Hope is such a BITCH!
It is better to not hope and not get, than to hope and get shattered! Hope leads to expectations. Expectations lead to disappointments. Disappointments lead to heartbreaks. That’s why, I reiterate, Hope is such a Bitch!
The Noise of Silence!
This is like this phenomenon that I have been observing for the past year and a half. I have a best friend, Jabberwock, but she is peanuts about her guy, that she doesn’t have time for me. She has been my best friend since school days, for more than 9 years now. I have a temporary best friend, Harry, of whom I have talked of before, but he seems to be reclining into the background, because I realize that I am putting in more than required to keep our sparks alive.
At any given time in my life, I ALWAYS have one person who is close to me. But as we get acquainted, he starts to fade away in the background, and someone else comes forward. And this phenomenon seems beautifully weaved. (He is a generalization. Even the she’s have betrayed me!)
At every BIG juncture in my life, I have lost friends, who I thought meant really important to me. Just as I was about to finish school, I knew ‘who meant what they really said’. I lost my best friends, due to some stupid misunderstanding and didn’t talk to each other for years. My love for them, transformed into hate. The scenario is that if one of those friends needed some help from me was the only time we have had conversations. But yea, my not-so-close school friends are still people I cherish catching up with. They are few friends, for whom, I would do ANYTHING.
As I am about to finish college, I LOST my college friends. I don’t even want to talk about what went wrong. But the point being that I never made close friends in college, but they were good friends. And as they say, you never miss the water until it’s gone.
Even the most interesting person on this planet, gets timeworn. It’s like playing a video game. You just keep trying harder and harder, till u don’t finish the level, but once u ride through it, it don’t think of investing the same amount of effort again! People too, likewise. Till the time you don’t know a person, u try to be your best self, and once you know each other, the importance slices away.
The time when my college friends started to wither away, I started to realize the importance of people. I know what it friendship means. Now I am very picky about people I go out with.
I also get jittery, if someone invades the close corners of my life, because I assume, like every time, this friendship too, would lose virtue. People, whom I have known over a period of time, retain their place. But when things just happen too fast, culminate that soon. I just don’t want to know new people. I don’t want to give anyone the chance to go away. I don’t want to give anybody the chance to come close to me. I don’t want to give anyone the chance to hurt me.
I am in my un-friendly mode off late. I was/am the social butterfly. But I just don’t want to know anyone. I just don’t want to be with anyone. I am in that phase, where I just want to be left alone. Do my own thing. Like I don’t care. Like I don’t bother. Like I shouldn’t bother. I feel lonely in crowds. Silence eases me.
Is there anyone who is hearing this silence?!
An Honest Testimony
This weekend was the alternate long weekend. As usual, went out, had fun! A trip to the bookfair, with my boss’s wife, Surajkund Mela with Dorky with an extensive photography session, and a lousy Sunday with movie watching and gearing myself for Monday morning blues. But this post is not about what I did.
My mum had just started working with a publishing house and edits books for them. She has never worked in an organization and it’s only lately, 4 months, to be precise, that she thought that now the time is ripe to leave her daughters to themselves and start to work. For all these years, mum religiously got up to make food, pack us to school, wait for us to come back, feed us with lunch, make us sleep, send us to tuitions, teach tuitions herself, then start cooking dinner and spend the night watching saas bahu serials!
It was a mundane routine that she followed. I went to the book fair and as I was rambling around, I serendipitously struck my mum’s publication house. On browsing through the books, I saw more than 10 books that had my mum’s name. As I turned around, I spotted her boss too. I was so delighted, that at last my mum is living her dreams. After fulfilling her duties as a caring mother, a diligent wife, she is on the road to find her womanhood. She has always made sure that her daughters are treated as if they were her sons.
In the dominant patriarchal set-up that we live in, girls are not considered a boon to the family, especially if you are the first grand-child. But my mum has just fought against everyone in the world, to give me the support and raise me up, without me having to face too many hurdles.
