I try
the day isnt complete without you...
cant hug you, cant kiss you,
cant run to you, cant laugh without you,
cant turn to you, cant lean on you,
how will I endure.....
the day isnt complete without you...
cant hug you, cant kiss you,
cant run to you, cant laugh without you,
cant turn to you, cant lean on you,
how will I endure.....
I did not realise that I did not have a more than Rs.3.00 in my pocket when I decided to make a short soul searching trip. It was a spur of the moment decision. So packed my haversack with a towel, a top, sanitary pads, lip gloss, a soap and water. I threw my purse in the last minute without checking it for money. I left the house at about 9 A M. Walked till the bus stop close to my house and took a bus to another place close to my house. It was the worst summer in my small life. There was no shelter in the bus stop where I got down. So I had to sweat it out and wait for the Hop On- Hop Off bus that comes by at that time. By then I felt like a half roasted chicken not that I was going on a date but it did ruin my mood a little. I then got in the bus. There were a total of 6 people in the bus. Mostly 40+ women. There was one old guy and one good looking young guy. I did not really have my hopes high with it being a weekday. Anyways, the bus was air-conditioned and felt nice and big. It was a big yellow bus. I kinda liked the colour of the interiors. All yellow seats and terribly bright lights. And the whole bus smelt like a chocolate cake. And I knew instantly that it must be the Axe body spray. My husband used it for a while and he never smelt like a cake. Maybe a chocolate but never cake. So things seemed fine. The bus was going to a place called Mammallapuram. And it made a few other stops and a couple of other women in their early 30s hopped in. I sank into my seat comfortably and hugged my bag hoping it was my last journey to the center of nowhere. Ahem! I really did think it was a free bus. But this chauffeur looking guy dressed up in white, with a broad smile and a very funny
It's really hard to explain why people do what they do. I know that everybody is the hero of their own story. Sometimes it's difficult to think from the outside. Here too, I definitely feel like the protagonist. But I wonder if that might not be right and realise there is no guilt. Atleast, there is nothing on the lines of his accusation. Its definitely tiresome to be reading about the same person let alone write. Although, thats the only thing happening in my life at the moment. This is probably an outside view for me, considering I have been feeling like the victim sometime and a downright ugly villain sometime. God knows, there are people out there who will be more than excited that I feel this way. And again, it really is boring to write about marriage. The truth is, it always is about marriage or work for married people. It is not the that the knowledge is limited for us. More that the affectation on matters of the emotional side is high. If we are really happy about the going we might not even want to talk about it but when the going is extremely bumpy..... we always want to talk, write, read, empathise, sympathise and what not about it. I think that really is the solace for many. It is an outburst for sure. It will be that until we've said everything that needs to be said. Sometimes a spouse might not understand that need. Especially if they are people who can let off steam and not think about it later. I dont believe that everything can be solved if two people sit together and talk. That only works with people who talk. It does not work with people who do not like to make a discussion out of everything. Mostly men I have observed do not like to talk. And women ruin whats left by talking about it too much. I definitely belong to the second category. Its especially hard when talking is the only thing that can solve a certain issue. Its funny that way because we give up when its crucial whereas under other circumstances we would have never given up talking. One of my friend says, its easier for people to end things than to analyse and resolve. She is right. If it was love that existed between two people then its a lot of pain. But if it is merely a co-existence, it is a lot of money. One of my cousin hanged her two very young children before she hanged herself. There will be a million people who will call it cowardice. But I can never in a million years understand what turbulance she must have been through to do something of this magnitude. We all knew that she suffered a unhappy marriage. And one day she decided to erase any signs of her 28 year old existence from the face of earth. She had left nothing of her to even remotely remember her. Her husband is remarrying in exactly a years time from the incident. It makes me think that love or not, men can forget. And it doesnt matter if you are dead or alive. That knowledge hurts a little. Because they not only forget our existence but also our presence around them. There are exceptional people. But they never belong to us. And there are exceptional women but we can never be them.
