Jealousy...

I realize that I’m not exactly the most qualified person to be writing this… but I feel the urge to anyway. So, if I am not seeing things from your perspective, dear reader, I humbly urge you to forgive me.

Jealousy… that scaly green eyed drake that is said to awaken when we feel we’re not being appreciated for what we’re worth when someone else gets what is our due. The colour of green that adorns our thoughts at times. I’ve been a victim of his (her) charms quite often.

But this post is not simply about the sharp pangs of jealousy we feel when our colleagues or siblings get praised in out stead… this post is about the clawing of the beast within us when someone we love is attentive to someone else who is not us. The jealous lover who eyes his or her paramour lavishing attention on another person is someone we’ve all grown up listening or reading about… or being.

I’m sure there are cases where the jealousy is fully warranted and is but the most obvious reaction that is to be expected. But there are those cases where someone is so insecure that they cannot bear to see their special someone in the company of anyone other than themselves.

I’ve had friends who’ve embodied this type of jealousy. Women who have the best of men for a companion and yet, they’ve been nothing but miserable about how they fear the whole world is out to get their man. Yes, that may very well be the case, but what of the trust that they are supposed to have on their man? The one they chose over droves of other men… the one to whom they gave their hearts? The one who in turn chose them and the one who has the special smile and twinkle in their eyes reserved exclusively for them?

Please, don’t get me wrong, dear reader. Having been mostly single, I've always mused on this concept of amorous jealousy. And as much as I know it is bad, I wonder if I will feel its sting myself if and when I fall in love with someone. It’s a concept I am not entirely comfortable with.

I hope, when I do find someone, that the person I fall for be the sort of person who can be loved and loves everyone in return. Yes, I did say love. I shall pray for the strength and the trust to know that he will love everybody as we all should but in his heart, there shall be place for only a few… and that I shall find a place there. This jealousy that I speak of is not merely limited to those who’re most likely to replace us. It is also at times, directed at anyone who is close to the one we love. It could be a sister, a mother, a friend, anyone…

I shall pray that my man have a large enough family to cherish… a loving family that shall love him dearly and one with whom he shall have a strong bond. They cared for him well before I was in the picture. They have loved him unconditionally and in a way that I hope to emulate – maybe only to fail… but still, they’re an integral part of his person. And that means he is the person I choose to love because they made him that way. I should be grateful then, shouldn’t I? True that sometimes, people tend to take their significant other too lightly… I’ve personally been there… having been relegated to being a figure in the background as the man chose to lavish his family with attention. As much as I did not begrudge him for what should have been my share, in my case, he treated me with indifference that bordered on abuse. He refused to protect me when I've known men who’re not even romantically attracted to me did. But that doesn’t mean all men would be that way. And as much as it sounds silly, I wish to be part of his family… to see his loved ones as mine and to assure them that there is enough love to pass around without anyone getting the short end of the stick.

Am I being an idealist here? I don’t know. But this has been the way I've always seen the world and the people in it. As much as I am cynical about finding someone to love, I am sure that when I do find someone, I shall cherish that person and make it known that I trust them enough to share them with the world. Because I know, there’ll always be a special something that shall never be shared and being accorded that honour is in itself the greatest feeling!

But I know I shall feel the beast awakening within me at times… I am but human! But when that time comes, I pray for the good sense to look beyond the apparent into the actual. If my man is good at heart, I shall trust him until he proves otherwise. But whatever it is, the person dictating the way I react will be him.

And thus, I come to my final prayer – let me find someone worthy of my trust and love.

Remanence

The pristine white… nothing mars its surface. And I am loath to put pen to it, spoiling the perfection that is so becoming of it. But it cannot be helped. I've been deliberating on this exercise for so long, I feel any further delay will not be for the best.

But when you look at it, isn't it in these most tangible things that our lives’ memories are stored? An unwritten page… the drying ink well… the coffee growing cold… the splatter of the rain against the window pane. All those inexplicably tangible things… they all remind us of certain events in life.

Some of these events we cherish and bemoan the fact that they’re long gone, already a memory. And some, we wish would remain in the past and not ravage our minds with the pain we have associated with them.

This memory… of a lazy afternoon with the rain pouring from the heavens above… with just myself for company as my favorite song keeps playing in a loop – I’ve long since associated this with utter bliss. A time when things were so uncomplicated and simple. I claim simplicity is an illusion that one would do well not to cling onto. But I know I’m the hypocrite here. How I long for the simple past where I had stories to hide myself in… stories that I had made up in my mind, with characters from a well-loved book or from a television series that I just couldn't get my mind out of.

But it is the very fact that we can never go back to those simple times that makes them all the more precious. And all we have are remanences of those times left behind in the many tangible objects, the connection strangely and ironically intangible!

