Something totally weird is going on in my life.
I am supposedly helping a friend coping with his break up while nourishing a crush over him. I fuck like this boy and seeing him go so madonna over this girl is making me mad. It’s retard.
I am nodding my head, writing most sensible email while trying ways to get a date out of him. We are strict study buddy and never had a outing. Not even let roam in the road type. I see this guy for hours , we laugh together, we learn together and just that. Nothing else. Next we came to talk is his ex.
I know I am not the cutest in the bunch, OK maybe not the one in a pair even but man I got feelings too. We gell together like mango and vanilla. I listen to him like he is the next best thing. Seriously he is not.
I carry my heart on my sleeves and I drop it very easy. It doesn’t matter how he looks like or how he is academically, if he just shine when my heart is at weakest I got a crush.
I am not the type of girl who hide his crush. Everyone in my dorm will know who I got eyes over. They then try to do those irritating thing which we girls can do so effortlessly it seems it came wired on us. They literally eye him like he is a fresh meat. They will then tell me if he got a hairstyle or which color of cloth look good on him which frankly is insane. They notice what even I don’t notice and for record I notice a lot.
I know how these things work for me. There would like a good hype over this guy but next thing I know I am hyperventilating over another , its kinda like a trend I have seen so many times that now I rather enjoy then be anxious. After everything said and done we can always say shit happens.
Its OK if I stand alone cause I am always lone
Its OK if you don’t ask cause I am just an outcast
Its OK if you don’t look me in the eye
Its OK if you say the most hurtful things with smile
Its OK if I weep and you don’t see as you don’t look me in the eye
Its OK if I storm out of the room and you will still smile.
Its not OK if you come back to me with bruises
Its not OK if you cry and fight in front of me
Its not OK if you expect me to stich
Its not OK if you want to kiss away your tears
Its not OK if you make me more hollow to make yourself less shallow
For past few days I was on the edge. My tension was beating the hell out of my patience. I was just at my wits end. My pitiful condition has iatrogenic reasons. It just came erode my whole system and left me rotten. I felt wayward and distressed. It just wasn’t me. Then I found something.
My stint with diary writing was short and childish. It was the fad things you do and forget about it altogether. I have forgotten it. I have forgotten the person I was. I erased myself. Reading it again bring it all back. It came tumbling down, bouncing against each other,all crashing down in my mind. The past is remote on date, but it seems a different world out then. Everything was easy, uncomplicated. A molecule of glucose, a leucine, a moiety of fatty acid. Everything simplified against this age of starch, protein, and fat.
I haven’t thought reading it would matter much. But I was wrong. It just change the equilibrium of my heart and mind. My younger self reach up to me and shook me. It shook me hard and tight and then it show me. It show me all riches of life. When a yellow rose was just that yellow rose with no other meaning of friendship attach to it. When people were just that people with no unnecessary tag of bff attach to them.
Detach tag from people you love. No one is nobody father or mother or brother or sister or friend. There are just people , with their flaws and fabulousness. They are an independent entity. They have lives other than to just hang around with us. Letting go is important. Let them go.
As We grow up, we find our own reason for happiness, we pick our own cherries make our own pudding.
I have eaten mine. Actually devoured right down to its wrapper and what I wanted is to taste others. What I was demanding that they all line themselves up and be silent even glad when I start eating their part too. I first label them and now I want them to own up to it. It was stupid and cruel and I am sorry. I am sorry for ranting against you. I am sorry to make you feel bad for not being perfect. I am sorry I was not their when you need me. I am sorry to demand your presence now when you want no piece of Me. I am sorry to be jealous of your individuality. I am sorry to be jealous of your happiness. I am sorry for being jealous of your focus. I am sorry for projecting your wrong image with other. I am sorry for being a bitch. I am sorry to not ignore your shortcomings. I am sorry to wish to see your downfall. I am sorry for having so many things to be sorry about. You were my friend once now you are a person who wants different things.
