I Understand Now What My Mom Meant by ‘Books will ruin your brain’

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Sometimes I start talking and stop because a voice inside begs me to (not a ‘voice’, voice). I see the look at the other person(s) face and my tongue slips a little. That is my cue to stop talking. And then suddenly I am tired. Then I just feel like being quiet for the rest of the day.

Sometimes I hear something so absolutely ignorant and so fundamentally abhorrent that I have to speak up. And I talk until I bring the other person down and defeat them in every aspect of that horrible utterance. And then one of the following happens:

-They accept that their premise was wrong. (either truly, or just to shut me up and still save face, what is with people and saving face? If you are wrong and have been proven wrong..fess up and learn something instead of strutting around like a plucked peacock, jeez)

-They give me a ‘agree to disagree’. (the root of all my hatred)

-They successfully bring up some points that force me to reconsider. (respect)

-They give me a vague stupid twisted line which involves words like ‘Belief’ and ‘Everyone is like that’ or “This is what Life is” as if it is supposed to answer everything. Or sigh and look into the distance in a way that is supposed to be mysterious and deep as if they hold the secret of the Universe and it must not be uttered. (the Kantian spiritual mystics that will be mentioned by name in my suicide note)

-Or they attack me.

….not the topic, not the discussion, not the points…me. Instead of defending their baseless doctrine….They attack me.. pouncing at everything they can grab at. This part has always amazed me and is the most commonly observed scenario in my experience. The shouting, the frothing at the mouth, the personal remarks, the offenses taken…my God. What a spectacle. My mom does that too, although her counter arguments are ‘Because it is said so’ or ‘You are not old enough’ or ‘I am your Mother’. And then when I know that the argument is useless and stop talking….I get a whole lecture on morality and values. And the lips move and all I see is air coming out that means nothing. I can reduce it to ashes with one question but by that time..my head already feels sore and I am already bored.

Last night I was in my bed, cold and shivering, reading Rand…. I put the book down, closed my eyes and apologized to myself. I apologized for living in a delusional bubble all these years. For writing crap and believing in crap. I was sorry that I had wasted so much of my life believing the wrong things and pursuing the wrong purpose. I now have many of the answers to the questions that confused and wrecked me my entire adolescence. I am not saying they have made me ‘happier’ but they have saved me from the unnecessary torture that I wrongly..or maybe so rightly..termed ‘Sacrifice’. And to think I took pride in it. I do not blame my mother anymore, I do not have an inkling of resentment towards her or anyone else who influenced me as I was growing up. My choices. My mistakes. My faults.

But sometimes.. I want to stop them and ask…do you understand the full meaning of what you are saying? Why are you saying it if you do not understand it, if you cannot defend it the slightest? Do you understand what you are doing? Do you actually get it? Or are you copying someone who did it before you? Tell me why are you doing it? What do you want from it? What is the purpose of your existence? Do you know who you are? Did you try finding it? When? How?

…………………………………………..

 

When I was young and dumb..which was last Tuesday, I think =P I used to say that I was too ‘dead’ to love someone or be in love. And I named my lack of attraction a scar someone unnamed and unessential left me with. But I was wrong. Love is the epitome of personal values. And the reason I did not fall in love with you, you and you was not because I was frigid to your charm…it was because I was frigid to your values, your ideals and above all..your mind.

I am sorry. I should’ve known better.

emotional-intelligence

Prayer for tonight

wishing on a start by a window

I have a very heavy heart today. Right now, as I sit by my window and the wind blows through my incredibly wet hair, I feel a burden weighing me down. What do I tell you? I have no words you haven’t heard before.

 

Sometimes, the only way to move forward is to kill that part of you, remove the part so heavy. What a sad move. Little by little you cut away the gangrenous parts and what remains at the end…well I dread to think about it. The hard, callous shell of a person you used to be. How sad, how cliche.

The moon that usually shines right though my window is not around today. It is all dark and I am lying awake, hoping the wind would blow the load away, before another part of me dies, and dies again. Hoping I wouldn’t have to age for one night, wouldn’t have to disintegrate for one day.

So I close my eyes, remembering myself and everyone as I know right now. And I pray, with eyes tightly shut , that tomorrow as the sun shines onto me, I remain the same as I am today.

 
Amen

Standing Still

against the wind

I wonder how stubborn and rubbery some of us are. How truly incorrigible. Unbreakable, infinite. History comes and goes, time and again, repeating itself, punishing us for the same mistakes over and over and we still stand there. Tall as ever, been hit so many times but still alive; breathing, smiling, laughing.

It’s that permanent stage of deja vu. That ‘been there, done that’ situation that makes it impossible to savour a moment of peace or pain. How many times have you been in and out of a hospital, lugging around with your loved ones, putting on a brave face. How many times have you stood besides them and known that they were not gonna make it but you still hope that some miracle would save them, make them young again and take all the disease away from them. How many times have you stood in-front of the mirror, praying the same thing for yourself.

