Words left unsaid…

One of my close friends said the other day, that one should always say what is on one’s mind and not leave room for regret later. Not one to preach but not practise what she says, she lives her life accordingly. She expresses love and hate quite indiscriminately and with equal enthusiasm. Although this trait of hers has landed her in a soup on quite a few occasions, she has not changed and I admire her for it.

The only occasions, where I would have liked to incorporate this advice of hers’, are times when, I was terribly let down by people whom I had trusted and lovingly incorporated as prominent threads in the sparse fabric of my life .What I felt then was a boiling rage, pain mingled with hurt but helpless because no words would come.

I suffer from this particular predicament of wanting to scream and hurl abuses at someone who has hurt me and not even realized it, but am unable to do so. My throat simply closes up and words refuse to co-operate with me in that particular moment. People have different ways of dealing with anger and grief. Some of you tend to let it all out, and once the storm is over you feel much better for it. You let the other know exactly what you think of them. How I wish, it was the same for me. My way of handling things is much different and regrettably inadequate. Not only am I not able to express my feelings but I shy away from any ugly situations and retract into myself, shutting my mind against the reality of what is happening. I am ashamed to admit that I am a bit of a coward and tend to avoid confrontations; sometimes at the cost of losing my peace of mind.

I wish I knew what is it that stops me…is it the thought of saying something cruel and hurting the person in front of me or is it the fear that I may hear something about myself that I wish had been left unsaid.

I'm just catching up on my sleep...

Oh no!!! Seems like one of those days where I can be a real pain; depressed and high on self pity mixed with a healthy dose of self loathing.

I think I am getting dumber by the day…there’s no use beating around the bush or tip-toeing around this issue anymore, touchy though I may be. I have become as dull as dishwater and am losing all hope of returning to what I took for granted to be my normal self. My brain has turned to a gooey mess of molasses and takes ages to process the simplest of information. I wonder what happened to that person who was interested in a lot of stuff and eager to try new and different things, only a few years back.

These days I consider it a significant achievement if I am able to get my laziness out of bed and go through my things to do for the day, mostly in a robotic fashion if I may add . I seem to have lost total interest, there’s nothing, zilch…nada…nothing at all. My grandma was way sharper at 90 than I am now…Why do I feel so old so suddenly with nothing to look forward to?

I don’t even know the reason I have inflicted this pathetic excuse of a post on you guys; but I had to write down my feelings somewhere, for this to sink in and for me to try and do something about it. Ignore my complaining and try to have a nice weekend.

Master of all trades...

Why oh why do people lay so much stock on being an achiever, a success, on having done something others can be proud of and blah blah. Have you gotten a whiff of the deep feeling of underachievement flowing in my veins yet? Yes, I can do nothing right and I have accepted it. However, there are five things that I excel in… ummm have mastered(read am a complete disaster) are:

1) Am an excellent cook. News of my cooking prowess has spread far and wide. My cooking is a true tribute to the senses; you can smell the burning food from miles away. My friends’ check if their insurance is up to date if they come to know that I am going to cook for them. I can just imagine my mum’s eyes brimming over with tears of joy, on the one day that I place before her a selection of food, that is edible(Alas! anything out of the can or pre cooked is not food for her).

2)I am brilliant with things involving technology. You see I have a long and checkered history with technology and a lot of references to fall back on. Having opened and explored every single gadget that came into our house since I was a wee child. No one can accuse me of not knowing how to use a screwdriver. Why would someone expect me to know how to operate a strange new TV remote is beyond me?

3)Can haggle a good bargain when out shopping. Read get cheated most of the time. I cannot bargain with shopkeepers to save my life. Wonder why I never picked up this life saving skill essential to compulsive shoppers, like me, inspite of seeing my friends, relatives and sundry other people in violent action.

4)I like to believe that I can sing even though I have been assured over the years that I am delusional about my vocal capabilities.

5) I am dismal with directions(no lies anymore). I might have traveled the same street for a gazillion times but wonder of wonders I still manage to get lost. The icing on the cake is when I am giving directions to someone, to a particular place, especially when they are driving. Have driven quite a few people mad in this process.

I truly believe that I will manage to master these tasks someday; nauseatingly optimistic that I am.

Attack of the Colors...

I have been walking around a mass of nerves lately, paranoid to the extreme and jumpy as a rabbit. All this due to the much feared festival of Holi.

The youngest sister came home the other day looking as if she had been kicked in the stomach and then kicked some more. Going by the look on her face I was guessing the worst natural calamity or World War III. Once she had recovered enough she disclosed that it was indeed a water missile balloon that had struck her left ear with the force of a comet. She truly feared she had gone deaf for a few minutes. On top of it whoever that cretin is who had pelted her with it had managed to get water into her phone which had predictably stopped working. She was spitting mad…so mad that she was crying tears of fury.

Can you imagine any good coming from a festival where people feel free to get high on a drink made with Cannabis in it; drag unsuspecting victims of revelry out of their homes and douse them with colours without their approval.

I do have a MO when it comes to coping with the week commencing Holi. It took a lot of people, pelting water balloons at me, before I was forced to take some steps to protect myself. Most of this involves sneaking around, trying to fade into the background, which considering my personality should not be too tough, but to my dismay is during this time. Your stride must be quick and firm but not too fast for they must not sense your fear. Make the most of your visionary abilities and keep an eye on any missiles which might be hurtling at impossible speeds your way. I believe I resemble one of those objects whose heads keep bobbing on a spring as I try to do a full 360 degress at once, eyes darting this way and that frantically. Every step feels like I’m stepping on a mine field. During the amount of time it takes to enter my home, I feel as if I have a humoungous anxiety attack coming on. All these precautionary measures are usually in vain though as you must have figured by now. What can one do against such an inevitability?

There is not much you can do in the way of retribution, however, as society as a whole and parents in particular seem quite encouraging of such behaviour. Except for yelling a few of your choicest swear words. No wait, you can wait for Holi to come round again, next year and for the whole painful cycle to be repeated. Except, the intensity of the torture would have gone up a few more degrees, as the children get bloody smarter and more devious and a large number of adults regrettably dumber.