Maybe if given enough time, we can transfer our entire life’s essence into enough tangible receptacles to live on… even if only to the select few who can make the connection.

A moment immortalized until there be someone to remember. 

Messages...

She is one of a kind. She wakes up in the morning, her dark brown tresses far from perfect. Her eyes are all groggy from sleep and on some days, the vestiges of her makeup from last night still cling on to her skin. She smiles sleepily into the mirror as she remembers last night’s conversation. She has seen too many men court her… become her friend, praise her wit and then get intimidated by the same thing that they praised. She intimidates them… and that has always left her with only herself for companionship. The men… they can’t seem to know what to do with a woman with brains and soon, the cold feet follow.

But this time, she swears it’s different, as she did for all of them in the past. The Kanji on the wall next to the mirror is a stark black against the white paper. “希望の正夢へ頑張ろう”. Her smile widens. Yes, she has toiled towards making her dreams come true. Her hand travels across the mattress, under her blanket and pillow until it grabs her phone. She smiles again thinking of how she dozed off in the middle of the conversation. He’s sent her some funny picture… a meme… a funny retort. Her silent giggles penetrate the morning air as she sends another in reply. And then, she waits. She waits for the telltale chime that a reply has come. The times are good for her. She can’t wait to go to work… to meet him.

Grumblings of a person denied a bath!!

It has officially been 2 days since there has been a “cable fault” near our house that has rendered our motor practically useless! That means it has officially been 2 days since I’ve taken a bath! And that too on a weekend! Yes, it bugs me a lot that I can’t seem to be able to wash my hair in what feels like a million years. But what this episode has helped me do is that it showed me just how much of an asshole the average human being can be.

My father is currently in a hospital undergoing blood transfusions, thanks to his Dasatinib medication giving him the roundhouse kick while killing away his cancer cells. And I’ve had a partially torn ligament (whatever that is!) that’s virtually left me bed ridden.

Add to that, douchebags for tenants and a really irritated father who’s just dying to take out his anger on random people for random reasons, I can assure you, it has not been a good weekend so far.

Ugh… it sucks to be hurt and dependent.

And in India, the people who work at the electricity board talk to you like they’re doing you some sort of favour repairing lines…. Like they’re doing it for free. I know as an Indian I ought to be numb to these imbeciles and their antics by now. But there are times when I wish for nothing better than to go and smash their skulls in and ask them how they like it now! Anger management issues, much? Hah!

All in all, it’s been a lovely weekend! I hope yours is going well!

Workplace rants - on make up and people!

The decisive chime of the elevator indicated that I was in the 6th floor. This is where my office is. I step out of the elevator car and gingerly take a step outside the elevator car. I have a walking stick to do the job that my right leg ought to be doing. And the people are staring. Their eyes go from the walking stick to my backpack with its many badges and stuffed animals attached to it. I can sense the range of emotions that emerge from behind their eyes... sympathy, curiosity, disdain... I hoist my bag a little higher up my shoulder as I punch in my employee number. This will make sure I get paid today. Once that is done, I trudge down the corridor, swiping my access card in front of doors, making sure they open up without a problem. It gives me a sense of satisfaction knowing that I am allowed here... that I belong.

And then, I see them. My team waits for me. There are faces that show genuine worry in seeing me walking with the stick in hand. I smile at them. Wouldn't want them worrying now! Mani... my little brother - merely a child... he smiles as he pushes chairs out of my way, while cracking a joke at my limping in the most light-hearted way. Hari.... my soul sibling grins as we share the 'yep-I've-survived-a-torn-ligament-bitch-bring-it-on!' smile. But then, there are those who don't share the same amount of sincerity. 

One of them approaches me and the first question thrown my way is, 

"Sensei, you're not wearing make-up. It makes your face look weird. You don't look good."

I smile back, "I'm sorry. I didn't know your approval on how I looked was needed to progress through the day today, sir."

I see that the remark has done its job. The person's smile falters a bit and they then hastily add about what they really meant. They say I look sleep deprived. Yes, try sleeping with one leg burning like it's been dipped in flaming petrol, why don't you? They say I have dark circles. Yes... So? And when they run out of excuses, they scuttle back to their seats, pretending to go back to working. But I know they're still smarting and seriously, I couldn't give a shit!

And it gets me thinking. The other day, after days of shuttling between the hospital, for my really ill father and work, for my daily bread, I was left with absolutely no energy to put my face on. And that was when people started telling me how I ought to doll up a little. Now, as much as I don't have anything against people giving others advice, I always tend to see if the timing is appropriate. But I let that slide. 

