Monday, January 27, 2014

What the M !

My existence lies in one of those absurd moments where I am lamenting about no particular thing; still, the weights seem to be hanging from the lungs adding difficulty to grasp the lumps of air through the nose. These are the times where I am happy being left solitude and company is actually dreadful. There are many forms of lamentation; some choose the verbal - loose string of harsh words that raise an eyebrow, while others throw themselves on someone to open the natural shower of incessant rain from their eyes. But, I belong to a category that makes the irreparable mistake. Our category leaves an evidence behind making it convenient for others to do a 'someone told that..' punch back on the face when going to utter some words of philosophy in life. Yes, the bunch of prominence write with our blood and sweat over any form of media that can be read, criticized and happily quoted in the family functions. It is even more convenient if the writer is one of the reminders of dust particles whose blog is never read due to potential problems of puking and amnesia.

I have been craving to put the cursor of mouse over words to write something. Not kidding. It is the truth and a bitter one. I have been trying hard to convince myself that I can write and people would not get bored reading. But the weights sly away from the lungs to head and I give up. Since, both of my parasitic organs don’t go in coordination, I begin to drool over my favourite green eyed Tamil actor who might someday jump over from the laptop screen and kiss a solution. Till then, I will let the stranded wire connections gather cobwebs and be the way they want. These instances being similar to my self-opinionated answer that I really couldn’t /shouldn’t/ wouldn’t probably get married.

Being in the late twenties, the M word kind of irks my senses and brings a notion of pollution in the head. It clogs the thinking part, while every other particle in my body is screaming. Not that Disney land roller coaster pleasurable kind of scream but one where you want to drift over the clouds and let the whole world hear it.
Every day I wear socks to avoid the tan over my feet. I have exactly 4 pairs of socks- Light blue, white, black and light pink. Technically, I just have four pairs of sober colours which can be matched to any kind of dress I possess. Yet, it is a everyday ordeal to waste almost 15 minutes to decide which one. Should I even compare a prospect with my annoyance of socks selection, you may ask ? But, isn’t it one of the simplest decisions in life ? How many idlis can fill my stomach ? How much money should I take in a day ? Should I wear shades ? Simple questions require simple answers.But, my flexes tweak towards every directions for help,finally, end being the wrong choice.And I am supposed select another homo sapien to dwell with ? Kashtam pa!*

My dreams are getting wilder. Not the pervert type but inexplicable. I am clearly convinced that I have an alter ego called Kairishka who is a cross between the good side mother and the evil father. I am more powerful than any of the super heroes and worshipped. Doesn’t a  six year old get these dreams ? No, I am not trying to instigate that I am childlike in any way. I am only trying to understand the framework of my mind and thoughts. 

Other day, my friends were practicing something that seemed to sound like a motor. I thought they were mastering the art of sounding like the generator that ran every time the power was shut down at the opposite building. It took me exactly few minutes to understand that it was my snore being discussed. Okay, now we have bedroom issues too. Arree! Not that pervert thing again. So, whatever be it, I am going to give an impression that my husband is living with a gorilla that not only snored but also gobbled food the same way.

When I was fifteen, I was absolutely in love with bowler Irfan Pathan. I watched his photo daily like it was going to make my life a lot better. I blew secret kisses and dealt with great fantasies. My mother went yelling around the house that the guy of dreams was never in the same cadre of my caste. The point is, nothing has changed even now. I still swim in the same illusions and happiness of loving a guy unreachable. 
My ambitions seem to reach out beyond the imagination breaking all the impossibilities. Whether they make sense, I am not sure. I want to write, paint, act, dance, play badminton and at the same time, thrust forward in career. I just want to do everything and anything. And all co-exist while I am snoring away to glory. I am very ambitious when lying blissful on the bed. I could go beyond to find a euphemism but never would utter lazy!

When I am asked to look at the milk boiling on stove, I get a headache. When asked to clean the table, another one. When woken up from deep slumber, I run a migraine. See, responsibility has never been my forte. Shouldn't I be ashamed and live on all the leadership theories I learnt at B – school ?At least, put something to use ? Whatever be the awkwardness of the situation, I am ok at staring at the Facebook wall for ages. Yeah, I am on my way to be arrested for being an international stalker.

Sigh. Maybe I am someone never meant for anyone. I rather marry the tiny little whisky chocolates that I have fallen in love with. At least, they do make me tizzy with happiness and don’t say anything in return.

I am still in awe of the fact how people fall in love so easily and get married. I guess, my DNA should be tested to see if any kind of emotion blobbed out of the skin and ran into my head. 

Companionship, happiness, friendship, help, love, understanding and someone to depend -million reasons to get married.

But, Ponga da!** I am ok drooling over my green eyed hero. 

*Tough yaar!
** Go da!

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