Well, I am in a waiting room myself. Again. Praying for another loved one, one that actually gave birth to me. Praying she makes it. Praying some miracle would come and suck all the pain and anger from her. Make her young again. Praying I had someone right now to sit besides, even silently so. Just to know someone is there. I don’t wanna hold hands, nor do I wish for a shoulder to lean on. I have no one to do so either, so that takes care of it.

And when she dies, and I’m hit again. I know I’d still be here. Alive. And I’ll laugh and smile and breathe too. And you’ll never know just what I’ve been through. Just like now.

 

Better left unsaid, better left unfelt

up in the air

I spent an hour writing..everything. Pouring my anger into my laptop and editing it and constructing all those sentences and blah blah blah blah and a second before I was going to hit send.. I just stopped. Not today. Not now.

Have you ever felt so consumed with anger and hatred and total helplessness that your hands tremble and your eyes blur? The bad part is..that like before..it doesn’t pass ! It stays ! Boring deep into you and threatening to reach the core and blast you to pieces, or it stays like a burning ulcer which you know will remain for a long time

And the night comes and you sleep, and when you wake up in the morning..it’s still not gone. That taste of venom and acid is still in your mouth..

It’s a first for me. The other day my friend said that my anger lasted twenty minutes, that when I wake up, I forget the very name of the person I had a quarrel with. And it is true. But this morning when I woke up, it didn’t feel that way. I wanted to hurt and claw at someone. Just so the fire would go. But it stayed, the entire morning, the entire noon and part of the evening

And then I saw the face of the person I was angry at. And then I saw that face for good ten minutes in my head..and suddenly it all went away. The burn, the fire. It just isn’t worth it. Normally I give up at these things because I do not have the stamina nor the time to hold grudges or fight with people anymore. But this time I let a thing go because I had lost all the feelings of friendship I ever had, all the concern from my heart. Why do we feel hurt? Because we care. Indifference is the worse form of hatred for me. I’d rather fight all day with a friend than feel nothing at all. And how sad it is ! But we all have it coming to us. There is a limit to which a person can be pushed. Once, twice, thrice..so many times

And now as I read again the thing I was going to post earlier, I burst out laughing. Oh come on ! Grow up! Life’s too short to waste on people who don’t matter and things that don’t count ! We all know that yet we insist on indulging in all the crap in the world. *groan*

I have a research paper to write, a room to clean, a mother to call, a friend to bark on, a book to read, a party to attend and a big exam to prepare for.

Backstabbers don’t get a share in my life for today

And as for tomorrow..

Oye vey..

flying with happiness

It’s just the strangest thing, I’ve seen your face somewhere…

poker face

I am tired to my bones running into the same kind of people every day and every night. Wherever I turn, I see the same faces, same pointless drivel flowing from their lips and it makes my stomach turn. I see them reading the same worthless books, quoting the same quotes, wearing the same expressions and saying the same things. And this afternoon I wanted to jump from the bus

Lord I don’t know where to turn to. I am going to be buried in work soon and the very idea of the workload is getting me into fits of panic..but I’ll get through it, like I always have. Whether this is the actual issue or whether something else is going on inside me.. I do not know. But the very idea of the plain brain washed puppets I live amongst.. it just makes me angry. I always have believed everyone is different, unique, that they all have their own wars to fight, own battles to win and plenty of fears to conquer..but give me something now. I have never called people around me any names. Never judged them, never expected anything, never really saw them. But when I try.. I don’t like what I see..

It has become so repetitive that it enrages the hell out of me. Same deceits, same devotion. same ideals, same rationalizations. This city that city. All the shows saying marriage stinks and divorce is inevitable, all the books saying religion is a false cover for horrors we bind ourselves in, parents demanding respect, teachers claiming it as their right, patients cursing doctors, doctors cursing patients, same menu in the hostel mess for four years, riding the same bus, looking at the same people..loving and cheating and hating and lying…

I’ve taken breaks. From God, from friends, from books, from tv, from internet..once, twice..so many times. They all return and they all make me toss my lunch. Give me something ! Give me something that’ll make me turn towards you and see your face and know that I haven’t seen you before, in all those crowds and in all those cities. Show me something I haven’t seen before, tell me something I haven’t heard yet. Amaze me. Make me fall in love. Make me coil in hatred.

Do something..

tired sticky note

 

(Title: ‘Do You Know Me by John Mayer)

Tale of Calamine Lotion and Quiana

calamine-lotion

I live next door to a beautiful paranoid brainiac. So the tale goes this way that she had a mild skin reaction on her neck. It was mild at first, but then it turned into this monster that attacked parts of her face. Next thing we know, there are screams and paranoia everywhere =D

We all love her, the entire corridor, btw  (in case she reads this post and something offends her and kills me in the middle of the night). So she went to see this doctor at the hospital.