When my father did get better and I was able to better afford time to actually put mascara to lash, the same people came about and jibed about how different I looked and how there were now layers of face paint. The same people who seemed to think of it as a cardinal sin to come to office without make up now ridiculed me for putting stuff on my face. I let that one slide too.

And now this... This was strike no. 3 and they were out... they had better start walking back to the bench!

I know we live in a society where women are forced to either doll up or apologize for dolling up. I am in no way against make up or for it. I am against people telling me what I should be doing with my face. I will decide when I'll put my make up on. I'll decide whether I wear pretty earrings for the day. I'll be the sole reason why I dress up. I don't dress up to impress my colleagues. I don't smell like some of them do. I don't wear shoddy clothing. My hair is not all over the place... so, why can I not decide when I need to put that lipstick on. And when I decide to put it on, why do I need to feel sorry about it?

There's just no pleasing some people... and then again, I don't need to. That's the good thing of being me!

Nasty ads up my turf!!!

Is it just me or is anyone else getting these weird ads on your blog's home page?

I don't know what happened, but I get these ads only on the first page. I also observed that I had this weird plugin called Adanak that seemed to pop up every time I did a Google search. I managed to find the adware in question and uninstalled it. But despite that, (the plugin in the search pages have long since vanished) I keep getting these ads popping up in my blog's home page. Mind you, it's only in the home page that I get to see these ads and only in the Chrome browser. I want to know if it's just my computer or if everyone is seeing these ads.

For anyone who's browsing through my site, if you find these ads popping up, could you let me know in the comments? That would be really helpful!

EDIT: The ads have seemingly vanished, but I would want to make it doubly certain. So, if there is anything weird with the blog at all, do let me know!

Cold coffee...

The curtains dance in the wind. The steady buzz of the computer’s fan is the only sound in the room. It isn’t too hot. I don’t switch on the AC…no, I don’t need it today. There is a slight hint of a shower in the horizon. Yes, let it rain… about time it did! My hands scroll the roller of the mouse downwards as I see the Facebook page ride upwards.

Updates… of people from an age long gone by. Smiles, happiness, joy… all of the emotions that suddenly seem absent from my life. I know I sound like I whine… I know there are plenty of reasons for me to be truly happy. I know there are those who’re not even half as lucky and blessed as I am. And yet, the sigh that escapes my lips belies the fact that I am unhappy.

Stupid bitch! I scream in my head. Why do you give a shit what other people are up to? They sure as hell don’t! My eyes travel to my right leg. It’s heavily bandaged to hide the swelling that just does not go away. An injured ligament is what they call it. Hell’s calling card is what I call it.

A random acquaintance has gotten married, the stupid social networking site screams. She stands with her handsome as hell husband and exudes positive radiance… like a gazillion nukes going off simultaneously. I snort. I look at the vacant ring finger of my left hand. And I remember… how he held it as though prolonged contact could give him some horrible disease. I smirk as I think of the line he drew on our bed, commanding me not to cross over. A bit rich coming from a guy who looked like a walrus in a suit. Another sigh follows… marriage… a farce in my case! I click on the link that opens her album. She exhibits her wedding for the whole world to see. And rightly so! They look so happy… so in love. My thoughts again turn back to the day I saw him for the first time in person. An engagement that lasted a year did nothing to break the ice. All we spoke about was the stupid internship I’d take if I ever was to join his side as his wife… a job interview. That was what it was…it was always about the job I’d get. Never about the life we’d build together. I snort back a laughter as I think of the person I was back then. How could I have settled for so little? But then again, I look around me. There is nobody here. Little was all I had back then… compared to the nothing I have right now.

I sigh again… I seem to slowly be replacing my breathing with sighs. I truly wish her happiness as I close the album. I can’t afford to have them see me crumble. They say it’s much better out than in. They say I’m sure to get a good guy to look after me. Like I need to be looked after. They worry I’ll be all alone when they leave. Little do they know that I’ve always been alone. I’ve always felt this way even in a room full of people. And sometimes, being alone both inside and outside is worlds better than having to radiate a warmth I don’t possess surrounded by people who couldn’t give a shit.

I log off. My coffee has gotten cold… just the way I like it. I take a sip, savouring the sugary goodness that would be lost in the heat. Life is bittersweet. And somehow, it makes life all the more beautiful and precious. I don’t give a rat’s ass if I will ever find a soulmate… no… I’ve already found the perfect partner. My eyes dart her way as we walk towards each other. Our hands reach out to each other as I take in her messy hair and her lined eyes. Her eyes crinkle into a smile as our fingertips touch each other. The cold glass pane is all that divides us. Myself from myself. We take another sip and close our eyes.

We’re finally where we want to be, precious!