So,

First: I fall asleep with my contacts on because I hadn't slept much last night and was ill.

Second: I didn't even know I'd done (First) until two hours after having woken up, I rub my eyes to find something on my hand.

Third: I finally realize what had happened, dig into my other eye to find the other lens, turn up with nothing.

Fourth: I DO find it after an hour, but it had dried up. And because it was due to be replaced, tore.

Five: After five minutes of contact lens tearing, my only pair of spectacles snap into two. Just like that.

An exam-like thing tomorrow, nothing to see with, and they weren't reading glasses so I'm practically blind.

Me thinks bad things are to happen. And this is how I won't be able to see them happen. Unless of course these bad things plan to stick themselves in my face.

Can't wait!

I detest people who don't know how to say thank you. If I'm having one of those happier days, I only feel sorry for such people, but on days like today- let's just say I'm not a person with violent tendencies but when you given up your seat for someone carrying a child in a crowded bus, the futility of doing a good deed angers me.

Don't get me wrong. I don't want an award or for my picture to be in the newspaper for Samaritan-Of-the-Week, but the least you could do is say thank you.

Or when people take stuff from you and return it all battered and abused, without even the slightest of acknowledgments.

For any politician that I come across in my life, I have only two words- Fuck you. vans and trucks full of hooligans drove on the streets of Chennai yesterday because supporters of some politician were gathering at Marina to celebrate his something. We, the ones not in these vans, were in turn treated to loud blaring music, rambunctious dances and cheering and traffic jams so long that most of us just abandoned our vehicles and took to walking to get to places in time.

Where these cars and vans stopped in the middle of roads, ardent fans got off and relieved themselves on the roadside. Cheering increased when a girl was in sight. Driving became rasher as the urge to compete with one another grew.

And I was ready to commit murder.

On that extremely positive note, I leave you to enjoy your Sunday.

SG.

First, I don't send the form within the stipulated time. I have to call them up to ask what can be done and they calmly tell me that it's ok and I should send it as soon as possible.

Second, I paid for admission to one program when I could have applied for two. So, I call them up to ask if I can pay extra now or something, and they say no.

Third, I lose the envelope I'm supposed to send the filled up form in. I have to call them up, again, and ask them what to do about that.

Fourth, yes, there's more. I just glance through the filled up form and find that the branch and code of the bank where the money was paid was filled up wrong. So, I have to call them up, AGAIN, and am told to write and send an apology letter with the form.

I'd better be getting in there after all this.

Photo By: Drew Tedlock

So, I have exactly three days to go before I sit for my "placements". Three days and an hour to be precise. Which, I find comfort in being, considering that it adds a whole hour to the time I have left before the biggest debacle of this year, in my life.

Sigh.

Yes, like you can see, I'm freaking out. And this is when I'm sitting for a job, that I don't even want. I mean, I want it in the sense that I want to get accepted. I don't want it in the sense that I don't intend on ever joining there unless of course CAT is the second biggest debacle of my life (not this year) and I have to write GMAT which won't turn out to be the third biggest debacle of my life (and the third of the year) which would require me to have worked for at least two years before applying for an MBA. Which would be worth anything only if my score meant getting into the top 5 universities.

Which, I'm sure, you all know, how capable and deserving I consider myself to be of. Bad things come in three's right? Well, here's the perfect opportunity. I think I'll palpitate to death before Monday even comes.

Fact is, even while I love the subjects that I've put under my "Areas of Interest", I remember surprisingly little of the minute details, WHICH is what the interviewer will ask of me. IF I get to the interview round, which looks nice and tough because the written has its set of technical questions too. And best part is, section wise cut offs. Yay me, if I haven't said it before.

Which is followed by a GD (this is where they throw out like 60% of the short listed candidates), after which will come two rounds of interviews. And while the technical part is scaring me, the HR is scaring me even more!

*deep breath*

*deep breath*

*deep breath*

I've got to get back to my books. Have yourselves a pleasant weekend!

All my love.

