I have been working for 10 years now and although it may not
seem a lot but I’ve slogged all this while, tried doing complete justice to
every facet, treated it like it’s my life. I have taken so much stress that I’ve
lost hair and feel weird about how I look.
I have tried being fair and kept shut about things that have
bothered me. Then why cannot I get that tiny bit of recognition that I so want.
Why do I have to struggle for everything- money, respect, recognition, even
acknowledgement. I might be doing something wrong and I have no idea what.
It's my birthday- again! So
let's forget all about that and write what I came here to..
I have been feeding birds for years now. Everyday after my pooja (prayers), I
scatter a palmful of lentils and some rice on the balcony and wait for birds,
mostly pigeons to rush to them.
While I was in Delhi, for almost 7 years, these little guys had learnt the
timings. They'd already be waiting for me when I went out and by the time I was
leaving the city, some of them had even begun eating out of my hand.
I have been in Bangalore for a year and a half now and like always, scattered
the grains everyday- only to see them go waste, until lately. A few days back
when I left out food for the birds, I saw a pigeon fly to it. While I waited
behind the balcony door, I somehow could sense it's anxiety while pecking at
these. I smiled to myself, somewhat with relief even. The next day there were
more of these birds so I increased the quantity and now there are about 12
pigeons that greet me in the morning.
I felt relived because I've associated home with them, it's like my soul has
accepted the place and this is it's way of communicating this to me. It's
amazing, the sort of peace I feel when I see them pecking at the food I leave
out for them and the joy when I wake up S to watch that scene with me is
I guess I am finally content now, from the inside..
I cannot deny the fact that I’ve been in love quite a few
times. And it has never been the casual sort of love, on the contrary it’s been
the intense kinds where I have mostly wanted to spend the rest of our lives
I first fell in love when I was probably 17 years old. We
were best friends in school and the irony is that we began dating only after we
moved to different cities, meeting just once a year. Despite all that, it
lasted 6 years and came very close to ending the way we wanted it to. That
never happened and I was left with a lot of bitterness for a long time to come.
I swore to myself, (the way we do when our hearts get broken for the first
time), that I would never fall in love, never date, but mostly I learnt that I
will never compromise what I wanted to be for anyone- and that was my first
lesson in love.
The promise didn’t last long and before I knew it, I was
dating again. Again in different cities, hardly meeting each other. Countries
changed and breakups happened. This time however it was different, for once it
was mutual so there were no tears as such, just a hollow feeling that you get
when you revert to being single after years. Obviously I’d matured and things
were easier- or so I thought.
The next one was sort of weird and am still not sure if I
was seeing him. Stupid as it may sound, I actually didn’t know. I had been
terribly attracted to this person for years but always thought that I was
totally out of his league. Again different cities (which had become so my
thing- I could compartmentalize my life, have my career, my own set of friends
and not be answerable to anyone, rather bound by anything), but it was much
more intense than anything I’d ever experienced. At one point I thought that I
could never have a normal relationship after him, I’d become so used to not
talking for months, or zero expectations that I had begun believing that’s
probably how it worked. I had too much of pride and ego to even question what
was happening. When this one ended, I thought my life would end and it didn’t.
The wall I thought I’d built around myself came crashing down and I just went
Not for long I must say! I began dating yet again and the
similarity was so acute to the previous one that I thought that if I went
through the trauma again, I might just collapse. So when S asked me out, I
simply said yes. We were very good friends, he treated me like china, always
took care of me and tolerated all my tantrums. I assumed that if he was soo
good to me as a friend, he would definitely treat me well as his partner. I was
starving for a normal relationship, where you could call the person anytime you
wanted to, where you didn’t have to hide behind the wall and he gave me that
and much more. The doubts I had about ever being in love again- without pride
or ego and selflessly have long been shattered because that’s the kind of love
I received and I simply had to reciprocate it.
The reason am writing the much hidden story of my life is
- - I have wanted to come out in the open for a very long time.
- - I couldn’t care less of what people think of me
- But mostly because whenever I've dated someone, I've never confessed of it in public. It's been like hiding it, and not telling
about it to anyone. So when I read someone on insta of how she had fallen in
love and couldn't care less what people thought of her, how she showed her
excitement about meeting that person, it made me so happy.
I realized that love
is not a thing to hide. When you give so
much of yourself to a person, there is nothing to be ashamed of it. You
were young, you made mistakes and you learnt or maybe didn’t but these will be
with you for the rest of your life and mostly you’ll look back at them only with
fondness- I do..
Maybe I will always be an outsider. Outsider to jokes, to
bonding, friends, colleagues, relatives, everything..
I have never managed to make close friends, people never
like me at first instance and mostly everyone gets inhibited by that invisible
wall I seem to have created around myself. I make progress and then pushed
back again. I move one step forward and end up in square one. I try to be kind
and patient, maybe too much so, and then taken for granted.
I learn, only to forget as quickly. And then there’s no
denying the fact that it hurts terribly..
The "happiness" clippings make me feel soo good.. :) So I just thought I'd write things that make me happy:
- I feel overwhelmed by what I feel for him, its amazing to be in love with exactly the right person..
- I will live by the sea, maybe later in life..
- I was talking to Ma today and she said she didn't realise how quickly we grew up, she still thinks of us as little kids..
- Writing makes me happy