlet for my feelings, I completely forgot that man, who loved me and cared for me unconditionally and for life.
He felt wronged…responsible for all my misgivings…. my pain…. my raving and ranting…. he was hurt…. upset beyond relief….
Blinded by rage and misery, I had shut myself off from the surrounding universe… which breathed with me, which sheltered me…felt the urge to care for me….
But the point being…my dialogues with myself were never meant to hurt…or accuse…. or demean…or put down…or insult…or deprive anyone…. I was talking to myself…my asides are merely that…they are meant to be taken and understood in exactly that format…any other meaning imposed on them can make them harmful and hurtful for everyone else, but me!
So read me…. don’t absorb me like a sponge and cry in pain. I talk out loud to myself…to my consciousness…to my invisible breathing twin…so don’t let me affect you or spoil your sleep…let me be!
All by choice! MY Choice!
My raving and ranting aside, my life has been purely driven by personal choice...at the crucial junctures at least....
I would not have it otherwise...except if I could undo some of those thrashings I was subject to and some of the physical and mental pain...and the monetary setbacks.....despite all that I am in some parts extremely happy and in some parts not so at all....
I don't blame a damn soul for my misgivings....
I got married by choice....I love him, but I can't deal with domestic responsibilities.....
We moved here based on mutual consent of sorts....I love the fact that I finally can do something I always wanted and even get to see my name in print...but I HATE BANGALORE...the elusive maids & cooks...the exorbitant cost of living and the lack of familiarity....and the proximity to home.....
My husband loves me unconditionally....its wonderful....but I can't deal with the weight gain as a consequences of PCOS and the ugliness it brings along with!
There is a silver lining in it all....if only I could live my life by them and intelligently avoid all the potholes of daily living....I will then be the happiest soul this side of the Atlantic!
But alas...life is a BITCH!
I would not have it otherwise...except if I could undo some of those thrashings I was subject to and some of the physical and mental pain...and the monetary setbacks.....despite all that I am in some parts extremely happy and in some parts not so at all....
I don't blame a damn soul for my misgivings....
I got married by choice....I love him, but I can't deal with domestic responsibilities.....
We moved here based on mutual consent of sorts....I love the fact that I finally can do something I always wanted and even get to see my name in print...but I HATE BANGALORE...the elusive maids & cooks...the exorbitant cost of living and the lack of familiarity....and the proximity to home.....
My husband loves me unconditionally....its wonderful....but I can't deal with the weight gain as a consequences of PCOS and the ugliness it brings along with!
There is a silver lining in it all....if only I could live my life by them and intelligently avoid all the potholes of daily living....I will then be the happiest soul this side of the Atlantic!
But alas...life is a BITCH!
Monday, February 26, 2007
How Do I?
The revelations are scary. I deluded myself into domestication. Now I don’t know if I really wanted all this baggage that came along. With each passing day the muck sticks on a little harder and the more I scrub the more skin I expose to pain. I wonder if I should have listened to more enlightened souls when they yelled themselves hoarse that what I was embarking on was for the sane and the stable. I was neither and yet I figured maybe the constant exposure to these might convert me.
I am way far from conversion and from enjoying the ride. So then what shall I do?
How do I deal with these flashes of wanting to bail out? How do I replace them with fragments of sanity? How do I deal with other “weighty issues”? And convince myself that mere stress is leading me to do things that are merely screwing up my health some more? How do I replace prolonged periods of sadness with minutes of joy that last in the memory to cheer for a lifetime? How do I deal with failure?
How do I deal with the tears? How do I deal with the false laughter? How do I deal with the silly companionship promises? How do I deal with the lack of warmth? How do I deal with the brimming anger that scares even me every time it surfaces? How do I deal with the madness? How do I deal with the insomnia? How do I deal with the fatigue? How do I deal with the hunger?
How do I deal with the lack of intelligence? How do I deal with ugliness? How do I deal with constant bickering with family? How do I deal with those who let me down? How do I deal with those who understood? How do I deal with those who turned their backs on me? How do I deal with who voluntarily harmed me and then left me exposed? How do I deal with ever tempting death and freedom? Why should I deal with life?
I am way far from conversion and from enjoying the ride. So then what shall I do?
How do I deal with these flashes of wanting to bail out? How do I replace them with fragments of sanity? How do I deal with other “weighty issues”? And convince myself that mere stress is leading me to do things that are merely screwing up my health some more? How do I replace prolonged periods of sadness with minutes of joy that last in the memory to cheer for a lifetime? How do I deal with failure?
