Preface : https://soumyavg.wordpress.com/2012/01/31/disclaimer/
Me and baby? What relativity eh? Seriously, I’m wondering too. Eventually, it seems like there’s a lot of relativity though. Not that I’ve, out of nowhere, started loving all those ‘cute’ baby photos or all those pink ‘n blue things of life. But things have definitely changed between me and the babies.
My bro always pulls my legs on how I used to check if the diaper is on before getting anywhere near my cousin’s child. I dont think anybody believes him on that now. It seems a near impossibility now coz I’ve gotten that intimate with the kid. Back then, I had told only him about how I used to do that. Nobody else holds a reason to believe it now. I dont even realise how much has change swept over me.
Its a wonderful kid. I cant say the ‘best’ coz I dont know many kids to make a comparison. She’s the only one I’ve ever known. Known the best! Tending to her, reaching out to hold her hand, coaxing her, yelling at her. I’m loving it all. Love the way she calls me ‘athey’. Amazingly, I kinda even miss her when she’s away at her grandma’s. For people who have known the callous me, aren’t these ‘interesting and new’ developments? Lol. Hell they are! And I cant even bring myself upto believing it.
With all the preconceptions of people around me, I’m very much disturbed by their assumptions and notions. Its so much a relief to see her and believe atleast she knows me only the way I’m to her; nice but easily angered. I wish if things could remain that way with her forever. With someone atleast, let me sneak out of all the prejudices. She’s growing, soon losing her innocence. Life and its prejudices aren’t far from her. And I’m worried. Ironically, I crave to see her grow up into a pretty girl, yet staying the apple of everybody’s eyes. She’s one such whom I’ve loved so much that it causes envy. It might even asphyxiate her. Worry gets recursive! (Read the previous post to make some sense of the last sentences)
She’s growing. Already at the computer! Lol.
How much can you like something or someone? It is only as much as making somebody else jealous of your like. I have liked a lot of people in my life and still like a lot more of them. But then, now it feels like I’m on the nth degree of it. How plausible could that be? Can ‘like’ or ‘love’ have a saturation point? Seems like they can. Do not confuse with satiety. At the nth degree of love, (like replaced by love, coz all references herein are made to people and not to things), I am not done loving anybody. But the love feels saturated. Like, more of love can make no difference. Being so intimate to someone that moving any closer will only crush the person’s soul. As though, a bit of gap wouldn’t harm, but instead give us some air to breath. Loving people so much makes it really hard to let them take a step away from you. Taking a decision for themselves, missing out on wishing you on your special day, unexpected delaying of a scheduled meeting up. Every single one of them makes you feel like your entire world collapses there! Don’t label this obsession already. I am not talking about how obsessed am I with people.
There’s a state in between. Between love and obsession. Between hatred and falling apart. A stupid crappy state! You don’t budge. You want it done implies you WANT it done. No matter how much you push yourself into the realisation of things as simple as they are, it always seems complex and ciphered. You dont read along the plain lines of life and complain how bleak it is between the lines. As ever, simple things get complex in frail fingers like mine. Its not easy to understand straight aspects of life, when you struggle to define its implications symbolising lives! Not catching up often, missing to reciprocate wishes, forgetting to look back and failing to notice are not things that ends the world. But then, knowing is not enough. Never enough.
I love people. Have always loved them and will always do. Loved enough to make others jealous. People envy my love!
P.S. I am not in ‘love’ as in ‘love’. So please don’t ring me up and yell at me, “Why didnt you tell me earlier??”, “Dont you have the sense to keep things private?”, “Tell me who who??”. Lol. Dont do that to me coz its not what you think it is.
All my life was an attempt in vain to be an iconoclast. I did not think being one is easy. But I assumed it was possible for me. But the futility of my efforts is depressing. Futility isn’t absolute though. I haven’t yet met with a fiasco. Its just minor flaws that reflect major shortcomings to what I have always wanted. So now what do you say? Is my loss redeemable yet?