Yes, another template change. That one was WAY too colorful and "flowery" for my tastes. Plus I think it's high time I stopped trying to "cheer things up" and accept what everyone is accepting. Sad part is that even as I say it, I don't want to give up or give in or both. I want to do it right. Get it done. Close doors to the past. Embrace the future. Fly on a cloud.

"Our lives begin to end the day we start keeping silent about things that matter."

Does it really? Begin to end that day? What about the day, when you've bled yourself dry TELLING people about things that really matter, and STILL see no sign of acknowledgement or change?

When do parents stop listening? When do they start filtering so that they hear just what they like? When even laying things down like they are, crying your heart out in front of them bring out no

I've cried.

I've yelled.

I've put into words everything YOU were supposed to have seen for yourself. That you should have gathered by reading between the lines. That you should have heard, when I was trying to talk. I made it easier for you, I spelt it out. Not once, not twice, not a hundred- but at least ten times.

And still you continue to ignore the fact that there IS something wrong. I know, that there is. I even know WHAT it is. But somehow, you seem to think that it's all a figment of my over active imagination- even after you've seen the pain written on my face.

You haven't even TRIED to change your ways. You haven't tried to lessen the burden that I carry. You haven't started talking more, snipping less. You haven't started sharing more, complaining less. You haven't started letting me live more, letting yourself live more.

Every self derogatory remark you've passed- I've considered my responsibility. I've even made it my business to see that you don't have to ever repeat it. What about the ones I've made about myself? What have you done with those?

I've had to sit and write letters to you, so that you could KNOW what I really had to say. WHY I was doing what I was doing. WHY I wasn't doing what I wasn't doing. HOW I realized what I wanted to do.

At first I thought it was all in my head. That reading too many books, had imprinted on my mind what "happily ever after" would look like. But as I've grown, I've realized that everyone has their own versions of "happily ever after". There are no definite s. And hence, when you never asked what I wanted from life, when you never asked why I wanted what I did want; what made me choose one value over another; what made me choose the design for the kitchen I wanted in my dream house- I figured it was okay. I wondered. I hoped that you would ask, yes. But I also made excuses for you.

The other day, when my aunt asked me what my house would look like, when she actually listened to it, and told me that I would not only have all of that, but more, something in me died. Another part of me died.

And still, instead of blaming you, or cursing you, I sit here hating myself for even actually putting all of this down on paper, even as I do. With every word that I type, I'm making excuses for you. Justifying your actions. Telling myself, that you are just different parents. Everyone is different.

Should I be doing that? Should I, a twenty year old, be doing that? Should I, a twenty year old, have been doing that for the better part of my life?

I don't know what an achievement feels like. I don't know what a million other feelings, that I should have felt by now, feel like. I know what they are SUPPOSED to feel like, but I haven't felt them.

Don't get me wrong. I've felt happiness, yes. But not at the usual you-bought-me-an-ipod for my birthday happiness, as you would expect a normal child to feel. I've felt happy on the odd day that you both have spoken to each other. I've felt happy and safe on the odd day that I've walked into your room in the morning, to see you two snuggled up together. On the odd occasion that I've seen you poke fun at each other.

Do you see where all this is wrong? Do you see a twenty year old anywhere in all of this? No, I didn't think so.

I'm NOT supposed to ACCOMODATE your feelings, YOU are supposed to accomodate MINE. I'm NOT supposed to be watching my words, YOU are supposed to be watching yours- to protect me. You are supposed to be protecting me from getting hurt, instead of the other way.

-----------------------

It seems important to get all of this down on paper once and for all- because unless I'm using my hands to key in what the voices in my head are saying, I'm suffocating. I've tried. I've tried a million times to be fair to you- and not give words to what these voices are saying- because it would seem almost like I'm disrespecting you, or what you stand for. I'm not.

But if you really are the roles that you have been given to play, then you will understand why this was necessary. I love you. I just wish I didn't have to act grown up all the time.

The sun was setting. Finally. Soon it would be dark all around. Safe. Familiar. The only time in the day the noises seemed to almost cease, were at this time. For the barest of minutes. But they did. When the sky was changing colors from glaringly bright to something that enveloped you gladly. Something that settled around you, surrounded you. So much so that, it almost contained you. And you it.