I strain my neck to look up. I know the voice,heard it many times before. Looking up ,when a aeroplane goes by seems like a reflex to me.
It comes as a reflex to me like a few months back calling her my best friend was a reflex. But I outgrew that one. These series of blogs its sort of my last ritual to really get rid of my self her presence.
I met her when I was sixteen and we just hit off. I was proud of her like she was my shiny little toy. She was the new girl and I was big nobody,overweight and rough. I
Sort of took her under my wings but it seems she was always too bright to be hold. She was better then me in everything be it studies or sports you name it.
Those days were fun. Mainly because I don’t yet start mastering at the art of jealousy.(spoiler alert,I am ALWAYS bad guy here)
The ferocity of exam mellow down after curriculum changes to grading system. It seem as if thousand of collective breath of students let go at once.They become a matter of ease. Nobody remain afraid of them anymore. What I basically do all day is watch film and sitcoms telling my mother I am trying to improve my English and it bloody work every time. My father half sister love for anything having large mouthed English words also helped.
I was never famous with boys. Apart my large bones and larger fatty tissue I was also a snobbish girl. I was a girl which hate people better than her,who has vanity around people worser than her and tolerate people like her but still manage to label them irritating half a dozen times.I I was just a bad ass. I am still uncomfortable around boys but finds myself opening to them easily. I see in them a challenge. They are different, its like you have all your life eaten corn flakes and tasted oats for first time. Its refreshing,yes. But you are bound to get bored. They are like a puzzle to me, I solved them once and then I want something new or they will get stale and I will move on. You have my attention until you engage me. Turn mundane and you will see my attention wane. These are not the qualities of a trusted friend. I am like a local product which will serve you best for a few weeks but would not hold your hand forever. Sorry.
But I still got lucky and make few friends. Three to be exact. We were thicker than Caroline cousins. We all have our role in the group. I was the sarcasm queen. Still am.
I hate people who bully others but finds myself getting dominated among friends. To be honest I cannot understand how anyone want to be my friend and why such good ones. In retrospect I feel I didn’t deserve them. I feel sometimes I am so bad why anyone would love me and then the cynic in me kick in and I see the world as a loveless whore trying to fake it. It become difficult accepting a smile.
I try to embrace my cynic like a long lost sister. It has helped me a lot to get over my territorial behavior for her. It make it easier to let her go and even thankful for it. But(that’s a very nasty word right here) then I see it. It came unbidding and force me to look at it, makes me forlorn and guilty. When the goodness shine and you let it seep it all in, it question you. It ask you is it worth it. Is not knowing the pain cover for the happiness of being together. I cringe mentally when I see the photos of people in group laughing.I become jealous of them. then I try to picturise myself with them, but it never come whole. I see myself as a fake,plastic.
Maybe I am still looking for her. A girl who could understand me. Take me as I am. Wouldn’t judge me or tell me to change myself. Who will know why I do certain things at times when I myself forgets. I know its possible cause I have once befriend a girl like that when I was sixteen.
I hate being cheated. I know I have in my last post told you I am a cynic,but sometimes I do expect and I cry hard.
I am a college student and live a room with other girls. Life is a bit stressful when you are a college student .
So my story is like a normal Indian student who got lucky and finds herself in a prestigious college of india feeling a bit overwhelmed.
I was never top student to start with. In India things get a bit murky when you are sixteen year old.
Its not the preparation of sweet sixteen party preparation that stress you out(frankly I never heard about it until I saw it in a hanna Montana movie) but its the board exam. You must be wondering what I am talking about so it go something like, we have LKG and UKG,something like a prep school till we are five and then we start our class at one and go till twelve.
So when we are in tenth class we have a board exam, its like a state exam where all school of that particular state hold exam together. So what you got ,is a assessment of your position in a state level. We give same test in twelth. The marks of both board exams and particularly twelth helps you choose your college. It hold true for most courses except medical and engineering for which we have to give another entrance exam. This time in country level.
