R.I.P.

My turtles died. I don’t think I have ever been this bummed about death.
Guess Im really not the nurturing kind.

Wow

I’m not not a big fan of irony, especially when I live on the one street that has wedding dresses put up on every other window. Its annoying and happens to leave my mom depressed.
So gems like this one here really liven up our evening walks.

The “structure” on the bust area would have made more sense if it was electrified.

Cuties in a half shell!

I just got me self the most darling little turtles. I’ve never had pets before, mostly because the whole idea of looking after a living thing  and taking care of it puts me off . But the moment I saw these …sigh!…my heart skipped a beat …

My maternity instincts sure have a funny way of kicking in.

Erasure – Oh lámour

I was crazy in love with the original version when I was little . This is the acoustic version . I’m almost in tears….sniff!

And the troubles continue

I missed my first driving test yesterday. How? Because I did not check my friggin’ phone for messages for the whole of the previous day. The look on my instructor’s face , when I told her why ,was priceless. Her eyes almost popped as she clutched her mobile phone, with a half finished text message, close to her chest .
Why on earth do you own a mobile phone? she yelled in her crazy shrill voice.
Why isn’t there more than a day’s notice for tests? I muttered under my breath, fervently hoping she hadn’t heard what I just said. Trust me, you never want to counter an irate arab female, especially the piece of work who sat right beside me. Never look at them straight in the eyes either. Their eyes have the power to bore a hole through your very soul.
The next couple of minutes had me staring at the wheel, mortified, while she gestured wildly at all her instructor friends to come over to our car. Next thing I knew it was all shrieks and gasps while she rattled on in arabic about my gross stupidity. Atleast I had no clue what she said. Always a silver lining.

shit….I can’t think of a title …Its been way too long

Its 12 AM and I can’t sleep . And what do I turn to ?…my crappy ol’ blog . It was wierd reading all my old posts. I havent changed much.  Its been two years and I’m still the jaded nihilistic b* as I’ve always been. Ok…quick updates ….I got a deadend job (what else?) , patched things up with my dad , was engaged for like 2 weeks before my almost-in-laws revealed their true colours and I realized I was about to make a  colossal mistake. The last one was pretty recent and my parents are still smarting from that one and for some strange reason they decide to send me off to take driving lessons from this antagonistic female who , I swear,  wants to see me die inside. Having said all that I am strangely content though . Somehow I think it will all turn out to be ok … hmmm…. maybe I have changed a little bit.

The End

Well, I finally did it. I have resigned. I am now officially unemployed, part of the statistics…whatever.

It’s either the best or worst decision I have ever made. My life has just blown wide open right in front of me. I haven’t the faintest idea what to do next. Actually I have much too many ideas swirlling in my brain, I just can’t seem to make up my mind. Anyway hopefully something will turn up. Marriage is almost definitely on the cards, somewhere around the end of this year. I wonder which poor bastard will end up with me.

I don’t think I will be blogging anymore. The blog has lived past its purpose. I don’t need it anymore to channel my frustrations. So this is me saying adios.

Still Jinxed, but Happy Anyway

A perfect week gone by without a hint of work. Its never been that long, I think. Its funny: I normally get all worked up thinking about my dismal career. I don’t anymore. The pills must really work!

This is interesting actually. My career is in ruins but I don’t feel bad about it anymore. Its a messed up placed to be isn’t it? Anyway I have till the end of July to get my mind cleared up and leave this all behind me. I am really looking forward to start a new life from scratch and this time pay more attention to relationships. Thats something I’ve sucked at miserably. I wonder how many friends I have lost because of my snobby personality. I would like to attribute it to my depression. But I’m pretty sure its been an inherent nature of mine.

I’m not afraid to talk about my depression anymore. I was always afraid people would take it the wrong way: either that I have gone mad or that I was just being needy or something. I never could understand it myself. I thought I was being a gutless, lazy pig. I loathed being me with each passing day, for years. I didn’t know why I was down most of the time. I didn’t know why I’d just burst out crying for the silliest reasons and sometimes for no reason at all. I cannot mention everything I had to go through, most of it is too horrifying for me to mention here. For the first time I feel for the millions of people out there who are much worse off than me, people who are really debilitated by this disease.

Not many people think of clinical depression as something to be treated medically like a cold or fever. There is a difference between just being down or having the blues and depression caused due to certain biochemical / hormonal disturbances. Most people do not realize that. Its a shame. The social stigma attached to it is prevalent the world over. My own family could not deal with it. Most of my friends don’t know about it. I’m pretty sure I’d either be rejected or bombarded with religious clap-trap.

For now I’d just like anyone who is reading this to know, depression is not something you have to hide. Get help before its too late or help someone else you know who may be depressed. Its not the end of the world though it may feel like it. Life may be pointless but since you are here anyway you might as well enjoy the ride.

