Ouch

I have never been punched. I have been slapped before. But never punched.

But right now, I feel like I've been punched. Like a wham in my stomach and a right hook to my chin. Like having the wind knocked out of me.

So you gasp for a breath. And try to find a place where you wish the pain went away. A place where you can nurse the wound. Heal maybe. Sew things back up.

But there aren't many of those around. You look for the arms of someone to give you comfort and tell you that it can all be stitched back up. But you know, that in the end, all the stitching and the healing, has to come from you.

And you alone.

So you try and you fail. And then try again. Hoping that this time it'll actually work.

The idle mind is a devil's workshop. How true.

We had a creative writing competition of sorts. We were given a prompt and we had to build on it. Here's what I wrote. And this was sometime in the first semester. I don't like it.

I was walking down the street and suddenly I saw him. The old man with the flowers. He was smiling and humming a tune to himself. His hair was all white and his face was as wrinkled as a sun dried tomato. But his eyes, that’s what I remembered. His twinkling blue eyes. Eyes as blue as the sky in summer.

He offered me a daisy. “It’s completely free. Just for you,” he said and gave me that smile again. “Free? Why?” I asked. “You look like you need it. Daisies are the happiest flowers,” he answered. “Why would you say that?” I asked. “You look troubled my child. Those brown eyes shouldn’t be so sad,” he replied, “tell Grandpa Joe what’s wrong.”

I had never met him before. He was a complete stranger, but I couldn’t explain why I trusted him instantly. I knew he would understand and I did something that I hadn’t done in a long, long time. I cried.

He enveloped me in a tight hug and just let me cry. He never said a word. I let myself go and then I told him. I told him why I hated my home and hated my drunk father. I told this complete stranger things I didn’t tell my friends.

And he listened. He didn’t know me either, but he listened. He didn’t have to be nice to me, this girl who cried. He could have told me to leave, but he didn’t.
After it all, he told me, “Baby girl, Grandpa Joe says things are bad now, but they always get better. Just hold on.” I didn’t believe what he said but he filled me with an odd sense of calm. I took that daisy from him and I couldn’t thank him. “Don’t thank me. Just believe baby girl,” he said and smiled again.

I walked and even though I didn’t want to, I believed him. I couldn’t explain what had just happened. I didn’t know why I did why I did what I did. But I would never forget him. My guardian angel, Grandpa Joe, the old man with the flowers......

The perfect coffee 9

So the first thing I did when I got to Chennai was to drink coffee :D I got off the train, met my granddad and was making my way to the auto stand. He asked if I had eaten anything and I said nope. No breakfast. He asked if I wanted coffee and I couldn't really say no could I? ;) So I had my first taste of brilliant Tamilian coffee at the Chennai Central railway station.

The one main thing I'm looking forward to in my stay here in Chennai is the coffee. Because now, I can step into any cafe anywhere and get good coffee. South Indian style :D

So for those dedicated few who still read this space, keep reading. There will be a lot more to come. Stay tuned :D

Why is it so easy to publicise the fact that you hate someone but so difficult to say that you love someone?

I know. It's because the word love comes with a lot of responsibility. Hate doesn't. Because love comes with ropes attached. Hate doesn't. Because when you say something out loud or put it into black and white words, it gives it a new meaning, concretises (I don't think its a word, but it'll do till I think of something better) it; and it's so much more convenient to concretise hate. Not love.

*shrugs*

Marriage

And now I feel like talking about something that people always seem to associate with me. An aversion to marriage.

Now, I haven't made up my mind about what exactly my views on marriage are. I am not one of those free-wheeling hippie types who is completely against the entire concept. I'm not one of those straight-laced pro-marriage campaigners either.

I think I'm somewhere in between. I dislike the entire concept of needing a piece of paper to validate your relationship. I dislike the fact that the word marriage keeps two unhappy people together only because they're "married". I dislike how you HAVE to carry on being unhappy because you have to uphold the vows you might have believed in at some point in the past but don't anymore.

But I do believe that happy marriages are possible. They might be one in a million or like a needle in a haystack but they're there. And I also believe that there those few who want to get married not for the validation, but because they want to and they believe it'll last (little do they know).

But I do believe in fidelity and loyalty. I don't like "I'm bored" so I'll leave. I need more concrete reasons. I don't like those who say "I believe in long-term but I don't think I can stay loyal". Watte contradiction I say.

Well, that's that. I have had this argument, sorry discussion, with different people. And I have heard a lot of different opinions. It's interesting to think of. Hmm. I still remain without any clear side to the issue. A wise person has said - I would like a wedding, not a marriage. I might agree :D

I dislike confusion. Internal and external. Confusion throws me off balance. It throws things out of perspective. I lose my centre of gravity and things go out of whack. I hate that. There are a lot of things that I can't avoid, and that sort of confusion I make my peace with. But with the other things, I hate not knowing. And when other people can't control their thoughts and actions, and that creates confusion for me, now that is the worst sort of confusion.

When I can't sort things out in my head, which I should be able to do, I dislike it very much.

So yes, it's easier when I know. And I like balance, order. I like a sense of structure. So when you put me on a seesaw with a constantly changing centre of gravity, I DO NOT like it.

Now don't get me wrong, confusion isn't always bad. It can help sometimes. And sometimes, the whole fun of things is in the confusion, the unpredictability.

But I like my head uncluttered which never seems to happen. I like to KNOW. And sadly enough my knowing seems to have to come from others, which does not help, even a little.

To conclude this very odd post - I do not like confusion and I can't seem to avoid it. Time to change huh?