Friday, March 5, 2010

Templates and things

Ok, I have a new template. I'm not sure how it all works yet, some links are there and accomplish nothing. I'm going to have to figure that shit out before I lose my mind worrying over it!

Now, purpose of this post. I'm angry. I'm not sure why, but something has seriously pissed me off and it bothers me that I can't tell you why. I mean, you have to have a reason for things to happen right? Right? I have none for mine.

Part of my temper loss is also the fact that I cant put my finger on the exact nature of my problem. I think it is because of the shit tank that is the human ego. I've had to come face-to-face with it so often lately that I want to tell everyone to go and die some place. Just collectively end it so I can live in peace! Selfish I know, but the thing is that someone is thinking the exact same thing about me too. So, that sorts that out. I hope!

I read a blog post recently, and that seriously disturbed me. I follow this person's blog and I love what he has to say. The insight and the clarity that I read in his posts keep me going back to read more. But after this particular post, I find that I'm forced to think about things. Things that you know you won't ever tell anyone, but things that exist. They are tangible and real, for you at least. The trouble is, you can't tell what it is. I know that in Chennai, I don't have the luxury of going to a doctor's office alone and wait in the room where people are wondering if I'm insane or if I'm pregnant or some thing worse. I can't handle that kind of mental, internal paranoia. Unfortunately for me, I'm not engineered to cope with a gaze that is acutely speculative and that will infer information about me that is too far off the mark.

That being said, there have been days when I've wondered if I could go on. This happened very pronouncedly at two instances in my life, once when I was in Delhi at IIMC and once when I was doing my masters at Madras University. Both times, I lived in the dark, didn't step out of my room until I had to, went back, couldn't bring myself to do anything but curl up in a ball and wonder why I was where I was. I was forced to step out and socialise because I needed to get my degree, which I barely managed and I left Delhi. Somehow, after an entire term of living like that, the only thing on my mind was to get out of my hostel room and go to a place where the walls I was inside were not around me. And then, university.

The two years of my life doing my masters were hell, pure and simple. I was in a relationship that I thought was perfect. I spent a lot of 6ams of that relationship crying into the phone. I can't remember why. After that went down the toilet, my ex and now friend exchanged a plethora of niceties, I stopped. Just stopped. I did nothing most days, just the bare minimum. Slept a lot, ate. Skipped class. The same darkness and the same purposeless moving of day to day ness. My mother found out that I was sitting at home an entire month and she was mad as hell. The first argument she came up with, not what's happening with you, not I hope everything is alright, just what will you do when you get married. This, ladies and gentleman, is an educated woman who now runs a school. After that delightful conversation, I went back to class. Not sure why, but I did. I hated the place. Hated the shit they were passing off as an education. Hated that I had to deal with lower grades while a bunch of people who couldn't speak/read English very well were topping class, getting university ranks and the like. These beauties of humanity would go out and buy guides with set answers that they would all write word for word. While my friend and I discussed at length about the things that we read and so on. I don't value my masters degree in the least, it is just a qualification I own that makes me seem important!

After that, it was another 6 months of do nothing until I found a job. But man, I sometimes wonder how I made it. I wonder why I didn't succumb to life and the unbearale heaviness of being (sorry Milan Kundera) like my best friend Bhuvaneshwari did. Sometimes I'm glad I didn't, but there are days when the delayed reaction syndrome hits me and I wonder why I'm still around...



  1.'s never as bad as it seems...we all are on the same sea...floating in our individual boats of despair...but the same sea!! and surely we will pass this sea & meet the wide blue happy ocean...

    I'm as confused as I sound! :-p