Sunday, September 30, 2012

Rescuing myself

I was pretty sure I would be single for a very, very long time. I had started saving up money for my own house. I had already saving for a house which would cost me about 18 lakhs. I was getting there slowly but surely. But life is just a notion. Ideas and plans, they are just like showcase pieces you talk about and admire from afar but you never get around to using it because it is far too pretty to be used. You get accustomed to the being that it is just there to look at and be comforted with.

Yesterday, I did a silly thing. For the past few weeks, I have been traveling on a particularly rocky road with a steep gradient but I had been toiling somehow. Out of sheer need to prove to everyone I am anything but a person who just dies at the effortless pull of the string around my neck. I wish I wasn't so proud and stubborn. Those two words, they are of binary attributes. It is almost a rocking chair. Stubbornness and pride can play well to get certain factors into your  margin but if not used carefully, in the reality of life, it is damaging, degrading and ignominious to the core of your soul.

And so it happened. The micro I was on was inhumanely packed. Don't even ask me when I still squeezed in. I am the weird one here, I actually like it in a challenge kind of a way until I am smelling someone's body odor or I have my ass pressed against the erection of a dirty man. I don't mind it if I can save on cab fares which almost always eats up a quarter of my salary. (Note: I take a cab at least 25 times a month. Do the maths on how much I earn.) So I shall continue. I boarded the micro with two bags, one with my wallet, phone and iPad and the other one with my laptop. I quickly threw the laptop bag to the first person's head I saw and then went on to clinging for my life on one of those hanging bars. It's an adventure in itself, trust me. More passengers came in and then, I had the urgency to puke badly. My body temperature wasn't on the safe side. I was about to burst into tiny atoms. I prayed I would reach my destination fast. I was in such desperation that I alighted one stop before just to breathe fresh air and not the musky air of crowding men who obviously hadn't showered in days. I quickly handed in Rs. 15 to the conductor and rushed home with the wind on my back, free as a bird. That was around 5.45pm.

It was about 8.30 at night when I came to my full senses. That is really how dumb I am. I was about to take out my laptop to start working on a due-tomorrow article. I had the audacity to believe it was right at the edge of my bed, as it always lands on the moment I take it off my shoulder. I couldn't find it. I had left it behind, with some stranger's head I couldn't recall. Was it a he or she? Curly hair or straight? White or black, maybe all black because I wouldn't have thrown my laptop to an old person, simply out of respect. That is when I saw my crumbling soul. My life, the life I had never anticipated. I was falling apart, my life was detaching from me and I, from my life. I was going in circles, carefully holding onto the thread so it doesn't strangle me. I was almost there, trying to rescue myself and then, snap. I woke up. I needed no rescuing.

I am notoriously stubborn and proud. It is two ugly trades of mine my dad always warns me about. I couldn't say no to what I was asked to do. If I could have, I would. Nobody understands that I don't really have a choice here. I do what I have to do, hating every frail cell of mine and praising every enduring cell. If I could have my way, I would have bitch-slapped the person. I can't. Just like you don't play with fire, you don't mess with a human being who has no dignity and respect for another human being. It's just going to be yet another war, a war that you will lose in the end because they are the most dangerous kind of person, the person who doesn't think twice about using another people. You can't ignore them because they are always there, you can't speak up for yourself because they are always there with a scary glare. Maybe, I am just scared of this bitch, but whatever.

I am the picture perfect example of exhaustion. Longer time at work. More chores at home. Lesser snooze time. I don't remember what it feels like to sleep until 6am, my body automatically wakes up once the clock strikes 4. It doesn't matter how tired I am, where I am and what my day has been and is going to be like. That is how screwed my life is, really. All because I made a decision on impulsion. The worst part of it all, I have kind of have wrapped my mind around it and gotten used to it because it is what it is. I can't turn back clocks, I can't undo mistakes, I can't stand up for my rights to have a good rest, I can't break hearts and I can't run away. In a way, it is sick. In more than a way, I hate myself. What happens when no matter where you turn, you don't get a break from stress and tension, you fall apart and that is exactly what happened. One escapes to somewhere, I have no escape. It's only a wonder why I am a hardcore enthusiast of escapism. I was not troubled and in tears because I lost my laptop and all my documents. I was a convulsion of a breaking soul because I had no idea how fucked up I had become and yet, I still pushed myself on. Just to prove someone who sleeps like a log I am better than her.

