Thursday, March 25, 2021
Saturday, January 9, 2021
It wasn’t a good feeling, this attempt at adultery. Is there anything like that? An attempt, per se? Either I am committing it or not. But there is an urge, a broken heart, and dissatisfaction in plenty, along with no appreciation combined, that brought me to this platform - TINDER. Little did I know that tinder is going to break my tender heart! I log in with much hesitation, half convinced I am deleting my account in 5 minutes. But the app keeps bringing forth faces never seen. I feel tempted to go on. Or is it more of an obligation that weak-hearted like me find it impolite to not respond? Uff, it's just an app, after all. And here I go...at first, slow and observant, slowly improving my speed. Days pass. I get more and more matches. More choices. Until I realize I’m a player. Now it's like I am addicted to it. Swiping left mostly and then right at times...now it's like a rhythm. 3 left 1 right.
STOP! I ... I just ..oh no! Was he? ITS A MATCH was displayed all over the screen. Oh yes...I see a red dot over the message icon. I have received a message. My heart skips a beat and yet I dare to see the message awaiting me.
It was from him...my husband!
We both swiped right for each other?! Me by mistake, him... Deliberately, is it? I shudder.
All he wrote was: “so this is where you’re busy then
I responded: ...and you too
Him: Well, looks like this is what it has come down to, we searching for different partners
I: I wonder why it took me so long. You? You must be on tinder for really long.
Him: I created an account today.
I: Me too. Strange! Why today? What triggered you?
Him: I feel ignored and unheard and unloved.
I: The feeling is mutual
Him: Ok then. Keep looking! If you find someone, do let me know.
I: Why? What would you do?
Him: Nothing much. Just wish you farewell.
I: Eager to bid me goodbye?
Him: Both of us are not happy in this relationship. What’s the point of being together?
I: Looks like you found someone already!
Him: I sure did. I found you only to realize I have lost you.
I: You found me but did you want me?
Him: Yes. But not on Tinder.
I: Do you feel a sense of loss then?
Him: Yes and you?
I: No, I don’t. I need to feel appreciated for what I am. That’s what brings me here and I have no regrets other than the fact that the people here care even less. All they need is...
Him: ...Of course they do
I: ...but you don’t. You won’t even come close to me. Why? What have I done to deserve this?
Him: You haven’t done anything wrong. But we have a lot of differences that need to be resolved first.
I: by ignoring each other’s presence, or better still by pretending we don’t exist in each other’s lives...
Him: I know we need to talk. But how? How can we possibly talk when we both have so much to say, so much we have been holding inside us; grudges included. It’s a mix of emotions and no one to hear.
I: The only thing I probably agree with you is this very thing you mentioned. We initiate a conversation but we don’t want one. All I want is to be heard. I waited and waited for my turn. I realized you no longer want to be a part of my everyday life. We are together, socially. We bond well when times are bad and just when we think that things are ok, we are on our separate ways. Back to our lives. There is nothing personal between us now. Only personal lives. And you and I... is long gone by.
Him: Can we get back together ever again?
I: I am broken. I will try but I don’t have any hopes left. Or maybe there is some light in the darkest corner of my heart. Still a candle, almost out of wax, as little as the littlest reasons we fight on. But there is some light. Let's try. Come to our room then...
Him: ...it won’t work this time... bedroom cannot always be the remedy. I feel there is too much unsaid and unresolved between us. Making out always cannot be the answer.
I: Why don’t you come inside first and see how it goes
Him: Well if you insist. I will come inside but I don’t know how to confront you and doesn’t it bother you at all how you will face me?
I: that’s for you to see. Come NOW!
The husband does as he is told. He comes inside hesitantly. He doesn’t want to see his wife and is too heartbroken. However, he enters the room. He is shocked to see his wife lying down with a man next to her. All this while he was at home. How could she? How did they?
Husband: (speechless) what…what is happening here? He turns around and leaves the room.