Same is the case with dad. I might have a million arguments with dad. I might fight with him, raise my voice, he raises his voice. Ego-clashes. I shut the door and start crying in my room. But I cannot think of another man taking his place. I can’t imagine any dad letting his daughter come back home from work at 1 in the night.
Such fathers are either care-free, or don’t worry about their daughter’s too much. But in my case, dad used to stay awake till the time I don’t enter home. He used to everyday note down the cab number I am coming in. he is not the over-possessive father, but the protective one.
Even now, he doesn’t ask me to give a penny out of my salary for the home expenses. Even now, he has never interfered in what I should do, or where I should work. Even now, he comes to pick me up from my workstation everyday or else I would have to slog on public transport in the chilly winter evenings.
I might have a fight with him every Sunday. Happens, when we see too much of each other. But I love him.
My sister, she is a darling. If I had to choose one person in the world for whom I would self-lessly give my life for, it has GOT to be my sister. Younger by 5 years, I tell her everything that a 15 year old can probably comprehend. She has covered up for me, many times. There have been times, when she has given her pocket money savings so that ‘I’ could buy chocopie and gobble it all by myself. We rarely fight, but when we do fight, we just don’t speak to each other for many days.
I am very bad at expressing my feelings for my family. I just can’t. I don’t know why. If it were a friend, it is so simple. I could either make a card, or give them flowers or just text them, saying that they mean a lot to me. But when it comes to family, I just suck. I just can’t can’t can’t, tell them how much they mean to me. Maybe that’s why I am writing about it. A lot of ego comes in. I just cant sorry. I just can’t say I Love You.
But this time, as I was surfing through my mum’s books, I just picked up my phone and called up my mum. She picked up and I stated how proud I was about having a mum like her. That I love her. That I feel proud to be her daughter. I started to cry. I hung up the fone.
Sunday Sickness!
As much as I love Sundays, I hate Sundays. This is the most awaited time of the week. Away from a boring cubicle, away from deadline screeches, away from the mundane life at work. Sundays is generally supposed to be a chill-out day with no worries.
Sunday reminds of getting up in the afternoon, complete the basic morning routine, basking in the sun in the frosty winter temperature of two degrees, speak to your relatives, take the whole bloody day to read every word of the newspaper, sit with mom dad, chat about the week. Then formulate the POA( Plan of Action) for the day. Decide where to hang out. Get Dilbara( my parents adopted third daughter;)) home, have her dressed up, and persuade the three-year old to convince my parents to take us out to any new hang-out zone in the city.
But eventually turns out to be a day, when mom ends up scolding me for not cleaning my room. I love my room when it is in a perpetual mess. With the single-bed that crowns my room, the left corner of the bed stacks the newspapers that are strewn apart after reading. You can find the whole week’s newspapers on the left side corner if it is a Sunday. The right corner of my bed houses the clothes I have adorned me all through the week. Under my bed, lie the shoes that have been worn the entire week!
Every Sunday, the newspapers get thrown into the balcony, and my clothes get thrown into the washing machine. And the semi-automatic bugger is a pain-in-the-ass, specially when the water is freezing cold, and washing clothes is the last thing you would wanna do on a holy-Sunday.
Every Sunday, HBO or Star Movies runs a nice movie, but my mom’s desirable wishes of watching a Tamil movie over-rides my desires. I don’t fucking understand coherent sentences in Tamil. My knowledge of my ‘mother-tongue’ is basic woodworking tools. Just canonic knowledge. Enough to talk to the grocery vendors and auto rickshaw walas. Fuming with rage, I enter my room, and start to watch a movie on my desktop.
And as soon, as I station myself to watch a mush movie, my dad barges into the room, to check his stock share prices. And my sister queues up next to check some stupid study material. And I go sulking in the corner. Its amazinghow everyone wants the same thing when I want it. And me and dad/mom would end up having a verbal encounter when we see each other for a VERY long time. Even if it is just momentary.
And beat this, it happens on every Sunday that I am at home.
Next Sunday on, I will not stay at home man. Away from vex, away from hen-pecking, away from the jade. Aah! I am just like any other teenager who just doesnt like to stay at home.