Life is not a competition, I have realized, especially when it comes to competing with a person who is maliciously making me compete with my own inner strength. When life gets a little too tough, you don't fight on. Sometimes, you just take a back seat and breathe, breathe like it is the smell of roses in the air and like its winter mornings. I have once written a line, "When the going gets tough, so do you." You don't. I didn't. I was at the verge of a system breakdown. I was murdering myself. I was the sole puller of the thread around my neck. I was my own decider of my fate. The end of the thread in my hand, not in someone else's hands, and the noose around my neck. I was just tripping on my own tricks. I was doing it all to myself. I was letting her do it all to me. She was doing nothing to me except enjoying the way and the harsh fact that I was willingly letting her take more than a full hundred percent advantage of me. It was all me in the end. And that is how she won. I didn't win the war. Yes, it is still about winning and losing for me mostly at this point, especially at this point.

I gave up yesterday. I give up on pleasing the people around me. I always firmly stood by my rules to make myself happy first and then, the world comes in. I forgot my own principle as I try to manage juggling two different, absolutely challenging, energy draining and exhilarating roles. Even the Prime Minister, the man who runs a whole country sleeps and gives his brain and his body a break. I run a tiny country, so tiny, it can't be seen even from where you are seated. I was but a dog, nothing else. Even a dog knows when to stop. When I was a young girl, my greatest dream was to grow up and be old. Be an adult, have the world balanced nicely on my pinkie finger and have the time of my life. Falling in love, getting married and having babies were never in plan. What was in plan though, was a successful career and a hot live-in boyfriend.

P.s: I found my laptop. I always knew I would find it. I have that much trust in my people. 



Saturday, September 29, 2012

Letter to my hypothetical gay son

Dear hypothetical gay son,

Right now, you are just an ovule in me and a sperm in daddy but daddy and I have been talking a lot about you and who you are. While daddy isn’t too amused to be a father to a gay son, he says he will love you no less than he would love his straight son but he also thinks if his son is born a gay, it is because of his karmic action and I get a little hurt he thinks that way because who you are is not a result because of some bad fusion of consequences, who you are is a beautiful fusion of your daddy and I.  Daddy will get that notion in his head soon and I hope you will never blame anyone, not even God for who you are because if you do, trust me love, I will slap the living light out of you.

We are still in the world of hypocritical people who are just going with the crowd of saying ‘yes’ to same-sex lovers but when they open their shielded mask at the end of the day they will make you feel vastly different from everyone. The world in which your very own grandparents might just walk out a room whenever you are around and your siblings might wish you were not different because they get teased for the ‘mistake’ in your genetic structure. Your friends might not want to share a drink with you because they think they might get HIV. Yes love, I forgot to add in, they are not much of an intelligent and open-minded crowd but that is the situation in the year 2012; gay marriages are not fully legalized. It is not even okay to say it is partially legalized. The people just don’t get it. I will be truthful, ever since I have known your daddy and thought I would get married to him, one of the reasoning I used against him to get me a beautiful ring was that our future daughter-in-law would get proposed to with the same ring he gave to me. I am sorry I thought you would marry a lady. I am sorry I thought of all the times the wife would complain to you about the monster in-law I could be. I am so excited to meet your boyfriend, I swear I won’t make you look like a fool and show your naked pictures as a baby to him the first time you bring him home for dinner. I will do it the second time. I am also very excited to rate men on the streets with your sister and you over a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter afternoon.

