Mrs. Donkey

Mrs. D does not deserve to have a nice son in law. She deserves the worst. But poor Alice. Why should she suffer?

Just because that $#@%& is a crazy &!#%$ is no reason for that sweet girl to be doomed to misery.

Just to say hi

Lots of things going on in my head. Comparisons mostly.

Mr. A recently confided something to me. I felt hurt because clearly it was something he'd been thinking about for a while. And since I would confide almost everything to him I thought he would do the same to me.  Confiding after months isn't quite the same.

Then Mr. B confided almost the same thing to me. The difference? A confided in me when he was halfway through his journey. B confided in me when he first thought of the journey.

I couldn't help comparing both of them.

The person I was last year would have left it at that. The person I am now analysed it further. And I realised this was another example of comparing apples to oranges.

B confides in people easily. A does not confide in people. Ergo a level 1 confidence from A should be treasured more than a level 3 confidence from B.

And yet, though my head knows this, my heart still compares.

Promoted again... and again

Got promoted twice since I wrote here last... Didn't get out of my job, instead got really hooked on it.

Hmmm..... what changed? I guess new management at the helm.

Last I wrote we were starting shifts. They continued till September 2009 and during that time my life changed completely.

My best friend... found new friends. I became lonelier than I've ever been - but a few people got me through that phase.

For some time my company managed to avoid the recession but in the second half of 2009 it caught up with us and we had to lay off some people.

After that, life moved slowly onwards till June or July 2010. That's when a new potential client popped up and said they wanted some associates to come to New Jersey for training. Guess that's when my life changed again. I was selected for the training - and got a trip to NJ and NY in Sept 2010 out of it. The client did not sign us up in the end cos of some unrelated factors but I got noticed by the new management and got promoted to Manager of a new division in Feb 2011.

It's been little more than a year since then but I've lived several lifetimes during this period.

It's been a rocky year but here I am promoted again - this time to Sr. Manager.

How things have changed - now I desperately want to be instrumental in making my company a success - my writing has receded into the back ground.

But who knows - maybe it's time for a change once again. I've noticed that whenever things seem to have settled - the cards get shuffled again...

Shuffle...

Statutory Warning: Drama Ahead - Please do NOT read if you are a practical, prosaic person (unless you want to know how others live).

Today, after years I felt the urge to cut myself. For those hearing about this for the first time - please don't panic. I am not suicidal, neither am I intent on harming myself - I just hate the fact that I have no self control at times. For me, a little cut on my pinky finger used to be a great way of putting any "emotional" pain I was feeling into context.

Like I said, it's been years - so what made me slip today?

-Lack of self control
-Getting too caught up in my dreams (the real deal - not day dreams)
-The inability to believe the evidence of my fucking senses. I believed that I was practical enough and tough enough to have learned that there's no use banging my head against the wall. Much better to climb over it or find another route.

And yet today, like a sap, I gave in to this child inside me. The softie that is a sucker for a beating. The imbecile who makes the same mistake again and again. The absolute dolt...that just does not learn.

But... if for no other reason than to not let scorpions across the world down I will dig deep. I will find the anger and the wrath that can get me out of this soup, and I WILL NOT BANG MY HEAD AGAINST THIS FUCKING WALL AGAIN.

AND I WILL DO IT WITHOUT CUTTING MYSELF!

Miss Margaret

When I was 10 I changed schools, moving from a coed school to an all girls school run by nuns. My life changed completely in many ways - someday I'll write more about that - but today I want to memorialize "Miss Margaret".

In my old school every teacher was called just that - "teacher". I still remember the long drawn out "Good Morning Teacher" we used to chorus every morning. In my new school I was perplexed to find that every teacher was to be addressed as "Miss ___". For someone for whom "Miss" was the title of an unmarried lady, it was difficult to adjust to called married women in their 40s and 50s "Miss". But I learned. (I never did adjust to calling strange girls "girly" - but more about that some other time)

Anyway, the English teacher in the 6th and 7th standards was "Miss Margaret". Those of you who like what I write can thank her, those who don't, can blame her, for she was the first person who made me think I could write what others would enjoy reading. She was the first person who gave me that thrill that runs through you when you create something and someone appreciates it. I liken it to what a mother must feel when someone appreciates her new born baby. [Mothers everywhere must be up in arms at my daring to compare the creation of a baby to the creation of a story... but though I've not had a child I think any one who has created something - whether a story, a painting or a song - must feel something of the same.]

Anyway, getting back on track once more, thank you Miss Margaret for opening my eyes to one of my greatest loves. I may have found my way without you - but I'm glad I didn't have to risk it!

My new year was even worse than I expected.

The run up wasn't so bad...I decided to have some games for people in office on the 30th. Spent the money I'd been saving to party on prizes for the winners. I had fun but had an unexpected client call that evening and ended up stuck in office till almost 9. Went home, and around 11 after dinner, decided I was too tired to study. That's when things started to go south.

I planned to wake up at 5 am and study for 4 hours, take 30 minutes to get ready and an hour to actually get there in time for the 10:30 paper. After all it was Business Statistics - and our professor had assured us that the test would be a
practical one in the computer lab. Aanndd, I am pretty good at stats and
excel... soooo....I went to sleep. Nothing wrong with the plan but I did not leave room for things to go wrong. Which considering that this is my life was a BIG mistake.

I woke up at 2:45 am when my phone rang. My little sister was on the
phone, sobbing as if her heart would break. She'd had another run in with
my folks. I tried to calm her down but with a flair for drama, second to
none (not even me), and without saying the actual words, she managed to convince me that her bags were packed to run away. Terrified and remembering my parents
"tyranny" from my "childhood" (more about that later) I tried to convince
her not to take any drastic decisions while she was emotional. Finally I
had to tell her that I had to hang up on her cos I was almost crying
myself. It was about 4 am at that time. After that I enjoyed an hour or
two of crying until I realized that it was almost 6 am and I had not
studied anything. Sooo... I started looking through my excel files, had a
bath, drove the almost 40 kms to college, screwed up the paper so badly
that I still can't bear to think about it, drove home in a daze and
collapsed on my sofa to welcome the new year.

-*-*-*-

Funny thing is there was just one person in Pune that I wanted to meet that
day. And on the list of all the people who wanted to meet me... that name
was conspicuously missing.

After all it's one thing to actually be able or unable to do something. But
able or unable wasn't the question. The question was about the wanting to
be able. Very mixed up I know, but unfortunately crystal clear to me.