My mom read the blog the other day. And her obvious worry! What on earth is my never ending saga of mourning and pain about? She wonders what have I lost so much in life. She’s right about that. I haven’t ‘lost’ anything in life. Life is good. As good and as smooth as it should be. For an average girl of my age, requirements are few and expectations are huge. And for me, they never matter for they are all taken care of. Wants and needs are the way I define it for myself. If I call a want to my need, it gets done as my most immediate need. All thanks to my family and people around me.
But what if I am the illusion myself. Practicality ruling over me, often I filter my wants and needs. What I desperately need gets pushed under my fancies, presumably too irrelevant to be even thought of for a second time.
I get that. Even without looking at your eyes, its obvious what you are thinking. When people have totally nothing to do, may be they can think so much and write so much and drive others nuts! Lol. I agree. I have totally nothing to do. Hence I think. Hence I write. So with you. You dont have anything to do. You dont think yet. You dont write yet. Hence you read. And hence you pull your hair. Who should be blamed?
She aint my lucky charm nor am I hers. But luck is that single word I’d relate to her, over and over. It was long back. Long long back, when we were too small kids to even know the implications of being lucky. She called me lucky once. And hence started our distance. For a long time, I thought she took me for what I’m. Just the way I’m. But then, I didnt appear so transparent to her. Well, not her fault that I blackened myself. 🙂
A childhood friend, who grew more than to be a cousin. But then, we could have gotten better. Thinking of those tiny nasty things that we did…Lol. Wish I could make them public! She was always the good girl. Soft spoken, gentle, beautiful and loving. The perfect ritualistic orthodox innocent Brahmin girl anybody would love to call theirs. I wasn’t jealous that she’s all that. But it really got on my nerves when people compared me with her. How she helped her mom in the kitchen. How she respected her dad. How she took care of her flowing hair. How she obeyed elders. How she never spoke back. How she ‘that’. How she ‘this’. Ah! It was exhausting. And what does she say about it! “Soumya, eppadi di mudiyarathu unnala!”. Lol. She thinks high about me. She would have loved to rebel the way I do. Talk back the way I talk. Not obey, for once. Not seek advice, making a decision. She still likes me the way I am and the entire world is pushing me to be her.
I can foresee that. How my life is yet to be pushed to be a facsimile of hers. But it doesn’t matter. For I know what she is. What she wants. For the pious, loving, caring, obedient daughter she is, she’d also want to pull a prank on her dad. Fight with her mom for days. Sneak into her brother’s phone. Yay! It aint just me.
The two decades of
our lives, changes have swept all over us. So much in her. So much more in me. Beyond those infinite distances that has grown between us, I still owe her a rightful place in my life. When my dad scolds me for grabbing the glass from her and sipping it with my lips before I return, I should always be able to say, “Lakshmi thaane appa!”. My lucky lechu!
Sorrow rings, doesn’t it? Inside your soul, inside your brain, inside your very self. It rings in monotonous yelps. In everybody around me. In everything around me.
Everything needs a reason. So is my theory. The above paragraph is the reason. (It is my yesternight’s craziest ever random rambling. Lol.) And the cause is my new action plan. That is something like, one day a post, about a family member. I can be quite confident about writing that coz hardly one or two of my family reads my blog. The reason, elaborated, is that I mumble inaudible cries and pathos and call it ‘my blog’, whereas I actually want to write proper sensible stuff and feel satisfied. The first paragraph was an aftermath of one such attempt. So were my many previous posts. So finally, I need to anchor my ship somewhere and relax before setting of for this long exhausting voyage. And my family that is.
My dad was born into a family of eight kids, which makes it four brothers and three sisters to him. And leaves me with so many uncles and so many aunts and their families, completing my ‘big’ family with so much to talk about. My mom is sibling-rich too. Two sisters and one little brother. Stay along. And read about my whole family before you wonder where I got my crazy streak from!