Not believing why he is doing the moral thing by leaving the room in spite of him being the husband and it being his bedroom and she being his wife. Disgruntled, he goes back and this time enters like a storm only to find his wife is lying down alone. Where is he? That.. that man?!
Wife: Which man? What are you saying? I am lying down under these sheets, all for you. Saying so, she smiles.
The husband is confused for a second and believes what he saw was just some hallucination after he did some immediate checks inside the closet.
He hugs his wife. It’s a bone-cracking hug like he is afraid he will lose her. He kisses her, soft quick kisses at first, really rapid ones. He wants to make sure she is his and his alone. That no one else has taken his place in her life, that no one has touched her but him. He then kisses her lips... never for once leaving them. Just trying to dig deeper and deeper into her. It’s like a stamp, ownership of sorts. And he sheds a tear. Amidst the kiss, the wife sees the tear and wipes it away. She understands he so loves her and this was just a passing phase. Marriage, after all, is a rocky ride. She somehow managed to loosen his grip on her and asked if she could use the restroom and be back in a min. Saying so, she walked to the restroom, opened the door, and asked her boyfriend to leave quickly. He did. She smiled and waved him goodbye. She came back hurriedly, closing the bedroom door behind, and snuggled between the sheets again.
The husband was already asleep, so exhausted with the trauma caused to him by what he thought he saw and also relieved to have her as his own woman, dismissing everything else as just his imagination. The wife slowly pats his back, moves her hand over his soft hair, and kisses his forehead. She then stretches her hands and takes his phone, lying next to him on the other side.
She deletes his Tinder profile and when she is about to delete hers, she sees there is a message awaiting her attention. She just goes to check it this last time and reads what her Tinder boyfriend has written, “check your email urgently”. She does, only to find there is a video of her husband sleeping with someone.
She is shocked at first, then calms down almost immediately. She again stretches her arm, and reaches for the pillow on his side, leaves his phone there, and then gets a knife from under the pillow. Her heart beats so fast and yet she won’t stop to listen to her conscience this time. She swiftly takes the knife and plunges it into his back. Stabbing him. Piercing him. The husband wakes up startled and to stop her, presses her neck with both his hands. She smiles, coughs, and smiles. She can’t take no more. Her windpipe would burst. But she is ok. There is some calmness within her. The sweet feeling of revenge taken!
Not before long, her husband thinks he should instead call for help. He can’t seem to find his phone that is under the pillow but behind him and he can’t turn as he is injured so bad. So when he tries to do that, his hand loses its grip on her neck and she relieves herself and goes to his backside where he is unable to face her. She then takes the phone and throws it into the drawer in the wardrobe. Locks it there to make doubly sure he cannot reach it.
She sits down and sees his face, wrinkled in pain. The creases on his face reminded her of how that young man he once was, has turned to be older, with her by his side. Never even once thinking this could be his end. Not imagining even once, all these years, the woman he lost his virginity with, woke up every day next to, is someday going to murder him.
Then it all comes back to her. How... just how did her boyfriend get his hands on the video of the intimate moments between her husband and that other woman? She quickly wipes her tears and takes her phone. She calls him but her boyfriend won’t pick up. He just won’t. Then she gets a message from him. She didn’t expect it to be another video. But it was! It was a video of hers. Her killing her husband! Now the wife is worried sick. She frantically runs around the house, opening the doors and curtains and every place to find a hidden camera of her boyfriend. She did find, finally. No, not the camera but her boyfriend. But it was too late. She had met her fate.
She glanced through the pool of blood on which her husband lay. She repents but it’s too late. She wishes she had called the ambulance on time. She forces her eyes shut with her mouth twisted in regret and there comes a fresh flow of regretful tears... the last of its kind because now her eyes are turned into stone. So is her heart! Her boyfriend puts a leash on her neck. She is in her own kitchen, all naked, cutting onions on the vegetable board, lost in thought, thinking about all that could be undone. Just then, her neck pains... she is being pulled. Her master needs food. She finishes cooking the food, serves it on a tray. She then kneels down, crawls to her master. He asks her to lick his boots. She does as she is told. He then demands her to feed him. She does as she is told. He asks her to wash the plates. She does as she is told. He tells her to put him to bed, she does as she is told. Only this time he won’t wake up.
