It’s a bad day. It always shall be so. It’s a Sunday. It’s the one which leads to Monday and I hate it. Wonder if Saturday passed on the buck to Sunday and it realized Monday is what’s next but couldn’t help it. Well, that life Mr/Mrs. Sunday…and I know you have learnt to live with my hate as I have learnt seeing you through.
Seeing through a Sunday is the toughest. By evening seven, am all down, with thoughts of the approaching week. I am not the one to blame. I work as a developer in IT and my weeks are very hectic. It usually always happens that by the time I have my dinner, the clock marks the start of another day. I can’t help looking forward to the weekends. Saturday I am the happiest and Sundays I am the saddest.
Yesterday was fun. Two movies, one with my lappy and the other with my friends at a multiplex, and a three hour success story at a game of card made me sleep at five in the morning without any regrets. Oh yes, I searched for a rented apartment to move into, with my friends. I almost forgot that. How can I do that when I am famous being a lazy Garfield types. I certainly scored a ton there, looking out for “To-Let” banners and calling up people, under the sun, in the summer, from morning eleven until three in the afternoon.
Today was Ok. Finally I was able to set up my new anonymous blog up and running with three posts on the very first day. Not bad I guess. Hope my ever present lacking of consistency doesn’t put me down. Tomorrow I have a presentation and my team expects me to deliver it on a Monday. Presently I am in no mood to prepare for it. And it’s already dinner time by normal standards. Guess, a few mugs of beer would put me back onto the right track. :)
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Becoming-Me
I am writing this because of a competition set up by Brandi. The competition is all about things that you faced that changed you. I have my own beliefs and am a self-made person. I play by my own rules. So let me share with you all, an incident, which impacted my life in a big way. And here I go…
It was the year 2000 in the month of June. I had passed my 12th in science and as like all others, joined a tutorial class to prepare for my engineering exams. One might say I was lucky to have the same girl I thought I loved, in my batch. I was 18. I liked her and thought that to be love. I was too mature to know what a word love might account for and stand. We were good, talking in the library for ten minutes every day after the class. It was just those ten minutes per day for me and for us. Things flowed. With not a single worry in the world about the future of our relationship, I was right there enjoying the rest of my hours happily with my friends.
Things turned bad. Their parents got to know about it. They overheard a telephonic conversation between us…LOL. And eventually my parents too got to know about it. We both, used to be neighbors. So it was easy communication. She reacted. She wanted to stop it all. After all, she didn’t have the guts to say it, back at home, that she liked me. Instead she preferred saying that I was the one always trying to push things and was harassing her. Hence I don’t blame it on her parents. And as of her, it could have been anything…her age, her fear, her fake self or simply her.
Frankly, facing all that was easy. I wasn’t much into the relationship. All that the climax had was a phone call from her shouting, abusing, angry, conservative mother and a few words from the girl about the end of our relationship. I was fine. My friends said I was doing well. Hardly did I ever guess that I was in for something very big back at my own place. My parents reacted in a way quite unusual. I have always seen them as being very liberal and independent kinds. But alas, I was in for hell. My mother accused me of things I had never done. She branded my character as bad. I had to hear things which used to put me to shame. And after having said all the bad that she could have, she stopped talking to me for about a month. My father used to serve me the food and I used to have it all alone. That was all I had for a family for a month. I survived and the credit goes to my friends. I used to spend the night somehow at the house and with the day break, used to move out to my friends place. That was where I used to stay the whole day. It was the worst of the times I have ever faced. It was back then, when their behavior made my first affair with the tears happen.
With things settling down for the better after a month, I looked back on the happenings. They had every right to react and say and so did they. Would have been better had they taken it a bit less seriously and considered the situation from an eighteen year old. What disturbed me the most were the things mom had said about us. A girl was involved and no one believed me. I tried at my best of levels to make them understand. And I failed miserably. It was simple. My parents didn’t understand.
I got my lesson. Not everyone understands you. And at times it can be your parents. And then it’s the hardest to accept. We all love them and so do they. But they are as human as we are. The incident changed all about me and my home. I never felt like sharing anything with them. After nine years, my mother today understands that back then, she had overdone it. But I had received it in a way I can never forget. It’s hard for them and for me. I am still working on removing the impression off my mind.
