Trials and Tribulations by Fire

 What is it about age or aging that is so traumatic? Is it the realization that after a certain age, you are automatically expected to conk off.  I turned 44 today.  It is a regular day. I would say, it is just another day. Except for strangers and virtual familiar faces wishing me all the goodness in this world.  Imagine if wishes became true as soon as you say them aloud.  For some reason I have believed that I will not live beyond 45 years of age. That gives me 1 more year in this world. Sigh. Sad one? Nah.  Relief. Actually, I am quite ready to take off even today. I have seen enough, done too much...achieved zilch and am tired.  All these years, somewhere there was a hope that something will work out in the end, making it all a happy ending. But, today, no no, sometime back, it just came to me that nothing is going to change. Nothing. Nobody is going to come for me.  My reality is going to remain the same. Always. Until I leave. I don't mean leave the situation...I don't w

Since the New Year, I have been in a weird mood. People who know me might nod furiously and say 'ya ya, she is like that'. Well, this is a different sort of weird.  I feel weird enough to shun some daily habits that I had imbibed, like doing rigorous Puja or cooking elaborate meals and so on. I no longer feel pressurized to be ritualistic or appear religious.  There is a certain waywardness in my mind. I do not feel like following certain rules. This statement might conjure up images of me cohorting with men of all hues in your mind. but, sadly, no, I do not mean promiscuity. I just mean the intense urge to just stay put and not follow any strictures or rules.    Somewhere between the New Year and the week after I stopped my urge to cling to the belief that God will take care of me and that a benevolent God is all I need to tide over life's ups and downs, though it seemed more like a plateau and absolutely no ups.  Do I mean the absence of an opportunity to throw a

Who watches a movie on Jan 1st? I do. I do. For the want of anything worthwhile to hold my attention, I got up early and after stuffing my face with an omelette and slurping some coffee, I started watching movies. I plan to watch atleast two, hence the plural usage. I like this time of the day. Calm. Quiet. No distractions. No disturbances. No duties. I am watching 'Colette' as I write this blog post. It is about a middle-aged writer Willy who marries a young Colette and after a while realizes that she has a natural talent for writing. I somehow felt so kicked by this whole idea, I started watching the movie, ignoring the pile of clothes lying in front of me, the ironed clothes begging to be arranged, and the maid who is showing signs of vanishing. Nada. I dont care what chores are pending. I want to watch. And I am going to watch.

Came back after receiving a almost crushing verdict. But, this is not something I have not known before. My eggs. Which has a direct correlation with things like my ego, my identity, and my self esteem.  I came back home, shed some tears, unloaded my agony on two applications and felt better after deactivating both. Whatsapp deleted, FB deactivated. Task over. Has my problem gone away? No. Its there in my head. It wont go easily.  I have no interest in interacting with anyone. I dont have anything to say to anyone. I dont want to listen to anyone. I just want to mope.  Why me? Why always me?  The bitterness of my interactions has left such a deep scar that everything I touch has become bitter and venomous. I feel like a reptile sometimes.  On top of this, I am expected to respond to two job offers. Do I even look like I care about taking either of them? I don't. This is not what I want. But, I need to. I have to. I must. But, this must is what is killing me. I tried many

Table for One was sent by the Publisher.  The book cover looked very interesting. Also, the plot about a lone woman travelling by herself was intriguing. A very different tale where the show-don't-tell rule has not been used at all. It is written in a linear manner, which gives an impression that the author is sitting and monotonously narrating the story to an audience.  I love travelling. I love stories for the same reason. They take me to different places, allow me to be different people. This book is apparently about Taara's journey to realize that self-love is an important aspect of life. There are times when one has to do what one does not want to. It is important to be real and honest and not succumb to external pressure and expectations. Taara's story is all about discovery. Travel to Europe with Taara and understand the importance of weaving in nuances in storytelling. On the lines of Queen, but with Europe as a backdrop, Table for One seems like a brave atte

This pain.  Searing through my mind, my brain, my heart, my cells.  Scorching and unrepenting, sucking the life force out of me.  It suffocates, holds me captive.  I turn around to see the source of my distress.  Inky blackness around.  I close my eyes once, willing this to vanish.  It remains, grinning devilishly.  This pain.  Wind knocked out from the body.  Eyes poured in.  Mind chilled with the intensity of an arctic storm.  Heart gouged out from its place.  What you achieve with one gaze Strong enough to cause tsunamis Light enough to float a feather This pain.  I bear it all in good grace Grin and carry on with my head held high Not to be knocked down by you Not to be razen again. Again.  This pain.  Time is a great healer, they said.  Time ran a smooth hand on my wounds, softening the blow you gave.  I stood up, dusted myself, built myself. You tore it all down, with just a gaze. The pain, that rushed into my cells.  The pain. Of hurt, of terror, of

Despondency... I am going down somewhere, like Alice went down the rabbit hole Words, I thought were my strength  Not I realized today No one wants to read what I write I am becoming despondent, frustrated, disillusioned Finding it hard to slog on, keep writing Wonder how people keep writing in the face of such rejections Multiple times, always... Wonder till when

If you have ever felt consumed by the need to know more about an author or get into their minds through their writing, you would perfectly understand my situation.  Amulya Malladi did this to me. I read all her books back to back within  couple of weeks.  A few I downloaded using my Kindle Unlimited subscription, a couple I purchased. I was so enamored by the lady's style of writing that I just had this weird compulsion to read everything I could lay my hands on. Easy to read, laid back yet fast paced, no mincing of words, her words felt like honey after the blatant abuse my mind had undergone after reading a few pieces of total shit.  I treated her books like little treats. To be consumed when I was down or had just completed a strenuous task. It did my spirits a lot of good. Be it "The Mango Season", "A House for Happy Mothers", "A Breath of Fresh Air", or "The Copenhagen Affair" I lapped up everything that Amulya offered.  Eac

There is thing about self-help books: most of them repackage existing facts. How smartly they pull this off makes all the difference. So is the case with 'The Queen of the Comeback' by Nidhika Bahl.   Author: Nidhika Bahl Name of the book: The Queen of the Comeback: 7 Ways for anyone to bounce back from life's obstacles Publisher: Black Card Books Genre: Self-Help/Personal Growth/Success Pages: 226 Here is what I think:  I got this book as a review copy from the publishers in exchange for an honest review. I read this book in spurts only because that was all I could manage to do at that time. Honestly. The book is divided into 7 chapters and the last chapter has 7 sections, each containing an inspiring tale of a survivor. Some famous names include Anurag Kashyap, Kanika Tekriwal, and Patricia Narayan. So, after I completed Chapter 1: The Wake-Up Call, I decided to take a break. I chewed on the ideas I had just read. After a few hours, I picked up the book