They say that one is usually not aware of one's hidden potential. It's all so true, I underestimate my body's capacity to store fat, only when there is a new bulge, revealed by an ill-fitting dress, only then I appreciate this potential.
Fat people become amazingly thin and sexy and then beauty queens become really ugly. It is all happening around me. Also suddenly the city gets bombed with a fire-plague. Everything catches fire- hospitals, markets etc.Then there is the budget , two budgets , the railway one that demands the head of a minister and the annual one, which is another story altogether.
The annual budget affects me because eating out will cost more. Of course it will affect me in many other ways but I have simplified it. One has no choice really. One has to simplify. The cacophony of the information overload game is greater than one can imagine. Either shut down. No news. No Facebook. No internet. Or, participate in the chaos.
Of course one can just stay aware and go about doing one's business. But that is easier said than done when one has loads of time and no motivation. One also has loads of time to do nothing. Nothing but think. Think shit. Then study a little and again go back to the shit. My mind is like an attractive cesspool of thoughts. I am the only one attracted. It is a monogamous thing.
People change. May be they remain the same, may be with every passing day we become acquainted with another new facet of a person we know. We may like this new revelation or it might just piss us off. With me, the latter is often the case. The party is over soon.But how does one stop the party altogether? How does one terminate stuff (I am not in the midst of a break up you fool, I just know some lousy people)? Can one just tap a person on the shoulder and say "Hi, yesterday we had a cuppa together but now I loathe you.Bye. " ?
Of course one does not and cannot do such silly things. That is too true. Too brutal. Too Unkind.Too honest. So one has to avoid , gradually create a distance. And that is how it finally fades away. Thankfully. Finally. But at times the wait is long, and the wait is compulsory. Why do we take the trouble? We are not kind souls, are we? We are mean, we are jealous, (I am murderous!) then why do we play this game? Touching the feet of elders when we don't respect them, visiting people when someone in their family dies, being really polite to some jerk and so on.
I believe in short answers. My ignorance aids my belief. So there was this season when everyone made boyfriends, it was sometime in college, like some breeding season when all the dogs in the street publicly engage in coitus (SHELDON I MISS YOU !) . This was followed by the season of break-ups, everyone broke up, the childhood nyaka sweethearts, the passionate birds, the buddy turned lovers, the mushy-mushy-bomi-bomi type , my ready-made answer to the myriad problems was "all men are bastards". Woo-hoo! .
In those days (few years back) one just called up a best friend, now one quotes/ misquotes a poet's sad words, and in worst cases pens a 911 FB update. The amazing updates which have the same thing to say ...like you betrayed me, you make my heart bleed, I don't have enough Dettol...etc etc. Funny. Really funny.
Who are our friends really? There are times when A says, "I did B, K died, Did you hear about G?" and X replies, " I buried a goat today." I am not exaggerating. That is the level of disconnect these days. One just needs to vent. May be we can paint a ear on a wall, pretend to be very esoteric and whisper our dirty secrets to it at night? Bad idea. I know. I know. It might attract cockroaches.
By the way, just a little thing, if you care about someone please write "Happy Birthday." Just two words. "HBD" sounds pathetic, looks pathetic and feels pathetic. Don't wish someone if you can't type two words properly.
That makes me think of my mother. She loves to celebrate my birthday. I don't. Not now. Of course I love cakes but you see... my mother likes the stuff that goes along with it- balloons, friends, party, gifts, laughter, haha's and hihi's. I don't. Not for more than 3-4 hours on any day. I am a chronic misanthrope.
So on one particular birthday I was at home. No celebrations and all. My mother came back with a gift. A palm-sized bucket. Upon seeing my what-the-hell expression, she explained that it was actually a candle. The I saw that the bucket was full of red wax and it was really a candle. My expression remained, she said I could take it to the loo when there is load-shedding . Yes, the craziness is inherited. Thank you very much.