I could keep you safe under my mothering wings if I have to but I don’t want to. I would fight all the ugly people with ugly thoughts and I would like to fight them all with you, your daddy and siblings. I would bring war right to the doorstep of all those against you, those who refuses to let you marry whomever you deem suits you perfectly and if they still don’t accept you, love, let it be. You don’t owe them a living. I might flip them a finger but I will let it be, too. If they can’t accept reality then we’re better off not caring for their existence! Sure, I might not be able to ever hold my own biological grandchild and I know as a parent, as a friend, and as a person I will fail you a lot of times but no one taught me how to be a mother to a gay son, if being just a mother at all to a vulnerable, dependent straight child is not enough. There will come times as we are discovering you when I might not understand why you rather play with your sister’s toys or why you would want to go shopping with me instead of going on a hike with your daddy but my darling son, I will accept you as you are with little struggles on the way. I hope you will understand.  Actually, the term gay and homosexual doesn’t even matter to me. Hand to heart, you are my baby whatever way anyone puts it. Your sexual orientation does not matter to me one bit as much as it should and I will always be fighting for your rights – whatever they might be; your right to have ice creams when you are sick, your right to go clubbing, your right to fall headless in love, your right to have an untidy room once in a while and your right to marry the man of your dreams. I can imagine you and your future husband in well-cut tuxedos getting married before a group of our family and friends. I see the gleaming smiles on everybody’s faces and I see the two of you so delighted in finding each other as you promise each other an eternity of love, truth and happiness and if you and your partner decide to have children through a surrogate mother or through adoption or all those fancy science things that your time might bring, your children could possibly take some time adjusting to the ‘normality’ the society has created but it will turn out fine in the end,  we will make it a point and this, I promise you.

I don’t care for what the rest of the world thinks of you and you shouldn’t too. While there are people who will love you for who you are and acknowledge your unique identity, there are bound to be people sneering at you if you hold another man’s hand. People will call you hurtful things, people will bully you and steal your lunch to give it to the dogs because they won’t dare to eat it themselves and they might lock you up in the toilet after school. People will still be giving you and your boyfriend odd looks when you decide to kiss him while waiting for the red light to turn green because he said something sweet. Or when you go furniture shopping for the house you both are sharing mortgage for. There is a piercing pain in my heart just imaging and writing about the things you might and will be put under and I want to rescue you, I kind of want you to be ’straight’ now if only for my weakness to see you not suffer but love, don’t give them a reason to bring you down, please don’t, it will just break my heart to witness how pathetic a man we have bought up to get affected by the judgmental eyes of those that doesn’t matter. It will most definitely not be easy to be gay even in the time you will enter into, I am afraid, even with the increasing throngs of people getting more supportive of the rainbow community every day, but Daddy and I will teach you to be a brave man, a man who will be his own man. All we want is for the best for you and for you to lead a normal life as your siblings, classmates and friends. Remember love, we are always here for you if you need a little cheer-me-up or a time-out when all you want to do is bake cupcakes and eat them and you can go to the gym with daddy after that sinful session.  

Hugs, mummy x

Note: As published in the September'12 issue of Living magazine. 

Friday, September 7, 2012

The bliss of 'me' time

I have a rewarding job that meets my obsessive needs to have a lot of things under my control, not one but two adoring families rolled into one and a lover who doesn't seem to mind my eccentricity and I know I am perhaps one of the luckiest girl but I probably haven't quite realised that yet because here I am, alone in a cafe with just a barista who made me a cup of terrible tasting Americano or maybe it is the coffee beans they are using. I desperately needed a 'me' time. Maybe, I was a little premature in writing that line because in comes a showy crowd. I suppose they have shares in the cafe because they are causing quite a ruckus and the ceaseless horn blaring in the nearby traffic in my ears is not making my near nirvana experience that much delightful. I am only this (the space in between my words) close to rolling my eyes at them and plugging ear phones into my ears when I just want to surround myself in the beauty of written words. If there is one thing I disagree with our Nepali being, we can get extremely ostentatious when it really doesn't matter. I mean look at all the women, especially the married, plying the streets of Kathmandu, at least 99% has a string of gold chain across their neck - doesn't matter again, if it is fake or real, hopefully genuine.

