Resentment.

Resentment.

I don’t know why I married this thing in my bed. She doesn’t have brains. Doesn’t have the looks either. Doesn’t make money. Has a voice louder than those drills going in my neighbor’s backyard. I look over at the sleeping form next to me; chameleon-eyes open like she’s always watching me. She has these big eyes I used to find beautiful and luminous once but now, all they do is follow me around, grotesquely.

I am a henpecked husband.

I cannot even remember how long I have been married to Her. It disgusts me to even say the name. to think that I wanted a home and a child, or maybe two, with Her, one day. She’s not who I married and she has completely changed. Recession hit and she – very voluntarily and very comfortably – pulled off her socks and curled up permanently on the couch, just watching and being a pain in my neck. She acts like she’s doing me a favor when she gets me breakfast in bed. She lords it over me when she’s folding and putting away piles of my laundry. I’ve never asked her to do any of it, but she acts like she has this chip on her ugly, hunched and emaciated shoulder and uses it against me at every opportunity. I hate being stuck with her indoors all day. Fucking Corona. It had to happen now, now when I was on the verge of going on this business trip to Amsterdam alone. Now, when I’d have a few peaceful days all to myself.

She makes unnecessary commentary when I talk to my friends on the phone. She tells them not to call on the weekends – her voice shrill in the background, making me feel like I would bleed from my ears – saying she wants me to herself and she tries to sabotage my two-decade long friendship with my best friend. We had a go at each other the other day. The rabid cunt thinks I would let her treat me this way, does she? She thinks I don’t deserve her, and she’s right because no one does. Stupid, freaking, crazy bitch. How I wish I could turn back time and ensure this marriage had never happened.

I don’t even remember taking a pillow and stifling her till her writhing body goes still and her silent screams fade away to silence, blissful silence.

A Total Bloodbath

A Total Bloodbath

I cannot keep quiet any longer.

People love to hate on doctors in India. We’re termed as moneymongers, bigots and a whole lot of offensive things I don’t want to get into. Which is fine. I’m sure haters exist for the sole purpose of entertainment. That’s fine too.

What isn’t okay with me is the fact that people think it’s completely normal to beat people up.

I come from a state where the the ruling body happens to be headed by a tyrant, who uses power to uplift one religion and appease its followers, while shaming the other. There have been incidents, documented on video and in the papers, of a certain house of worship condemning the other religion and asking for blood. Why am I talking about this? If you’ve read the news or been on Twitter, you’d notice that the doctors attacked and stoned haven’t been given protection. Security hasn’t been tightened. I wonder if things would have been different if there was a bit of a role-reversal. The cops just stood and watched, the mob came and beat doctors up, and the CM was busy inaugurating hotels and she never paid heed to the situation.

I’ve had situations were people have abused me because apparently I didn’t know a thing. It’s not true.

Doctors take the Hippocratic oath, when they graduate. You’re bound by duty and humanity to treat patients and never discriminate. My dad, who’s had a thirty year long career as an ophthalmologist, gives free treatment on Wednesdays, including free surgery and free medication. All of this goes overlooked. No good deed, actually, goes unpunished. People never thank doctors when treatments are successful but they get a huge mob or two, or a million, to beat us up when things go wrong.

And everyone out here is making it all about politics not realizing that all doctors have ever wanted was an ounce of respect and to not be killed on the job.

Also, Bengal has a lot of illegal immigrant Bangladeshis, and they’re the reason why there’s so much bloodshed in the state. Although the border is seemingly under the control of the Central Government, strangely enough things don’t work that way in Bengal. There have been cow smuggling incidents and funnily enough, people aren’t allowed to vote – the ruling party has minions at their disposal that ensures that the voting system is tampered with. And Bengal is quickly turning into Bangladesh too.