Am back! I had the time of my life in the past 4 days. Hey! you all know this guy I write about all d time. Yeah well, this guy is my husband now. Its funny I know. .................long pause(u guys can laugh). So anyways, the going isnt all dat great. He's gone back to name calling. It was a fight. A very funny fight at dat. He likes to scream. I know dat. Always did. But this time I listened carefully to wat he was saying and it really was funny. And his face! lol. Animation at its best. Lord! I sometimes think it frustrates the guy just to see me staring at his facial muscles twist and turn instead of cowering at the sight of a huge guy with folded fists. LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL LOL. He definitely is stronger. And dat makes everything even more funny. Alrite, let me give u a brief picture of wat really happened. So we have a fight. Dont really know wat it was about after the first 5 minutes. But he is a very abusive guy. So he starts with "fucking moron, its my fucking house, your fucking parents, my fucking peace, don fucking talk......etc....". His parents are in the house. My younger brother too. Now he's worked himself up into a frenzy. He breaks my phone in 2 pieces. Dat really hurt cos I liked my lil phone. While all this is happening inside our bedroom his parents are really worried and are eagerly waiting outside. He ends his sentence with "Get the fuck out of my house". So I pack my bags. But he is still screaming. When I scream I mean scream. Like when somebody is hurting physically. He also has a tight grip of my left arm. It started to hurt but then there was so much happening that it was difficult to feel the pain. His parents have a grip of my right hand but not so tight. His parents are pulling me behind. He was pulling me inside. So my body was pretty much twisted like I was practising yoga postures with their help. He is still screaming. He was saying "Why the fuck are u still here? Why the fuck are you still here? Repeat 20 times." All this time pulling my arm. His parents were telling me " stop talking. stop talking. stop screaming. reapeat 30 times." All this while stretching my right hand all the way inside the room. And my brother was saying " You go. You go. repeat 10 times." Funny thing is, I wasnt talking. But his parents thought I was and they were asking me to stop talking. So the whole scene did make it seem like it was a big fight when infact it was only commotion. And because I like to annoy people, I was watching all their faces and it made me laugh. But while trying to control my outburst, I ended up sounding really flat when I said " I am not saying anything". More screaming and more hand pulling. It was ofcourse over in a few minutes. But I definitely felt like my arms were longer. It still feels like that. And in my mind I was thinking, the next time I would ask them all to hold my legs. It would be very very funny. But I am sure I could use some stretching. All said and done, the fight continued for the next 4 days. But during the heat of things, I could not tell them to hold my leg instead. And all 4 days, I ended up getting my hands stretched over and over again!
Talk about priorities that change! Its a bad feeling already that you have to be on someones' priority list already and not the special person, let alone be numbered. It is pretty funny that there has to be situations that hurt you apart from the ones that make you sad. I mean, imagine feeling like a complete jerk when you get hurt. Like getting hurt is not enough. In a way it teaches you that everybody have limits. You cannot have special entry to anybodys' so called personal space. Coming to think of it, what makes you special when someone says you are? I just think that they mean they like talking to you longer than the rest. And that is absolutely no reason to feel special about. You probably are a good listener. And that is all. Sometimes when dad tells me that I cannot be everything, I did not quite believe him. Now, I do. Infact, I do not think I can be anything. Yesterday was the worst day of my sick life. It pays to maintain dignity and only be that much interested in the other person as much as the other person. Errr that sounds confusing. I like that guy who said "be a mirror". But I am extremely unable to be one. But I shall keep trying. Somehow I keep accumulating the things people say. I can forgive but I just cannot forget. The more I try, the more I remember. And one day I might explode with all the things people say. Like a balloon full of words. And it is going to be a big stink. It makes me wonder though if I am probably all that people call me. I might be. I am afraid to even think. My friend and I went to this temple near my house. And I cried strangely. So this uncle who is incharge of the temple is also my neighbour, started narrating the temples' history. It was pretty interesting. This uncle and his wife do not have kids. So while narrating the story, he paused for a moment and looked at us. Then he said 'I wronged my first wife, which is probably why I do not have a kid today'. He did not seem too sad though. Maybe he was too old to regret it. But I completely forgot why I was crying. And then my friend told me that the guy she likes did not reciprocate her love. She is 27 and she has a back problem. So nobody was ready to marry her. She is very pretty though. And I heard myself telling her that things that make you sad are the things that will not let you be happy. That was total bullshit. Best part is, she vowed to help herself that day. Hmm. It sure is a nice feeling to know that there are a whole lot of other people in this world who require a jerk like me to make wise ass comments like that.