It actually feels very weird to write optimistic crap like this. I think I’m enjoying being even cornier than before if my previous post is any indication.

Monsoon

 

A distant rumble signalled the first showers of the season. The skies poured copiously. The angry rain lashed out at everything blocking its way as it seeked the parched earth. The trees swayed in unison and the leaves trembled; the more frail ones fell off, dying in its slow descent. Fat drops of rain coalesced to form puddles, huge puddles on the already potholed roads.

 

I was late for work. My umbrella was defenseless against the torrential downpour. Soaked to the bone, I happily folded my umbrella and let the rain wash me over. My heart leapt with pleasure. I felt free. I didn’t care about the river of rainwater that got formed over the sides of the road. I waded through it, not giving a thought to my brand new shoes. I almost squealed with delight. Its not everyday that I get to wade through filthy, watery muck.

 

Unknown faces all around were hurrying to go to places they had to go. I had none. I walked back home slowly, sometimes with my my head tilt towards the sky, reveling in every drop. I smiled as a woman, I passed by, got splashed with muddy rainwater thanks to a speeding car.  I wore the same silly smile all the way back home. I couldn’t wait to slip into bed. As soon as I did, I closed my eyes and savoured the moment.  

 

I remembered the showers of a distant past: from my childhood. The scent of the wet earth seemed headier then. The sound of the rain was a symphony in itself. Claps of thunder accentuated the magical display of nature’s talent. I’d sit out on the porch just to watch. I loved to spend hours just sitting there, thinking of absolutely nothing. Gusts of wind would often send stray drops my way. Those were moments I lived for. The cold touch of heavenly raindrops would set off goosebumps all over. Pure ecstasy.

 

Those were carefree days. The monsoon season meant no school, no homework and no grumpy old hags who quite suspiciously passed as teachers. Power cuts were rampant. But it didn’t matter; the whole family would sit together on the porch swapping stories and enjoying cut mangoes. Ah the mangoes! A meal is never complete without a helping of those delightful fruits. The main prize however was the core of the fruit. My sister and I would constantly fight over who gets to suck on it. I was always glad there were just two of us. Imagine the bloodshed had there been more. Little girls can be unbelievably spiteful and surprising strong. My little sister would more than often hold me in a half nelson till I gave up.

 

The fun was never over even after the sky let up. There were things to explore out in the garden. I’d scour the place for the cutest and the tiniest frogs there were. I’d also discover various beetles and other fauna emerging out their hideouts to greet the sun. Spiders frightened me so I stayed out of their way. Another favorite past time of mine was to chase stray chickens. How I loved to watch them squawk and flap their wings frantically as if they might fly by some freakish miracle. They wish!

 

There was a huge part of the backyard that was overgrown with plantlife. That was the best place to look for exotic stuff. To me anything I hadn’t seen before was exotic. The place was also home to a peculiar kind of poisonous plant. One brush against it would give you a rash that would last for days. I learnt the hard way the first couple of times I had been there. I’d go in there wearing sandals and a heavy stick to protect myself. Intrepid ol’ me would strike at anything that moved. As much as I loved plants and nature, I would not come out of that place without massacring everything in sight; must be some kind of primeval instinct.

 

The time in between the showers was agonizingly little. The first drizzle would send me scurrying home. My mother would have heaps of  hot fried bananas waiting for me, just for me; my sister did not care much for them. My dad didn’t either. I’d take the whole bunch to my cozy spot on the porch and watch the rain all over again.  

 

Over the Edge

She stands on the roof ledge and looks down on the bustling city; chaos so controlled it almost makes sense. But not to her. She can barely hear the cacophony from down below. All she hears is her own heart pounding against her chest, reverberating through her, hurting her.  She closes her eyes.  Her mind swirls with images she cannot connect. She can’t describe them. Words just seem out of reach. Words are meaningless anyway. She has always known that.

The moving specks down below are completely oblivious of the young woman standing on the roof of a ten story high building. The specks have enough issues of their own but time eludes them; time can be so indifferent.

No one knows where she is. No one knows what she is going through. Every appeal for help was construed to be some kind of attention seeking tactic. Were they? She is not sure. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing does.
 
She opens her eyes again, this time swelled with tears, blurring her vision. The familiar heavy feeling comes back to her. Her throat hurts unbearably, from  unuttered cries of anguish. A dull ache grows inside her like a water balloon waiting to burst. She wants to scream, but not even a whimper escapes her. Suddenly she feels faint and loses her balance instantly. A momentary lapse but enough to jolt her mind to high alert. Fear takes over, good ol’ stinky fear and it overpowers her. Funny thing fear: its the secret behind human kind’s survival. She holds on to the ledge with all her might and slowly makes her way to the other side. Crouched with her head between her knees, she rocks back and forth trembling, trying not to cry. Failed. Again.