So it was this important year of my tenth board exam that I first have acquaintance of my friend, my future best friend and then now thorn in my tumultuous existence. I shouldn’t be too hard on her, she try her best in kota but that story for another day. To take a peep in present we are in talking terms, living under same roof,try to bear each other and have bickering almost every day and try to expect nothing out of one another. But I fail and I cry. Don’t tell her she don’t know.
This is enough education for one day. Wait for my next post and I will tell so what happen in tenth.
If you have met me two months before , I will describe you as a malevolent person. I am the kind of a dumb girl who speak first and look the meaning of the word later. I seriously thought it was like benevolent.
I always wanted a word to describe myself. As you can guess I am tardy with words. But the word I have chosen literally spell me right. I am CYNICAL. I always felt a bit dissociation from the ideas of goodness and kindness in person. I become surprise when somebody offer to help me. Its seems sour to accept help. To take kindness, to feel blessing. My views shroud me from any discomfort. I expect very little from people. I am like a very independent small business which strive to run single handed, be amiable to people but no over the top offers.
Being cynic help me face bad in people. I feel at ease exposing foul in a person and I don’t judge. How can I ,when I myself feel the urge to do something unagreeable thousand time a day?
I marvel at people who have faith,kindness, and motivation but I don’t want to be like them. I am very much satisfied what I am and I hate to Change anything about myself. My only regret is not being cynic enough.
I hate children, but not all of them. I can tolerate the quiet ones. Those of nature gift which sleep and sit and dont talk or cry. While on other hand i can barely put my anger down with restless kid. You hear big boisterous laughing ,saw them running round and round in circles and you can smell them from fifty leagues.Their antics which to their mother is deary is for me irritating. I am irritated by their sight their ways and mostly their mind. No offence I have nothing against their mother whatsoever. I can understand your want to throw your child at near strangers for a few minute respite. I can understand your selfishness with your child as it is the result of your seed. Please all those mother with apron on their waist and a sweet muffin in plate I have nothing against the idea of you rearing and bearing child do as you like yummy mummy but please give me my own freedom to frown upon your child.
Many a maidens are decieved by their looks. To them they look beautiful. A sweet sapling just out of earth. It seems to me they are slowly training their mind to like that bobbly mass of flesh they will rear someday. Love them as irratonaly as you like but please don’t shove the child in my hand and command me to like it. To me they are not cute. I am not so easily deceived by outer beauty. To me they are vomiting ,urinating, defecating, and a senseless creature driven by pure Pursuit of annoyance. They will hide in corner and will search for those things that drove you to madness and then they came out of hiding laced with this new weapon and broke havoc in the kingdom of mind.
Child heart is god heart. In his head always lay god hand and child and god bff relation go on and on and on. But ladies hear me out if child speaks god language then
1 god speak gibberish
2 god is dammn irritating.
What a disappointment I thought god to be a highly learned man.
Let me tell you something you already know: child is a fool. He is mad. Truly is, till he is six or eight his brain and spinal cord is not developed fully. When he is in embryo, he develop from primitive to more advanced,popularly know as progeny precedes the phylogeny.
So if you ever thought that your child is not a human being but a animal you are probably right, maybe when your child was morphing from some remote ancestor to human being he chose to remain animal much to his human mother chagrin.
I am ranting, all facts and fiction colliding. I am writing this as I travel in train and opposite to my birth sit a young mother and a younger child. I pity her, so young and so old with responsibility. I see a continue frown in her face, she came to wonder small small thing in her child life and can do nothing but laugh in public and suffer in solitaire.
So sorry all these ladies with one child on hip other in your arms and another one you hold in your hand, I love you as a mother. Come to think of it I can’t become this five foot five inch adult without her care and I am foreever of her debt but still,still I hate you child.