She could hear the breeze. The birds going back to their nests. The traffic. She could hear all of it. But they’d be back again. The peace lasted for only a while. The voices would be back to torment soon.

Really? What makes you think your good? You think they really like you? Hahahahaha, your so naïve.

Think. The horn honking below on the street. The ice cream vendors bell. The aeroplane flying above. What else, what else? Think of something quick. Keep them away. Think of something good, anything…

Have you looked at yourself? I never liked you for your looks. No chance.

Something. Please, oh please. Not already. Anything. Anythi…

What bullshit. Remember that thing you were going to start this summer? That social service thing? What happened to that? I was supposed to help you, na?

It was back. His voice. She’d done the best she could by him. Everything she could. But the words he’d said were back. He'd said sorry later on. She’d listened. Just shut up and listened. From begining to end. To every word. Or so it seemed. They seemed to be etched to memory. The scorn, the anger… etched to the heart.

You know what she is? She is perfect. She’s beautiful, she respects me and she is the best. The only reason I’m talking to you, is because she wants me to.

No no no. Make them stop. Please… Not already. Think. Think harder. Sheep. Stars. Something. Coffee. Mom. Dad.… There were tears sliding down her cheeks by now.

You think your popular? That that guy really liked you? Are you nuts?

It was over. The silence. The peace. There was no point fighting. Nothing would come of pleading. There wasn’t anyone to listen her, was there?

You’re a terrible person. You’re a loser. I felt sorry for you. That’s why I stayed.

She looked up, as if expecting an answer… There were stars sprinkled across the sky now… a sight that would make even the most defeated person feel a slight tinge of what she’d always thought could only be called magic.

It only lasted for a moment. It was an illusion. ‘Didn’t even last long enough to lull a person into false security. Something was trying to squeezing her insides… the pain was unbearable.

She felt a shiver pass through her. It made her shake even harder.

God save people from best friend s like you.

She let it.

I've always considered myself above hate, so far. The closest i've come to hating is, hating brinjals and silences. Brinjals, 'cuz well, they are brinjals and silences 'cuz they scare me. Other than that... I've never HATED someone.

I never thought I hated anyone. Past tense. Long passed, past.

I do. I hate the fact that I gave you the right to hurt me. I hate the fact that I told you what would hurt me. And you did. You do. And you know it. I hate me for hurting.

I hate that I shared my dreams with you, when all you could do was mock at them. I hate that it made me feel small. I hate that I let me feel small.

I hate that you made me feel like a looser, at times. That when you said it, even in anger, I let it pierce through, and hurt.

I hate you for making me cry myself to sleep every night, when you didn't shed a tear. I hate me, for being weak.

I hate you, 'cuz I can't ask you to fuck off, get lost, the way you did to me. I won't do it. I hate that I can't. Won't. 'Cuz I'm weak.

I hate you for taking me for granted. I hate me for letting you know, realise, that I'd really be there, no matter what. And you did that "what". I stayed.

I hate you for not understanding me. For never taking the effort to read in between the lines. I hate me, for expecting you to.

I hate you for knowing, and still doing it. I hate you for turning out just like another "somebody". I hate me for expecting it. Almost wanting it after a point, so that we could get it out of the way. 'Cuz more than knowing it was hurting me, I knew it wasn't good for you.

I hate that you don't realise, understand, comprehend, what I did for you... I don't want a nobel prize, but I wanted you to at least acknowledge it. I hate me for expecting something in return. Because then, that's not true friendship.

I hate you, 'cuz when I ruined myself just so your worst fears wouldn't realise, you made mine come true. I hate that now i'm left to pick the even more shattered, scattered pieces, alone... while you aren't. And don't give a damn.

Fooled ya, didn't I? Hell I f***ing fooled myself. Had to say it aloud. To accept it.

I don't know if it's really HATE, hate... I don't feel anger, towards anyone but myself. I just feel... sad at times, you know? Feel like bawling my eyes out... Crazy.. you hate something like that to? Or is it just me?