Being popular does a weird thing to people. So does money. And if you have both of them..boy, it is a disaster. So he prescribed him a measly Calamine lotion without proper checkup. And let me remind you again, our exams are close and this dermatitis was really getting on Quiana’s nerves and..on mine too =D (again, I love you Q)

So. Week went by, but the doctor said..no..no… Calamine is the way to go. For those who do not know, Calamine and zinc oxide lotion is commonly used to relieve pain and itching from poison ivy, poison oak, poison sumac, sunburns, rashes, and insect bites. Calamine and zinc oxide also helps dry oozing and weeping caused from ivy, oak, and sumac poisons.

Where the hell would our Quiana get hold of poison oak and ivy? The girl is the sweetest person alive with no general attraction towards leaning on trees and smelling grass =_=

And Quiana’s neck got worse. And boy,were we angry at the doctor

So..at last, when Quiana could take it no longer and the rash had now spread all across, toward her shoulders and a bit south (I’m guessing), she decided to visit a private clinic and viola.. a pile of money, half an hour and bucket full of ointments and drugs and two days later.. The rash almost disappeared and Quiana lived happily ever after

And the whole incident..just brought me down. I am not saying I doubt the medical opinion of docs and that I know more, I just hated myself for that one moment when I thought I might become that doctor one day..and I might have a bunch of people hating me for not caring and wasting all this study and resources for…nothing. Nothing. I do not wanna work in a private clinic (no matter what my parents say) I wanna work at a decent Government hospital. But I do not wanna become one of those people who lose the good decent stuff in them as money and fame comes and time passes.

The End

not interested throwing papers in the air

Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.

fire away

It runs through my veins like blazing molten lava. I can feel it coursing through my vessels and burning my fingertips. I can feel it melt my bones and disconnect the tendons, with muscles snapping like rubber bands. It feels so real, and it has the power to reduce me to the shadow of the person I was. It hits me so hard and so deep that all I can see is fire, all I can say is venom and all I taste is that metallic edge of blood in my mouth. The fire roars and threatens to reduce everything to ash and smoke

Next time, I am just gonna to let it

 

 

“We can try to avoid making bad choices by doing nothing, but even that is a decision.”

Oh God.. I have made a lot of bad choices in my life. I have taken a lot of bad decisions. Sometimes it suddenly hits you in the face, and it hits you hard.. Why do I wanna change when I am what I am? Why do I wanna run away for people who don’t give squat? Why should I leave everything I have worked for and just try to find meaning in new things? This is what I am. I write sad I talk funny I draw bad and I run slow. Literally hundreds of people think this way and I feel like a flying lost shopping bag

I tried to give up writing..failed horribly. Gave up blogging. Then couldn’t live with the irritation. Tried to start it again..but you can’t make them same start-overs twice. We all get stuck sometimes. In that same monotonous babble of of our lives. But it’s all okay. Sometimes you need to feel all those small bumps to get back on track and do something. I can never sit still. I always have to do something

Sometimes Nature shows us the way, gives us things to choose from. Sometimes we find those ways ourselves. Roads less taken or not..every path leads somewhere. Every road has it’s bumps. Every writer goes through writers block and every house has bugs.

Faboo =D

Oggy-and-The-Cockroaches-Season-4-Wallpaper

 

 

 

May the man be dammed and grow fat, the one who wears two faces under one hat

Seriously speaking, I am not a resentful person. I might not forget things but if a person talks to me in a good way once after being foul a thousand times, I reciprocate with thrice the politeness. I have changed a lot but I haven’t become a really bad person, as yet. Foul mouthed bitter straightforward wacko…yes.. but not bad. I pray that doesn’t happen (btw)

But people will not fail to amaze me. And once again I bang my head on the wall. My instincts..are always correct. My first decisions and perceptions..are always true. Believe me.. I don’t like to flatter myself but the term always is heavily applicable.

But why do I go wrong time and again?

I give them a chance
….they blow it

Double faced chance

It’s a muddled up head I have up here

If you deny or ignore something for so long it starts to feel true and gets incorporated in yourself. Just start pushing all them limits and your mind will start making excuses for you. We all justify doing what we do and then time comes..we don’t even need that call from the inside

And I’m tired and angry and tired. There are not many things left in the world that I care about and that scares me. I don’t care if my grades go down, I don’t care if my dress is stained, I don’t care if I look like an idiot in these trousers. I don’t care if there is stuff going on in college, at my place, back in my home. If I have friends if I don’t. It just doesn’t matter. I get up. Go around the world. Come back. Stair at the walls. Yada yada yada

What I do is, I don’t talk about what’s bothering me. I don’t write about what’s bothering me. And couple of days ago.. I blew at something some friend did. It crossed the limits of my tolerance. And I was at loss. Talk to whom? I didn’t wanna talk to anyone closer. I can’t. I called up my neighbour four years back and I blew up on the phone.

And all I know is lets just.. get up and go on. It doesn’t matter what I do or what I become. Being virtual is a cross I have to bear.

Afterall it was my choice

The book theif