Moment of Weakness.

Sitting quietly in an unnoticed corner with tears dripping continuously and my heart racing over my will power, I think of the moment that will be if I gave in to this moment of weakness. Why do I call it a weakness when it seems as the right-est thing to do? It is weakness because I know in my mind and somewhere in my heart that I should not be doing it. 

Why should I not choose that part of my heart that encourages me to do the thing that 'seems' like the right thing to do? I cannot cave to that part of my heart as that is the part I created to support my irrational thoughts and talk me into the things that I do not wish to do (in the right mind) but still wish to do.

I want it so bad, I don't think I can go past the compelling feeling of wanting to make a call or send a text. If I go ahead and give in to that moment of weakness, I will for that single moment or two be happy or don't know how I will actually feel. If it was really good for my life, why is there no peace in my heart, why are my cheeks still wet and why am I choking over my own voice? 

If this is real happiness why is it making me so weak?

When Sending Off Goes Wrong!

Mistakenly had set the alarm for 23:45 in the place of 00:45. Got up an hour early, bullied myself to sleep and got up exactly at 00:45. Stepped out of the room to see if Pa was up and getting ready. It was spookily silent and dark. I stepped out, opened the fridge (I needed to stay awake, don't judge me) took a quick scan for any ice-cream, candy or soda, closed it in a hush and looked at my left where there is a door to the third bedroom.

Thought I'll peep a little and see if Ma is awake. Before I could see through the door, I thought to myself, what if she sees me first and gets scared that someone is looking at her in the dark? So I stepped back and quietly got into my room which is diagonal to this room, the lights still not turned on allowing the eeriness to expand.

Sat on my bed for a moment or two, then opened the room door and hit down the door stopper, switched on the corridor light adjacent to which is the room where Pa is sleeping. I was basically trying to be awake when Pa was leaving. Anyway, 5 -10 - 15 mins. passed, no sign of anyone getting up, or alarms ringing, lights going up, nothing. I began to think if Pa was indeed leaving tonight or am I plainly wrong? Why hasn't the cab driver called yet? May be he needs to Check-in at 4am uh? May be I gave my hubby wrong info on Pa's travel? Or wait, did Pa oversleep? What if he misses the flight? I was getting a little freaked out nonetheless the clock kept ticking without any concern and it was 1:00am and still I was the only one awake. 

Should I wake them up.., later to know there was still time for the flight? So let me check for his flight details I thought to myself. Now how do I do it without going into his room and checking through his files and draws? Mmm, easy and quick way, hack open Pa's Gmail account and I started looking through recent mails. No trace of job related conversations or travel plans whatsoever. Wait a second, is Pa lying to us and going somewhere else? :O Alright now it's high time, either I need to know whether Pa's leaving today or am I just sitting up foolishly and panicking about situations I am not even sure of.. just when I was concluding my thoughts, the old classic ring of the saving alarm rang! Phew! Welcome reality, I thought to myself.

Ma walked up to my room, her face twice the size and she looked uncomfortably at me and said 'you got up early huh?' I thought to myself yeah, way too early even before the beginning of the day! Meanwhile Pa's alarm rang, I got comfortable and straightened my thoughts. Walked up to the balcony, took some haphazard pics of the moon amidst barren branches for #instagram :P

Peeped down to see couple of cabs waiting. Good these guys are already here, I said to myself. Pa was in the shower. Ma was ironing Pa's pants mumbling under her breath he's gonna scold why is it hot while wearing it and I was walking up and down like I had to decide between Rahul and Modi. Anyway, Pa came out and asked me why did you get up ma..? I thought to myself, good koshtin!! ;) then dragged his bag out and started removing the cabin luggage labels of his previous travel still stuck on his bags. 

Ma made coffee, I had to have one by that time coz of all the needless, unproductive and exhaustive thinking I did in the past one hour. Finally Ma prayed (we always pray before stepping out of the house), we exchanged anbin muthangal ( holy kisses) and each of us took a travel bag. Me: suitcase; Pa: hand luggage Ma: carton box with the uniform, helmet and safety shoes. Scrambled through the hallway and off the lift we went down from the 3rd floor, not bothering to shut doors or turn off the light. Exited the lift to find Ramu (the night watchman) in rags. Tried to overlook him and went to open the wooden door which is the main door to the building leading us from the parking to the apartment. Ramu came forward with a sheepish grin to get the suitcase and other bags as we stepped into the parking area and on to the main gate to find our cab. Apparently the cabs I looked down from the balcony were not the ones we had called for. Secondly, the cab we called for was nowhere in the vicinity. As impulsive as Pa is, he jumped into a random cab and asked the driver to take him to the airport. Bewildered by the sudden savaari (ride), the driver who lay asleep got dressed up in a jiffy and began loading the luggage in the boot. Me startled at the turn of events took Pa's phone to find the driver details sent to us by Hola Cabs which we originally booked. Pa said its late and I got no time to look for the cab I booked, so I am good in this cab and he took off. 