So I woke up in the morning, still basking in the afterglow of a good night's sleep, to two Viber texts, one from my supervisor saying I should "Take rest" and that was that. Viber is the best App ever and I have the best boss ever, too. I did my duties as a daughter-in-law, well, I rushed through most parts. Viber-ed with my gentleman and got dressed up in my most comfortable stretchable leggings, a cute dress with bicycle prints around and splashed a red hue around my lips, not caring that it wasn't perfectly lined to the shape of my mouth and I went running for the micro to take me all the way to RNAC.

From there, I just grabbed the handle of the first "saafa" tempo in sight and sat my bum on its worn out seats, hoping to get lost and then be found in a place I have never been to but my heart took a downpour as the tempo swerved right into Kamaladi. I knew where I was going to - there goes my element of mystery! I walked right into a line of damaged roads, passed by college-going couples coming out of the cinema and I smiled at everyone of them and every other young and old couple on the road I saw holding hands (yes people belonging to outer iissshpace, couples holds hands openly nowadays) as my cat-eyed purple-pink shaded eye glasses hobbled around my imaginary nose bridge and my prominent cheekbones. I don't care if they thought I was out of my fucking mind and that I am way too colorful today because nothing can ruin my spirit today that not even those bunch of boys whom I presume has long hair and it must be curly, jamming out of beat and tenor in one of the old houses opposite to this spanking new building housing a perfect little cafe with neat little elegant chairs and expensive drinks which if I was smart enough, I could have gotten my bottle of cold mineral water for just Rs. 20 a pop instead of a heart aching Rs.100 in one of the bhatti pasals and they wouldn't have tasted any less pricey. But where would I get my wireless connection was the connection to my exorbitant budget for the day besides, I am finding joy in the tiny little things; like how I received five Rs. 100 denominations and eight Rs. 50 denominations for a Rs. 1000 change after buying a Rs. 100 recharge card. On an ordinary day, I would have told them to open up a bank but today, I just took the huge roll of cash in hand and somehow forced them into my wallet that is already filled to the brim with lipsticks and lip balms and ATM papers, yes all plural.

There is something just lovely in the air today. 

So I might not be at work but my heart and mind is. I have already made two calls to the office today and here I am sitting thinking of how I am going to start writing that assignment due in three days and what else I could write as I mentally organize the October planner to assign writers accordingly. I am unreasonably workaholic and I think I seriously need to start hating myself just for that alone but right now, I love myself more than anything and I deserve to do anything and everything I want to do today, be it just watching two goats being pulled by the string across their neck by a young lad to I assume the butcher's or eavesdropping into the conversation of the 'shareholders' from which I have concluded that a lady's high-pitched voice can be really irritating among a group of three men, or it could just be her voice, or working my work assignments despite not getting paid for the day, or reading Michael Jackson's autobiography or just touching the corners of my already irritated eyes out of utter curiosity which most likely occurred from my comfort-seeking body dragged across my room's un-swept carpeted floor as I talked to my husband last night, or just people watching and clutching my heart or my breast, so to speak, in my hands as I regret the cups of coffee I will drown myself in, like a true gypsy. Wait a minute, do gypsies even drink coffee? 

Tell me, what have you done for yourself lately? 

P.s: If anyone can see the aura around me, I am pretty sure it is in the color of rainbow because that is how wonderful I feel today.



Sunday, September 2, 2012

Love fixes the broken clock

I feel like a cluster of broken thoughts and body of aching cells. It started raining heavily in the middle of the night, it was 2.39am on the clock and I haven't slept well the entire night. I tried but my mind wasn't trying at all. Flash after flash of haunting thoughts bugged me, telling me I am as hopeless and dense as one can be. I found myself asking, where that girl might be who knew what she wanted and how she wanted. I am a soul in a deep fish bowl with food to survive, but just to survive.

I feel half alive, a little daft and lost. I want the entire house to myself, and for all the planets' people to disappear like a swiping wind across Sahara. My face probably reflects a list of worries and struggles and guilt, my hair still wet from the morning shower cupping the sides of my cheeks, tugged back neatly behind my chilled ears. I was supposed to feel fresh and lighter after that but here I am, typing distressful things and my mind feels like a broken clock, its second hand just going ticking over and over on the last count of 59s to 60s unable to go beyond. I feel stuck in time, a time I wish I didn't belong to. 