From that day on, I never expect anyone to understand or believe me. If someone does, it’s great and if doesn’t, it’s acceptable and humane. Cheers!
It was the year 2000 in the month of June. I had passed my 12th in science and as like all others, joined a tutorial class to prepare for my engineering exams. One might say I was lucky to have the same girl I thought I loved, in my batch. I was 18. I liked her and thought that to be love. I was too mature to know what a word love might account for and stand. We were good, talking in the library for ten minutes every day after the class. It was just those ten minutes per day for me and for us. Things flowed. With not a single worry in the world about the future of our relationship, I was right there enjoying the rest of my hours happily with my friends.
Things turned bad. Their parents got to know about it. They overheard a telephonic conversation between us…LOL. And eventually my parents too got to know about it. We both, used to be neighbors. So it was easy communication. She reacted. She wanted to stop it all. After all, she didn’t have the guts to say it, back at home, that she liked me. Instead she preferred saying that I was the one always trying to push things and was harassing her. Hence I don’t blame it on her parents. And as of her, it could have been anything…her age, her fear, her fake self or simply her.
Frankly, facing all that was easy. I wasn’t much into the relationship. All that the climax had was a phone call from her shouting, abusing, angry, conservative mother and a few words from the girl about the end of our relationship. I was fine. My friends said I was doing well. Hardly did I ever guess that I was in for something very big back at my own place. My parents reacted in a way quite unusual. I have always seen them as being very liberal and independent kinds. But alas, I was in for hell. My mother accused me of things I had never done. She branded my character as bad. I had to hear things which used to put me to shame. And after having said all the bad that she could have, she stopped talking to me for about a month. My father used to serve me the food and I used to have it all alone. That was all I had for a family for a month. I survived and the credit goes to my friends. I used to spend the night somehow at the house and with the day break, used to move out to my friends place. That was where I used to stay the whole day. It was the worst of the times I have ever faced. It was back then, when their behavior made my first affair with the tears happen.
With things settling down for the better after a month, I looked back on the happenings. They had every right to react and say and so did they. Would have been better had they taken it a bit less seriously and considered the situation from an eighteen year old. What disturbed me the most were the things mom had said about us. A girl was involved and no one believed me. I tried at my best of levels to make them understand. And I failed miserably. It was simple. My parents didn’t understand.
I got my lesson. Not everyone understands you. And at times it can be your parents. And then it’s the hardest to accept. We all love them and so do they. But they are as human as we are. The incident changed all about me and my home. I never felt like sharing anything with them. After nine years, my mother today understands that back then, she had overdone it. But I had received it in a way I can never forget. It’s hard for them and for me. I am still working on removing the impression off my mind.
From that day on, I never expect anyone to understand or believe me. If someone does, it’s great and if doesn’t, it’s acceptable and humane. Cheers!
A Welcome Agenda.
Welcome to my life.
Finally I stopped posting and closed my blog. I made the mistake of sharing my blog with my friends and people. Not that I had to face anything but the fact that I had to think before I would post was annoying. I didn’t have the freedom. I missed being ME. I missed being arrogant. I missed being straight forward. I missed saying what I really wanted to.
And now with my new identity (proudly a fake one….as in the name), I am all set to post daily, freely and happily whatever I feel and what’s on and wrong and right with my life.
No idea if I shall be having any readers, but if I do get one or some, I am happy to share. My life has always been a roller-coaster ride. I live in two extremes, 0 or a 1. I am not a moderate sorts but a highly reactive, hitting back with all I have, always failing with glory and a passionate soul. Cheers to me and welcome you all…if you exist…to my real inside secret world.
Finally I stopped posting and closed my blog. I made the mistake of sharing my blog with my friends and people. Not that I had to face anything but the fact that I had to think before I would post was annoying. I didn’t have the freedom. I missed being ME. I missed being arrogant. I missed being straight forward. I missed saying what I really wanted to.
And now with my new identity (proudly a fake one….as in the name), I am all set to post daily, freely and happily whatever I feel and what’s on and wrong and right with my life.
No idea if I shall be having any readers, but if I do get one or some, I am happy to share. My life has always been a roller-coaster ride. I live in two extremes, 0 or a 1. I am not a moderate sorts but a highly reactive, hitting back with all I have, always failing with glory and a passionate soul. Cheers to me and welcome you all…if you exist…to my real inside secret world.
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