Sometimes, you hear something or read something, and everything just fits into place. It's like... it was always there, somewhere at the back of your head, and wham one day, it comes up front and blinks like a neon sign, you couldn't NOT notice. At times it's nice stuff... a happy memory, a sthupit song, an old friend.. anything and at others it's.. just stuff, I guess.

I walked far enough to make you sit still. And just like that, in one sentence, this person had managed to describe the last two years of my life. Just like that. And true it is, to the full stop. I hate absolutely hate people who walk out, don't keep promises... and I promised myself I would never do that to anyone. I haven't so far. Anyway, back to the point. There are two reasons for me not wanting to do that to anyone.

One, the noble crap. Friends forever, will be there for you always and the likes. I see too much. And the fact that it would hurt the other person, no matter how small a part of my life he/she is, is enough to stop me. There's enough suffering in this world, without me adding to it :)

The other being, just to show the person up. Clicking two. And how true it is. Often I'd wonder why I was being so stubborn. What exactly were my reasons? What was making me stay put? Me being me just wouldn't accept it to be ONLY 'cuz it was what friends/girl friends/sisters/blah did... it kept nagging me.

Another thing that bothered me was when suddenly for certain reasons parts of who I was, why I was and why I am what I am came back. Okie that didn't make sense. It's just that sometimes (again) in other people s lives you find a part of your past. And because you don't want the other person to have it as terribly as you did, you start looking for reasons, explainations, theories and answers so that you can help. That's what I did. I tried.

Until the other day, when it all started making sense. It always did make sense, but now it was concrete. Definite. Being as human as we are, we have a lot to feel guilty for. And that makes us seek out pain. Pain, sacrifice, suffering helps us find peace. Salvation.

It's in our daily lives, in our hidden suffering, in the sacrifices we make, blaming love for the destruction of our dreams. That's why I'm telling you: dont' get used to it, because it's very easy to become habituated; it's a very powerfull drug. Pain is frightening when it shows its real face, but it's seductive when it comes disguised as sacrifice or self-denial. or cowardice. however much we may reject it, we huma beings always find a way of being with pain, of flirting with it and making it part of our lives.

True, no one wants to suffer, and yet nearly everyone seeks out pain and sacrifice, and then they feel pure, deserving of the respect of their children, husbands, neighbors, God. Don't let's think about that now, all you need to know is that what make the world go around is not the search for pleasure but the renuniciation of all that is important.

Does the soldier go to war in order to kill the enemy? No. He goes in order to die for his country. Does a wife want to show he husband she's happy? No. She wants him to see how devoted she is, how she suffers in order to make him happy. Does a working man go to work every morning to achieve satisfcation? No. He does it to sweat his butt off so that he can keep his family. And so it goes on, sons give up their dreams to please parents, parents give up their lives in order to plese their childrean, pain and suffering are used to justify the one thing that should bring only joy:love.

And I dunno where I'm going with this, except that, I just needed to say all this aloud. At least in my head. If you enjoy being miserable, then stop and start looking at what exactly you are doing to yourself.

Sure, you've made mistakes, big ones and small ones, sometimes they ruin lives, sometimes they ruin your life, they hurt the people you love most, but it isn't the end of the world. Forgive yourself, and make it up, not by suffering, but by loving. Yourself, the people around you, and your life.

And no matter what you do, don't do it to prove anything to anyone, do it cuz you know in your heart, that it's the right thing to do. Actually, scratch that. I'm not too sure it works. What I am sure is, that suffering is not the solution. It's temporary peace, that will lead to insanity. And cuz it's not only the tough way out, it's also the only way out.

Lotsaluv,
Yours forever sthupitly.

P.S : Project work is over, nonsense teacher didn't even look at it. Apparently, I'd said I'd done it, and that was enough. Work on the behalf of 4 people, work that was meant to be done for the entire sem, I did, alone, in 4 days. Anyway, that's me being made a fool of again, for being "sincere".

P.P.S: Yes, I'm totally, completely insane. It's been verified, attested and hence confirmed.