Buzz Off!

I am sick and tired and really speaking very angry with the entire bright, ever smiling, practical, and mostly self-designated wise clan of the world. Yes whatever. When I talk to you I feel I am reading a general knowledge book or the daily newspaper, where for your kind information most of the content is fudged and churned to convenience.

If all you can think of when the first showers of rains drench and cleanse equally, is the water cycle, the water table and all those hydro words and phrases, thank you very much, I learnt all of it in class 4 and then most decidedly gave up Science to take up Arts, just in case you did not know. So when it rains, I will stick to nostalgia, reminiscence, cuppa coffee and you are welcome not to join in. In fact I will only be glad to court my loneliness and charm my romantic heart and soul.

No I cannot be an action-reaction theory round the clock, there is something beyond me too, yes I love to step into other’s shoes and feel their pain, wipe their tears and then end up crying in their lap. Please stop finding reasons in the how, where, and why of me. I am OK being me, I am OK not having an identity, I am OK with being an insignificant mere mortal who has no accolades or medals to boast of, who never topped a university, who never wrote or danced or sang worth a record. I am OK wearing my old, ill-fitting, but makes me feel comfortable clothes and not get looked at even once, forget twice. I like looking at me in the mirror still, and guess what I can face myself, which is my litmus test and as long as I stand true to it I know I am OK.

I don’t boast of having read the critical writers of the old English or the post modern era, I read my share of Shantarams and I am absolutely beguiled by Hardy and Lawrence and they make me reach the penumbra and pinnacle equally, but you know what it is MY CHOICE and I LIKE IT THAT WAY. And yes I still listen to Sufi music and try to count the beats of Ek Taal in a tarana or thumri, which I know is passé by all your modern standards, but that is what makes me smile and that is what makes me jump up in glee and swirl around in a mystic ( and yes mystic is my fav word and I will use it in each of my post, I don't need your permission) trance. And guess what I do not what an audience. I am happy keeping myself me company.

I refuse, absolutely refuse to have any further discussions on this point. I will eat boiled aloo and sev at midnight, I will drink to my heart’s content only when I am angry or in pain and not just to ‘socialize’ (never understood what that means anyway), read and re-read Tess every year, sleep hugging my teddy, write letters and keep them in my closet, yearn and pine and treat the person I love like god almighty (even if he or she is far from loving me back ever, write sentimental poems as birthday gifts, drink double shots of espresso without sugar (and all you CCD and Barista guyz I KNOW espresso is black coffee and yes I AM a GIRL who drinks bitter black coffee i.e. coffee without milk and sugar....so STOP telling me that please), and cry because my heart feels the pain or even without any reason at all because you know what I feel like crying. And as long as I don’t ask you for a handkerchief, I believe you should be OK too, after all, be your wise, cold, brutal, emotionless, practical self and leave me to wallow and die in self pity. And yes you are not invited to my funeral either.

-Monica

PS: Yes I will call people I love honey, sweetheart, bachhcha, darling and all those sweety pie, sugar coated names and if I don’t call you that please note you probably don’t matter beyond the business or social circle and I can flash my ever dazzling smile at you even if I am muttering nothings under my breath. Believe you me (is that hep enough btw?) I am skilled in polished, fake, make you feel important communication skills, no questions asked and yes period. And it shall only give me utmost pleasure to address you by your first and last name, in which ever accent you like.