Rant.

Perhaps it is the lack of fellow insomniacs who crack terrible puns at 3 in the morning or the constant honking of horns in the evening while going back home, but I seem to be coming apart. So do forgive the rants that will follow.

It is a season of wrongs. It is all wrong. The wrong cities and the wrong time and the wrong thoughts. The weather is wrong. It is supposed to be unpredictably hot and then comfortingly mild within seconds and it just won't happen. I'm sitting on the wrong chair and on the wrong side of the laptop screen and this whole room feels wrong.

The books are kept in the wrong order because why, just why should they be in height-wise order anyway? Who says it is wrong to stack them in the order of which they were loved?

The light is wrong, it no longer falls gracefully and has to be forced in through a tubelight that has something wrong with it and so won't start until I clamber up a chair and twist it forcefully which is again, a terrible way to start things off.

The location of the office is wrong and so is the loneliness of sitting facing the wall while your DVD refuses to work the right way. It is wrong to have to wake up feeling like the day has already been lived yesterday and that like the day past, today will also turn out to be a mine-field of things done wrong.

And I want to stand on the rooftop, jump up and down in frustration and yell to the world that it is going in the wrong direction but then again, does anybody really listen to the crazy kid on the roof?

Fuck you, when you say that my life is perfectly worked out because it isn't anywhere close to being that. Try living like this and you'd think twice before you make that snide comment ever again. But I can't because right now you're the only friend I know and I'd be much too lonely if you left as well.

They're all gone. The best friends, the boyfriend, the one bit of family outside family I relied on. And it's wrong how the one person still here is too busy because of a college she didn't even want to go to really. Everything is wrong and silly and has stopped making sense since I don't know when.

So maybe, just maybe when the weather changes and autumn comes, life will start making sense again but the wait till then is far too long and there is not enough to keep me sane till then.

And so I finally understand what my boss often says when the whole concept of living begins to confound him as well: "What to do? Life is slow, sad thing. Ask Mani Kaul."

Fuck it and maybe let me end of it all.

Comments

  1. mgeekAugust 14, 2011 at 4:26 PM

    The beauty about life is that even when it sucks, it does it beautifully... The trick is to love sucking... Candy and candour...

    ReplyDelete
  2. A.August 14, 2011 at 4:50 PM

    Aah yes, I am beginning to love the terrible bits as well. :)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Tangled up in blue...August 18, 2011 at 12:11 AM

    I cant wait for autumn to come either. The fall will make all things better.

    ReplyDelete
  4. JDAugust 28, 2011 at 3:36 AM

    Terrible bits make for great stories, if nothing else!

    ReplyDelete
  5. A.August 30, 2011 at 9:51 PM

    After a long, long time though.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

In The Time of Cholera, Love and Other Musings

I never did imagine one could read the way I do now. I picked up Love In The Time of Cholera for the 3rd time last month, in an attempt to finally read it. I've been rummaging through it for years now, making futile efforts to move beyond three or four pages. The fact is, at the time, I would have start building the streets that Dr. Urbino, Florentino and Fermina walked on all over again each time I started after keeping it down for a day. It becomes exhausting, imagining the crowded streets, nauseating odours and myriad of emotions throughout. This time around, all of it changed. I knew the city already. I could see it forming in my mind as I opened the pages to where I had last stopped. Somehow, I could fathom every cobbled path in the city as surely as the characters tread upon them. Florentino Ariza's love letters seem written by a hand no more experienced than mine. All it takes is one whiff of the air and every floating aroma, odour and smell from the harbour comes ru...
Read more

Just right

Ten years since the new millenium dawned upon us. I vaguely remember hurriedly updating my brand new won-in-a-school-computer-quiz Norton Anti-Virus in anticipation of the Y2K. And here I sit a decade later, with hardly any virus protection on my dearest laptop. A lot has changed. Much that I am glad for. And since this does happen to be my blog, I shall tell you the best thing about 2010. And this decade, for that matter. My mother discovered FabIndia and I discovered People Tree. Contrary to popular beliefs (since I am forever somehow in possession of new clothes), I haven't fully discovered the joys of shopping. Yet, it was shopping at these two places that made me the person I am. Growing up on the flabbier side of the spectrum, I was always fond of wearing baggy clothes and loose jeans to not draw more attention than needed. It was mostly simple t-shirts and a few cherished beauties that I stuck to. Till the day Mother figured she would be the one to account for 47% of Fab...
Read more