Thursday, December 24, 2020
Little did I know that I am going to die today. But my soul had chosen to depart on a pleasant day, just the way I like it. I have spent hours thinking of how should death be for me. Yes, I did think about that part in detail. After all, what can an old woman in her 100+ years do? I am wrinkled beautifully…the lines making me more beautiful. My relationships are not dependent on me but I am on them. I am now a great grandmother but neither can I enjoy these benefits or take the responsibility for the newborns. Heck! No one would even trust me to take up such responsibilities.
They say I am now forgetting things. But little do they know that I have memories stored in me. I remember a lot of their childhood, a lot of their children’s childhood. What I don’t remember is the recent things happening around me. That’s because my mind is all dwelling in the past. Coz that’s where I lived…and that’s where my presence was important. I was loved and at peace but not realizing the peace as I was too busy at that time. This present tense has nothing to offer me but peace of a different kind. Peace in terms of time. The time is now my friend. It no longer runs past as it did in my dutiful days of youth. I never found time. And today, I have time in plenty but those around me don’t have it for me. It's ok, I understand, I too have lived that age and stage. So after finishing up with my morning routine, I come down to sit peacefully in my community.
It's basically getting out of the house so that people in the house can relax and not have to do things for me. I don’t want to disturb anyone. Yes, I want to help. But I am scared. I am scared I will make a mistake and my folks won't like it. They won't say it, but their distrust is not what I want to earn. I have already earned that enough. I don’t know I am old until I see myself in the mirror or am made to feel by everybody around me. I like it when I am offered a place to sit, every time I go somewhere. I know nobody likes me talking, as my speech is not very clear due to broken teeth.
I know I try too hard to entertain the younger generation but they just smile and nod rapidly to get back to their lives and excuse themselves but are being polite out of respect. I am alone. I need to accept that. But what do I do? I am afraid if I am too silent, I will be considered dead. I will be non-existent. I like to see little grandchildren of mine playing around me but am scared to touch them and play with them, what if I upset their parents or hurt them. They somehow like me a little perhaps but they too have a busy day planned ahead of them.
So I sit here all by myself. I still feel pretty. I still feel knowledgeable and have plenty to share but nobody to listen to. And so I resort to writing. But little did I know that I am dying today. The birds are chirping for me for the last time. I want to take in most of this world. There is never enough. Yet I pray for my death as I don’t want to burden my family. I know they will cry out of the habit of seeing me around. My death will stir up the memories to come to the surface and I will be happy to be remembered for my past, for the existence of mine that they valued much. But soon, and by soon I mean, very soon they will go their way, suppressing their sighs, subconsciously feeling guilty for feeling at ease after I have passed away. It means one less responsibility from their busy lives, an extra bed and a room for their children or for their storeroom even and I don’t blame them. I am happy to see the world outside but I don’t want to remember anything anymore. Countless memories have been relived countless times and I now want to be the same toothless person but a cuter version of me someplace else.
Everything seems scary now. Because it will all be out of my comfort zone. Everything in my new upcoming life is unpredictable but if one goes by karma, I think I haven’t given much happiness to my family and the people around me. I have been more of a taker, less of a giver. Perhaps that’s the definition of being lucky. So I was lucky in love, lucky in having a beautiful family, parents and my child is the most wonderful soul and I have been very very lucky that he has taken care of me more than anyone can possibly do or even think of. But for now, this is a goodbye letter. I hope I can write again to share my after-death experiences as well.
Tuesday, November 17, 2020
My story is about depression, about anxiety. And about overcoming it.
