Sunday, November 07, 2010

the cow story...of sadness

Now I seem to have moved from my diary to my blog. I am a little tired of noting down those itsy bitsy details and I would rather have a full fledged sob story. It is now clear. I write when I am low. I wish I was fully busy. These last few days, I have completed all my assignments and that has made me morose. Almost the entire last week I was at home drafting this and that including my resignation letter. Today it has left me sapped. I am looking forward to court tomorrow so that I can get into the procedure and rules. It has a comforting feel. I hope this sag with my Centre is over. I want to forget all of them for some time and lead my life without being accountable to them. Breaking away is always so difficult and so painful. But time heals, numbs the wounds, also sutures it. I wonder how life will be without being accountable to them. Something new to look forward to. I shall spend my vacation without feeling this obligation. By the way I also have my paper to finish redrafting. I have less than a month to look at it. It will be good to go to Pune. It gives a sense of what people are thinking and talking. But Pune is a city which doesn't excite me so much. What is there to do in Pune? I dont know. Maybe I am just low and feel unexcited about everything.

I tried to work today. I have to draft a counter and work on an argument. It is all very interesting, but I feel sapped. The child is thankfully sleeping, taking her afternoon nap. S is out on one of his numerous outstation assignments. Today he has gone to Ludhiana. Even though it feels a good and new place, I am not keen to travel anywhere. He will be back day after, late night.

I wish to record and devote atleast one small part in this depressing post to Puttu. To say the least, she has grown up. She now pees in the bathroom, shits in the bathroom and is most disciplined when I clean her bottom. I really like the way she gathers her frock or her skirt when she sits to do her pee or pooh. I am so touched by her sense of propriety in gathering her skirt and arranging it around her. She also now wears her pyjamas by herself. Rapidly she is becoming a small girl. There is no longer anything messy about her toilet. As against the dozen pyjamas that she would dirty even three months back, now it is just one or two.

I bought her a pattu langa jacket for Diwali. A dark green one. She looked lovely in it. We went visiting to 236 for breakfast.

After a very long time she is eating antibiotics for her throat infection which was threatening to turn into a ear infection too. She is much better now. I feel I have to record everything about her life lest I forget it in this routine life of mine. I tend to forget everything. What was momentous yesterday becomes so ordinary after a month or so. I live by the moment. I have to enjoy the moment lest it slips away like water. Somehow joy is so elusive, so ethereal. Whereas sadness is like a rock that is lodged in your head. It takes such a long time for it to melt, to break away, to disintegrate. Until then it keeps pricking you, nudging your blood vessels, affecting your hormones, producing a headache. Sighs. One can be so poetic about sadness. About joy and happiness I am scared to even acknowledge it even fleetingly lest it may disappear, lest I be cursed and become unhappy forever.

She makes these delightfully long sentences. She also talks to herself so often. She is now so fond of saying Neeyamma Pichi! Poh...She loves to bathe and wear her pattu langa. We use the pattu langa to our own advantage in making her brush her teeth, eat her breakfast and so on. Then she goes downstairs while we are in office. Or office can be either outside or inside. Today I wrote a long letter about the inside-outside to my friend. It is alls o sad. My sadness is like a cow story. it keeps returning in every sentence. I begin a new story and soon I am mooning over my sadness. It is so amusing.

It is cloudy outside. I still dont know how to take the child out and generally hang out. Once she insists on being carried I feel tired very quickly. It is not easy to carry a weight of 15 kilos.

Deepu's mother-in-law passed away. She was terribly old, infirm, delusional and bedridden. God has relieved her from her pain.

Why is it that I feel pained so often in my life? Why am I so often unhappy? Maybe other people do not dwell on their unhappiness like me. Maybe they are more happy and have a spring in their step. Maybe I am just a morose woman expecting too much attention from the world. When I dont get it, I sulk. Oh God! Am I a sulk? I hope not. But maybe, I am.

One last solution for my sadness. I take myself too seriously. Learn to lighten up. Learn to laugh at yourself. Crack jokes at yourself. Attend court everyday and I think you will feel a lot better. Please lighten up. You are just one of those million souls who inhabit this earth. Definitely, you have a better life than so many others. Yet, I have to feel sad and low.

Finish the counter and you shall feel better. Pay up Swaroopa the tailor. You will feel better.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

I almost feel like Karthik calling Karthik. He set up messages on his phone and replayed it to himself. I shall write blogs and then read it later. Only I can tell myself what I should be doing and how I should buck up. Buck up! Buck up! What a lovely film it was. The idea was so good.

Also, please do what you promised yourself today. Even that aspect is eating you up. You do it once and you shall feel a sense of achievement. I promise you baby.

Take care


Phew! I am returning to the blog after such a long time. Never felt the desire to write in this medium at all. But today, in one of those low moods for which I am particularly famous, I looked back into the older entries of my blog and found that I have hardly changed. I am so disappointed that I am the same. There is nothing new and spectacular about me. The issues continue to be the same and I respond to them in the same old way. It may take another couple of months for me to settle in all the new decisions that I have taken. I am tired of speaking to my friends the same things. My complaints are the same and their responses continue to be the same.

I am planning to take off for a while. I am going to the beach for less than a week. I just want to get away from this regular routine of housework, child work and court work. Also want to get away from seeing mails and the cause list. But right now I am so low that even the holiday feels boring and unattractive. Sitting here in this chair I feel that I will only end up getting bored out there. A sure sign that I am low and miserable. Last week I was so enthusiastic about my readings which I assiduously collected. But this week, I am not even looking at them. Last week was also bad as I fell sick with this virulent viral infection which took the breath away from me. Maybe it is a low produced by the viral infection. How I wish I can blame it all on the virus. It is definitely not pms. Or maybe all my hormones are screwed up and I am just depressed. Maybe I should just take a walk and exercise my body. Maybe that will drive out these spirits which are plaguing me. Maybe I should take Puttu and out and go to a bookshop and just buy some books. Maybe I should draft some petitions. But I am through with most of my work that I had set-up for the week. Tomorrow morning I shall also read the Warangal workers file and put my conscience in the clear. So, there seems to be no rational explanation for my feeling low. All this points to those wretched hormones. So there is something to the hormone theory after all. However, before I pounce on those hormones, I have to let my bile out about that stupid back massage. What a waste. It made me feel no good at all. It only made me worse. I shall not tell you all how much I spent but it is abominable. What do I do to get that money back? How do I punish myself?

How do I laugh at myself? Why do I take myself so seriously? Just have a laugh. Laugh like Alekhya who lives her life without a care and without a tear. Nothing affects her and yet she is so full of duty and cheer. Please, I want my cheer back. I want to be cheerful. I dont want to be a sour face. I dont want to be a dump. Buck up girl! Buck Up! Buck up and do what you had planned to do for the next week. You wanted to read and write. Whether you write or not, atleast please read. Have a good time and read. And do look forward to your life.