People told me dat all d titles sound disastrous. So am changing it. Lemme sing you all a song.
I live in Hateville in my mind. I have become disastrous and disgusting. For example this guy I know called me on my birthday. Now usually I would have been rude and asked him to fuck off. But silly me decided to be nice to this guy because it was MY birthday. So I started the call nicely, ended it nicely too. Now this guy sounded genuinely happy that I was being nice. So the next day he tried again but this time he messaged me. But he acted like a dick-head. So again I made it clear to him that he was not the kind of guy I would make a life with in a million years. Then I realised that it made me happy to be my usual self and chase him away than to be nice to him. The next day even Nandhu had to face the wrath. He did not call me on a Sunday and it pissed me off. I know what you are thinking. That's no reason to be angry. Yes, it was no reason to be angry. And yes, it cost me the love of my life. I dont know if he would ever call me again. But it does not matter to me anymore. Its not really the reason itself. But it was his attitude that pissed me off. He took me for granted. It should not have bothered me ideally. But it did. And boy! what a fight we had! And we also decided to call it quits. I know. All for a fucking phone call that he did not make. So see? I live in Hateville. I feel like a moron who does not how to respect others' space. I even feel like a dick-head myself. I know I hurt people. And Jesus Christ! where on Earth do I find words like those when I fight?? I need a distraction. And when I spoke to Nandhu today he told me that I dont trust him enough which is why I keep fighting. It is true. I had to listen to it from the horse's mouth to realise it. But it was too late to tell him that and besides if I accepted the fact it would mean that he would never like me enough ever again. But that's just me. I always ruin my life. Sometimes I feel like a kid being so immature all the time. But that's only with Nandhu. Otherwise I take care of my family and brother and friends and they have had no complaints. Not until I met Nandhu again atleast. So maybe it is good that we had the fight. My mind feels elated after I had that fight. I am able to breathe easy now. I was feeling all worked up until then. Now am feeling better. So am not really a psycho. Thank God for that. And he is not a saint. Thank God for that again. Because if he were he would have been upset that I dont trust him. But he seemed to feel relieved himself that he said it. So there you go realisation is good for health. So is a good fight. But I did not quite feel hate towards him. Maybe because it was my mistake this time. Ahem! Its always my mistake. I am so inclined to making myself look like a jerk every alternate day. For the super chill person that I used to be, I have certainly changed for the worst. Imagine, I dont even let him sleep peacefully. It's not just him. I do that to my parents too. I get all worked up when they want to do something that requires my attention. I end up feeling miserable that I could not even take the slightest pressure. I use strong words again. The words hurt me. I know it ruins my parents. Yesterday mom asked me if I loved her as much as she loved her mother. So I was happy to answer that one and said 'Of course I do'. But she said that she did not beleive that I loved her as much. That hurt like crazy. Then I kind of realised what it feels like when I have to say the same thing to Nandhu. But then I thought, that's my mother. What she says might hurt me. But he would not feel the same way necessarily. So what do I do? I really need help. Where do I start? I would not want to see a shrink because the next time there is trouble I would want to go to him immediately. Maybe a distraction. Maybe an adventure. Or better yet, I should just run away. To a distant land. Goa. Yipppeeeeee. I could become a saint there. I could tatoo all over my body and wear all the jewels one could think of. Even smoke some grass everyday. Sing funny songs. My own songs. And to earn money I could become a professional killer. Take lives to make a living. Does it sound cool or what! I think I would be better off killing people and making lives miserable than trying to be nice. People realise their careers during the course of life. When you are good at something,take it up as a profession. So am going to do exactly that. So anybody who needs to kill,ruin,damage,break,hurt lives, call me.
Hi monki,