How do I deal with the tears? How do I deal with the false laughter? How do I deal with the silly companionship promises? How do I deal with the lack of warmth? How do I deal with the brimming anger that scares even me every time it surfaces? How do I deal with the madness? How do I deal with the insomnia? How do I deal with the fatigue? How do I deal with the hunger?
How do I deal with the lack of intelligence? How do I deal with ugliness? How do I deal with constant bickering with family? How do I deal with those who let me down? How do I deal with those who understood? How do I deal with those who turned their backs on me? How do I deal with who voluntarily harmed me and then left me exposed? How do I deal with ever tempting death and freedom? Why should I deal with life?
I am Tired.
I wonder if I shouldn’t run away from this sham.
I am tired of adjustments, of sacrifices, of pretending all’s well.
I am tired of the routine that life is.
I am tired of the responsibilities.
I am tired of being me.
I need change.
Some rest.
Some solitude.
I am tired of adjustments, of sacrifices, of pretending all’s well.
I am tired of the routine that life is.
I am tired of the responsibilities.
I am tired of being me.
I need change.
Some rest.
Some solitude.
Domestic Woes!
The drudgery is getting to me. I never envisioned becoming dependent on something as insignificant as domestic help.
Today my movements and social life are dictated by her moods. My timings and needs have to suit her lifestyle…or else I’m forced to lead a life of dirt and stench!
She sits in her little hut conniving how to vex me after a long and dull day at work…and while I dream about putting my legs up and enjoying a few nibbles while watching TV, she glares at me and staunchly refuses to come and complete the daily chores because I am ten seconds late!
The foolishness of being part of the population of this town is being overly and emotionally dependent on these silly yet stylish women who dictate our lives as if their fathers had paid for our upkeep! They nag us to death over acquiring material things that will make their lives more comfortable and livable, while we slog in our respective offices trying to make ends meet in this city where everything by sheer snob value costs more than a diamond tiara!
I hate her with all my heart and with each passing day imagine the sheer pleasure throwing some hot water down her neck will cause me…even as I go and cringe at her gate, throwing all caution to the wind pleading with her to please come and scrub my floor even though big dirty black spots will glare back at me the minute she steps aside…yet my need blinds me every passing day….
I need this woman to come and do those dirty menial jobs like I need no other in this world.
And I detest myself for having sunk so low. Yet isn’t this the essence of existence?
Such ignominy we’ve been reduced to!
Today my movements and social life are dictated by her moods. My timings and needs have to suit her lifestyle…or else I’m forced to lead a life of dirt and stench!
She sits in her little hut conniving how to vex me after a long and dull day at work…and while I dream about putting my legs up and enjoying a few nibbles while watching TV, she glares at me and staunchly refuses to come and complete the daily chores because I am ten seconds late!
The foolishness of being part of the population of this town is being overly and emotionally dependent on these silly yet stylish women who dictate our lives as if their fathers had paid for our upkeep! They nag us to death over acquiring material things that will make their lives more comfortable and livable, while we slog in our respective offices trying to make ends meet in this city where everything by sheer snob value costs more than a diamond tiara!
I hate her with all my heart and with each passing day imagine the sheer pleasure throwing some hot water down her neck will cause me…even as I go and cringe at her gate, throwing all caution to the wind pleading with her to please come and scrub my floor even though big dirty black spots will glare back at me the minute she steps aside…yet my need blinds me every passing day….
I need this woman to come and do those dirty menial jobs like I need no other in this world.
And I detest myself for having sunk so low. Yet isn’t this the essence of existence?
Such ignominy we’ve been reduced to!
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Consistency evades me unlike her!
Lady Lazarus by Plath
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God,
Herr Lucifer
Beware Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it----
A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot
A paperweight,
My face a featureless, fine
Jew linen.
Peel off the napkin
0 my enemy.
Do I terrify?----
The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.
Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me
And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.
This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.
What a million filaments.
The peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see
Them unwrap me hand and foot
The big strip tease.
Gentlemen, ladies
These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,
Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.
The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut
As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.
Dying
Is an art, like everything else,
I do it exceptionally well.
I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I've a call.
It's easy enough to do it in a cell.
It's easy enough to do it and stay put.
It's the theatrical
Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:
'A miracle!'
That knocks me out.
There is a charge
For the eyeing of my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart----
It really goes.
And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood
Or a piece of my hair or my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.
I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby
That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.
Ash, ash ---
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there----
A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.
Herr God,
Herr Lucifer
Beware Beware.
Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.
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