All it takes is a call from my love(r) and everything feels perfectly in sync, all my gears in my rusting engine oiled with the sound of his just-aroused-from-a-deep-slumber voice. Like rays of sunshine reflected on drops of diamonds, he brightens up all the thriving darkness taking its life in me. Sometimes, he knows me better than I know myself and I can't help building a wall around me only to have him break it down as soon. He probably has known me all this life, stalking me all this while. I could hear his voice all day long and his snores all night long and be placated. I have loved before him, but he has taught me to love in a way I had never knew I could and it feels beautiful loving him with my entire heart. I struggled a lot giving him space in my life because I felt he didn't deserve me and now, I do not know how to love him as much as he loves me. 


10 Jobs I Never Want To Hold

1) Sales Assistant for slimming products
- "Uh, yes madam, it makes you slim! You will lose 10 kilograms in 10 days without exercise." How does one say that with a straight face when they know deep down it isn't true and how does anyone take anyone who wants to take slimming pills seriously?

2) Seamstress
- Hours of eye strain and hours of back pain from sitting stiff on a chair with no back support and  tiny details, passssssssss!

3) Marketing Assistant
- Being in the magazine industry, I know what they deal with. Advertisers are people with too much money and people falling into this category are usually arrogant, narcissistic and pissing. I have seen the sarcastic e-mail they send to our Marketing Managers and its really distressing and to deal with bitchy clients every day...not my cup of tea. I cannot be bothered enough to please people first and foremost.

4) Dentist
- Just yucks, just yucks...seeing all the dirt in between teeth must be a major appetite killer all the friggin' time. Oh my lord, I don't want to kiss anyone right now. 

5) A kindergarten teacher (or any teacher for that)
-  Kids are ridiculous!

7) Snooki
- That girl is just twisted in every way possible.

7) A daughter-in-law
- Toughest job in the entire flipping world of possibilities and impossibilities. No job satisfactions at the end of the day and there is no appreciating, too. What is the point?

8) If I were a male, a gynaecologist
- How can you still get turned on by a woman seeing all that can happen down there? Just tell me, how do you do it?

9) Psychologist
- I watched season 7 of How I Met Your Mother and that psych guy Robin date, he pretty much has a sad life, knowing how to read a person's emotions and facial expressions without even intending to. I would never want to fit myself in such shoes because people are my inspiration and I like to create stories out of them and I don't want them to tell me anything about them, let me just play with my thoughts. I wouldn't want to know if someone has a crush on me, I will figure it out in time or that someone has a cancer and is not telling anyone or stuffs like that.

10) An English teacher
- English is a subject that simply cannot be taught...especially when it comes to higher standards. What do you teach after that? The same reason I don't understand why people have Masters in English but its just me and my plankton sized brain. The truth is, teaching needs a lot of patience which I obviously lack. I am so horrible in illustrating my knowledge, it is as though I am too selfish to depart with them and share what I already know. I wonder how I tutored once upon a time.

*My sincere respect to all those holding the job. I just couldn't sleep tonight.


Saturday, September 1, 2012


Coffee does weird stuffs to me - I am in a trance of some sort - heart palpitations and feeble left hand and a very sleepy mind. I am exhausted and I hate number three. I hate number three in ways I don't want to give birth to a child on any third of the month. I would rather push earlier or push the baby back up. This is my number three post and I am dragging my fingers across the keyboard, trying to form each sentence.

I am not very superstitious but I am superstitious enough. If a cat crosses my path, it doesn't even have to be a black cat at all, I would spit to "clean" my path. Ridiculous, I know. If my slippers are accidentally overturned, I spit again. Some days, I make sure every time I start to walk somewhere, I make sure my right foot goes first if not I will just retract back and stand there in an almost attention for 15 minutes, in deep concentrated silence to undo the mistake. Just kidding.

Coffee without sugar is killing me but there is something amazing about coffee I cannot decline. Its like a date with the high school loser just because he can do homework for me. I hope it made sense as much as it made sense to my intoxicated brain.

7.56pm, I cannot wait to sleep.