We were like okay, as far as he reaches safely and we turned back into the building after waving him from the sidewalks, just to realise the wooden door was closed & locked, intercoms down and the Video doorbells not working! And the real tragedy is none of us had our phones. I begin to inappropriately smile and show my teeth when we are in a terrible fix/ordeal and I was just doing that but a little too much this time. The only person that can be contacted for help is Pa and he is already gone and how do we reach Pa, we hadn't figured that out yet. 

Three of us stood there looking at each other thinking to ourselves, damn it.. It was around 1:45am now, I took a small stroll surrounding the building making Rose Jackson noises, Help! Is someone there? Can you help us, (looking upward to the houses.) Knowing it's of no avail, me and Ma went to the police booth two blocks away to find help and alas the furious Hola cab fellow was waiting. Oopsie!! 

Moved passed him innocently and told the policeman the story of Pa's-airport-and-ladies-lockout, he was kind enough to give his phone so we can contact Pa. Ma took the phone to call Pa so he can call someone in the Apartment but Ma forgot Pa's number in the recklessness of the situation and I stood there with my eyes popping out and the uncomfortable teeth showing began. She panicked a bit trying to remove the cloud of hopelessness and thankfully remembered his number. She informed Pa to call Mehta sir, the secretary of the building to open the door for us. We thanked the policeman and got into the parking area with a sense of Yeah-we-figured-this-out and told Ramu, nothing to worry.. Mehta sir will open, let's wait here. He said Mehta sir is out of station from last week madam. Waow what a waow!!

My spirit sank into my deepest spot and my eyes started to look for a place to spoon in the basement, but trying to stay upbeat and controlling my lips from showing the teeth, I was thinking of alternatives. Thanks to Captain aka Pa, he called our neighbour Rupal who was at her mother's place for the weekend. Seeing a call at 2am, she was petrified not knowing if her husband was alright. Pa explained and she called her husband who was in the building, His heart failed seeing a call from his wife at such an hour in the night from 600 kms away and frantically answered hoping to hear nothing was wrong with her or the kids. She explained and he came down and rescued us.

After disturbing half a dozen people's sleep and giving each of them mini-heart attacks, we went into our house, turned off the lights, shut the door behind us and latched it while I opened my laptop to record the insanity of that night.

The End.

May 12, 3:05

Women, sometimes..

Somedays you find yourself unbelievably quiet. There's dimness in your eyes, dullness in your face and overall gloominess in your appearance. You don't feel good. You either feel too restless or too numb. Your movement will be limited, your emotions at its minimal activeness.

You'd spend your day either lying down on your back or sitting up in a perfect angled posture. Your eyes will concentrate on something that's most likely inanimate and most certainly of nil significance. You would prefer less or no contact with another person, verbal or otherwise. Eventually you will begin to think why you are feeling so remorse and why you are overtaken with such resentment, however your heart and mind will not cooperate and give you a logical answer, instead, it will complicate you further. 

This is a common thing in the life of a strong woman. She has her off days. Her backpack of responsibilities sometimes disorient and distraught her in intangible ways. Behaviour such as this is her body's way of reciprocating to the crazy madness in her life. It's perfectly normal, if you're a woman.

Love Unconditional

God created the Universe,

The shining stars and the beaming sun,

He let the earth hung on it,

Yet held me close in His heart.

I cannot speak of His love divine,

It is pure, it is radiant and it is undefiled,

To have a Father and Friend like Him,

I did no good or helped no poor,

His Mercy reaches the ends of the Universe,

His grace shoots up till the Milky way.

To think this world is here to stay,

Is akin to the sheep that has no understanding of the slaughter house,

The butcher is waiting with his sharpened knife,

But he looks so pleasant and charming to the face.

Don't fall a prey, 

Your life is most precious.

Jesus hung on the cross and purchased you with His blood,

Don't let the devil deceive you.

He shows you pearls and lures you with vain joy,
His heart is crooked, his ways are twisted.

Is not the God who created you not know what kind of joy you will need?
Try Jesus.
You will never want the world again.
Come to Him now, He is waiting for you. 

Feeling Fat, Ugly and Good.

I'd like to be honest, even in my writing. So here comes the bitter waffle wrapped in chocolate sauce.

When you're 25, just married and your husband is super hot and you both live in a cosmic city amidst equally good-looking & great friends and *wait for it* YOU weigh 185 pounds (equivalent or more than a fully pregnant lady) *long pause* you know your happiness is compromised.