No, this isn’t an advisory blog. This is just to let you know the only and only way that helped me come out of it was self-realization with time. The advices from people in fact made this journey a long one. I wasn’t very happy to discuss my personal life with others but when the wave of depression hits you, you try to breathe, try hard pushing all your limbs and the only time you breathe fresh air by coming up on the surface is by talking. But people don’t understand this cry of help. They think you are insane, talking too much, irritating, self-centered. Everything they seem to know but the real fact that they do not acknowledge is that we need help. We are humans, a human touch, a listening ear, a meaningful embrace is all that is needed to help us through.
At this time when Sushant Singh Rajput is no more, there are millions of posts and re-posts mainly, suggesting people in depression to come out of the closet and speak about their fears and problems to close friends. FRIENDS???? Where are they? They are only there to ignore you in such times. At first, they listen to you because there is a story there about your life. A story that has something to soothe the listener, the so-called friend. They show sympathy in the beginning but then its a pleasure that they aren’t experiencing what we do and then it transforms into a superiority feeling and this is what they think, “I would’ve dealt with this situation better. And of course, I wouldn’t be going around telling people about things and situations and people in my lives. This woman really needs to grow up.” Yes they will speak good things to you at first, but believe me your story will be doing the rounds and people will ask you uncomfortable questions time and again, at every gathering. Some will even show that they are true friends, listen to you and mock at you. You already know the deal. Your story for their entertainment. Don’t sign this.
I am not here to advice anyone what to do.
But I understand life or our own wrong doings sometimes may seem to hit us hard but even if I wont say it, you already know how to deal with it. The only and only thing I would like to strongly suggest is DO NOT SHARE. PUBLIC PLATFORMS ARE SAFER THAN YOUR SO-CALLED FRIENDS. At least, there are people out there who do take joy in your depression stories but comment about pray and love and care. Be your own friend, journal or blog, stop beating yourself too hard and if your own doing in the past has transformed into a guilt and is killing you secretly from within, don’t try and seek peace desperately. Let it pass through. Accept that hard feeling you feel. Yes, you might think you are the worst person in the world while others are smartly coping with their own lives, so be it! Don’t be in a rush to get there. Before giving up on yourself, think about something good you may have done to others. Even if it is a little something then there is some good in you. Your conscience is alive. Let it beat you hard but then pray to yourself, to your conscience, to guide you to do things right from now on. TRY TRY TRY before you think of leaving this plane. Because you know not what lies ahead. Maybe this suffering doesn’t end here. But what can end is your own life. Maybe you can use it to fix the wrong and help others. Sometimes they say, by doing and spreading good, you feel good. Maybe that approach is worth a shot. Been there, done that! Still look behind and now guilt is my only companion. But not for the world to know any more. I am not just a story for others, I am worth much more. Love and hugs to those who need it and are going through a tough tough phase. Let time and the situations in your life do the talking. Hang in there! even if for just a little while longer.
Sunday, July 12, 2020
Wednesday, May 27, 2020
This place is a dark lonely lane. The street lights are there but I feel I have lost the happiness around me. Yet it gives me the satisfaction that I am at the place I deserve. A solitary place. At least the laughter does not mock me here. I start walking on this dark lane with the support of the dim street lights. The lights flicker at first and then one by one, as I pass each of them, they break. The glass pieces scatter all around me and I tread the path, being pricked by the glass pieces again and again. My feet bleed and yet I know this is the place I deserve to be and that gives me a good feeling of sadness.
The lights break because the evil in me cannot let the light fall on me. This is the guilt land, the land where the evil in me punishes me. My wrongdoings, the evilness in me, and the memories of the past haunt me here, this is the place I love to hate myself at and yet this is the place I find solace in, as this is what I deserve. Meet me, I am guilty and this is my guilty land. If you want it to be your neverland, treat your people with respect and love and gratitude. When you hurt someone who counts on you, who worships you, the memories of it will kill you from within and yet spare your life to suffer the suffering you gave your dear one someday.