I had lost a best friend. It seemed like I had lost my right arm or something. My life was at a standstill. I had gone numb. My heart had gone totally cold and it felt as if it will never warm up to anyone again. I kept staring at his contact no. on my cell’s address book and kept reading his forwarded messages from months ago for hours, hoping that maybe the ferocity of my gaze would make him think of me, maybe for a nanosecond or something. Maybe make him remember that I was his friend, once upon a time. All I did was weep and let myself get lost in all our memories together. I never thought I could laugh again. No. It seemed too childish after feeling intensity of the pain that was going through me. Laughter seemed like a distant dream. All I was capable of doing was wallow in despair over his loss.
In short, I was totally acting like a drama queen.
Isn’t it bugging when all you want to do is lose yourself to the misery and depression and dive into the oblivion of his memories is exactly the time when all the funny things have to happen around you. Doesn’t it screw your mind when you’re trying to act as if you’ve just suffered from a mental blow and need some happiness-building time-out is the time when your family leaves no stone unturned to make you go nuts over their behavior and make you join in, not coz you want to forget your sadness but to kick their asses and shut them up in their rooms so that you could go back to my *depressed* stupor happily?
No, they’re not trying to make me forget about all this and I am 100% sure about this coz –
a) They don’t exactly know anything; I don’t share my personal lives with my parents
b) Even if they knew, they CANNOT try to help me out of it. I have inherited my parents genes of getting all scared and nervous when someone around you has a mental breakdown. We cannot console anyone to save our lives and we try as much as we can to stay as far away as possible from such emotional people.
c) My family is a cartoon show. So all this funny incidents - it’s routine!
One such incident would be when I was taking a nap in my room and my granny comes in with a bowl full of some revolting looking muddy thingy. I thought it must be one of the things she eats. God knows how she even makes foods which look like they’ve just come out of ashtrays and cow dung! And worst part? She eats it happily. So I went back to sleeping and dozed off in a second. Next thing I know, I’m staring at my bathroom mirror yelling my head off at my reflection and my bro and sis are laughing their asses off at my oh-so-funny face. I stormed into my granny’s room and bellowed “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” pointing at my face. And she just went, “you’re supposed to wash your face honey”. As if I wouldn’t have guessed that much already!
“BUT WHY IN THE NAME OF GOD HAVE YOU PUT THIS…THIS…WHATSITS? THIS…COWDUNG ON MY FACE?” I yelled?
“To make your skin glow, of course” she said innocently like it’s totally natural to stamp a cow’s excreta on your face! “and this is not cow dung, silly, it’s a mixture of very effective herbs. I have mixed neem – ”
“I DON’T FREAKING CARE WHATEVER IT IS. JUST GET IT OFF MY FACE. HOW DO I DO THAT?”
“Wash you face with soap honey” she said patiently as if trying to explain to a retard that 2 + 2 = 4.
“But it’s all dry and it’s not coming out” I said trying to prise it off with my hands. “Wash it with soap and you’ll look just beautiful. All those pimples you have, they’ll go away in a trice.”
“UGHHH.” I went away from her room, giving up.
Only next minute, I shouted yet again at the condition of my face. Big red blotches and huge button sized zits had appeared on my face and I looked like I had eczema or maybe small pox! This time my granny had already left the house and gone to her friends place before I could shower her with my fury.
I couldn’t leave my house for another 2 days after that incident during which time my mom tried everything she could to reduce my pimples.
Another such incident was just this morning –
Our housemaid is getting married and hence, she’s on a leave since a week and so I am the one who has to do the entire household work which includes – getting up at 7 in the morning, make breakfast, dusting, making food, washing dishes, sweeping, moping, making dinner, again dishes and getting tired and falling asleep instantly.
So, I had just completed dusting and I was resting a bit (no lunch or dinner. Wedding time. Thank god for that) and my sister comes up to me all nicely and asks me if I wanted some help. Yeah, she realizes it after a whole week. Especially when there’s no work to do in the first place! How neat! And I said there’s nothing to do but she could get me a glass of water and straighten my hair for the wedding after I’ve had a bath and she readily agreed. Something was fishy!
“What do you want?” I asked her. “Nothing” she replied back instantly.
“Fine, I need a loan. I’ll return it to soon.” She said hurriedly.
“How much?” I asked still in suspicion. She never does my work if she needs a loan. She usually just takes it from my wallet and leaves a note in it about when she’ll return. “Not much. Just 200”
“No” I said. She didn’t even argue. She just said “fine” snappily and went out of the room… and came back again.
“WHAT?” I asked, peeved.
“Ok. Listen. I’ve got to tell you something. But you gotta trust me I didn’t mean to..I mean…”
“Just spit it out, will you?” I said exasperated but excited at hearing what she had to say. Maybe it was something related to her love life or something. She never tells me anything.
“Fine!” she took a deep breath and then went, “I-didn’t-mean-to-but-when-I-was-using-your-earphones-last-night-and-there-was-this-knot-which-wouldn’t-come-loose-so-I-pulled-it-a-bit-too-hard-and-it-broke!” in one breath. And then she removed my earphones from her pocket and I let out a wail. One of the wires had broken away totally leaving only one part of the earphone and coppery wires were peeping out of the other broken part of it. I was horrorstruck.
“YOU KILLED IT” I shouted. “HOW DARE YOU?”
“I didn’t mean to do it. It was just an accident. It just happened –”. But she couldn’t complete the rest of her sentence coz I had advanced on her with a ruler in my hand and she was running now. I caught her by the hem of her sleeves and hit her hard with the ruler. She pulled the ruler out of my hand and snapped it in two. I looked at her murderously and all hell broke loose. I pulled her hair very hard and gave her a punch in her stomach. She grabbed my hand and twisted it until the pain became unbearable. I bit her in the other hand with became red and started swelling. Seeing that, she lost it completely and ran towards me with a stick and hit me on my arm which totally left a mark. We fought for at least 15minutes until mom came into our room and witnessing the scene [which didn’t help much owing to the fact that the pillows were strewn across the floor, one of her sleeve had torn in half, my arm was bleeding, one of her tooth was lying on my mother’s feet(she didn’t notice that, I guess) both our hair were a complete mess giving us a look of two people who had just been giving electric current, her hair was still in my hand and she had frozen in the act of kicking me] she grounded us for a week!
Pretty entertaining, eh?
My arm’s still hurting as I write this, sneakily (grounded includes no using computer) but she has gone away for the wedding for a whole day and wouldn’t realize anything. Though, she’s smart enough to hide the T.V. cable in her closet) but I just realized something while I was punching my sister on the face in the morning, and I had to share it with you guys. Especially Anand…this is your *comic relief*…enjoy!
I realized that, depression is way overrated and why waste your time in pain and drama when you can enjoy the better things in life? Even if it means having a fight with your sister or getting a face massage from your granny. Why not live and enjoy? Why act like a zombie? Why die?