Whoever, whenever, however says that its okay to be on the healthy side i.e. a little plumpy, either does not understand women or has dreams to pursue & goals to attain or self respect, or the desire to live amicably, joyously or appreciably. Though I sound absolutely harum-scarum and completely opinionated, trust me when I say that I am not angry, fed up, distressed or hopeless. 

Lets be honest, we are still the same people that allow our eyes to pause a little longer on a toned body at the supermarket or a traffic signal and seamlessly look away from someone who look like a beached whale without an iota of asservation (even in our subconcious mind) that there was a person in the vicinity that our eyes fell upon, even accidently.

Here's the real deal. To want to look good can be your state of mind but to be good-looking is the norm of the society. From the broadband service guy who comes to your house to fix the seldom connecting modem to the sales girl at a road-side store wearing a stem long earring, everyone is high on looking good and scouting for attention, but what has all that to do with self esteem?

Self-esteem is based on what you think;
Self-respect is based on what you do. 


Don't misinterpret or misunderstand them. It is extremely normal for any person (however huge) to love themselves and not be a bigot. In fact as against popular saying that fat people have low esteem, I can tell from experience that the bigger ones are more open-minded, friendly and approachable, care-free and mildly innocent. I recently read in foxdc.com about Amani Terrell (250 pounds) who walked around wearing only a bikini in the Hollywood boulevard. What she said was truly meaningful and inspiring. "You can not seek validation from other people. This world is very cruel. You must seek validation within yourself and be kind to yourself."

She was exasperated with the idea of determining the personality of a person with their physique and did what she did to tell that volume has nothing to do with value. I am pro-fitness and am still over-weight, that doesn't make me a hypocrite for not being what I believe or does not distraught me because I cannot touch my toe without bending my knee. Its called embracing oneself. To be precise, my size does not withold the measure of my smile.

Choices.

If you are gifted with a smart phone that does not support connecting to wi-fi, is you having a smart phone making any sense to you? Or if your job is well-paying so much that its more than what you wanted but still your boss is a crack-head making you feel incompetent, is that money still making you happy?

I am that person who'd choose spending lone time with myself than joining a bunch of good friends at the club or who would pass shopping with my husband who in fact wants to get me stuff, and rather sit near the window sill and ponder on what should be the next line in this blog post. As cliche as this may sound, it is true that each day brings with it hope, opportunity and experience. Its completely left to us to embrace it and make it a possibility. 

Doing what you think works for you best is the best way to be doing things.

Life’s a mix, of the good, better and best. There is no ugly, horrid or execrable. I say this because all the so called painful things that life brings us is like the dung that's essential for a plant to germinate and the flowers to bloom. We need the pain as much as the victory; the hardships as much as the glory and the wounds as much as the praise. Keep your worrying brief, just like this post. 

For the love of words.

Laboring for money and gratification rarely intersect. Most people run in parallels, while few have a good taste of both and try to fit in until they give up completely and choose what works for them monetarily.

                                      

I've been working in the Marketing Communication industry for almost 5 years straight after my MBA. Got married to a Marine, so had to quit my regular day job to acclimatize and get ready to swim into the tide of family bonding and take over the role of a bahu ;) Anyway, the point is, I love words, I always have. I generally set my Username to Logophile. I love calling myself that. I haven't known anything more fulfilling, comforting, empowering or strengthening than the words I write. I do not know if the feeling is mutual for everyone who writes for pleasure or work, but this is why I write. I find rest to my aching head when I spill the menace into a paper.

I wonder if everyone who have known their passion in life can relate to that as to how I look at words, mmm. I guess they will be able to, certainly. How else does having a strong love or passion for something justifiable if it does not distract you into giving it precedence above the rest of the important things in life. I remember my mom telling me how her younger brother (my uncle/maama) used to wash and clean his Royal Enfield first thing in the morning even before completing his morning chores. That speaks of the love for his bike. I am convinced love of that kind is imperative to persuade and succeed in life in their field of love. 

Personally recently, I have attained a new low in life. I literally drag myself out of my room every two to three hours once just to be in the vicinity and proximity of my in-laws. I am sick of watching Castle, How I Met Your Mother, Crazy Ones, Two Broke Girls, Boston Legal and Two and a Half Men and of course their re-telecasts during the day. Sigh! I've become painfully deplorable in watching YouTube videos with skip-able ads while I still watch them without skipping the ads. But in all this craziness and despicableness, the sweet fragrance and beaming light of words allures me in a twinkle of enchanted rhapsody.

That is my Saviour and redeemer keeping me sane and lucid.