Which brings me to the incident that happened a couple days ago – doctors took to the streets to protest but the violence has managed to spill over and spread to the BDS students. You cannot protest, you cannot vote, you cannot have an opinion and if your patient dies despite your having followed protocol, you’re going to be killed because that’s the right thing to do. Why? Because you’re a second generation doctor and you deserve to be stoned to death. Several doctors have resigned and we are going to face a shortage in doctors because no one wants to die serving people.

This is British Rule all over again, except that this time the tyrants are both illiterate and abusive. Which to me, is the deadliest combination that can ever happen. The worst part is that people that don’t live here, that don’t understand what’s going on, are the ones with the strongest opinions against all that the people of Bengal stand for. Our cops aren’t on our side, you guys. The hardest reality that hit me with the force of a speeding train was the fact that the cops never made any arrests. The CM has them on a string and they do her bidding. I wish the police would for once, grow a pair and make their own unadulterated decisions. Whoever makes a mistake, should be punished. Whoever is innocent, should be spared. It should not be based on your religion or your race or your political beliefs. If you’re in power, please be just. Don’t be an appeaser.

How difficult is that?

Making Love To You 

Making Love To You 

Ever seen people get high on marijuana? They seem to be in a trance. They also can’t seem to have enough. 

That’s pretty much what it feels like, being with you. There’s this constant craving. This constant need to be close to you. This deep-rooted, insatiable thirst. This inexplicable feeling. I’ve never known my body would ever respond this way. I didn’t know emotions like this even existed. I didn’t know so much, until you. 

You make me want to do things I’ve never imagined myself doing. Like making you breakfast, for instance. I was the kind of woman that didn’t want to settle, but you make me want to kind of have an army of children. All miniature versions of you, brown-eyed, freckly, dimpled, even-toothed. All of them soft-spoken, kind, loving. 

Oh, how I love you! 

Everything about you is beautiful. Those hands. Those eyes. Everything you do, and everything you say. The way you hold me and the way you hold a conversation. When we make love, it’s like every love song come to life. It’s like seeing sounds and hearing colors, it’s as intense, it’s just as magical as that high people say they get when smoking up. Only this kind of high comes with zero side effects.  And all of this makes me wish it lasted forever. You know? I don’t like being the one that gets thrown out unceremoniously after you’re done with her. I don’t like being scheduled for calls. I don’t like you turning away from me, while I lie there, naked and ashamed. And look at the ceiling and the fan wishing I were up there hanging from a noose. Just so I didn’t have to watch you turn away from me and talk to her on the phone. If she was all you needed, you shouldn’t have fucked me over. That’s not love anymore what you feel for her – because if it were, nothing would have shaken you. Remember how distance makes the heart grow fonder? 

You’ve never loved me and I’m okay with that. But did you love the other woman either? 

(Found this in my drafts and decided to post it. My Gosh. This is way out of my comfort zone.)

Monday Mood Swings

Monday Mood Swings

Jitters. Cold feet. Sleepless nights. Silly little fights. With this poor mum of mine. The rituals. The customs. The Goddamn fish. The long ass lists. The crying over clothes, the unsolicited advice you didn’t ask for. Unfinished chores. The long hours. The cramping because it’s that time of the month, ugh. Over-caffeinated. Tired. Sneezy as heck.

Let me take a deep breath.

Instagram DM: Hey, I’m doing okay. Thanks for asking.

I guess the problem with being a sunny ball of sunshine is that nobody understands that you’re human too. That you’ve got your good days and your bad days. That you need some time off from being their Agony Auntie somedays.

Twitter DM: I’m okay, what’s new with you!?

Sometimes I wanna throw my phone away and breathe for a little while. Play some shit ass music that I actually like. My phone is nearly five months old and the battery capacity is at ninety eight percent, is that all right? It’s driving me mad and it’s driving me wild.

iMessage: No, haha. I’m not mad at you. I’m fine. Stop asking.

I just wanna grab a pillow and go to sleep. Maybe get myself a sensory deprivation tank or something. Or maybe go home to him and cuddle with him. The way his neck smells is just so comforting. Get a pizza and watch some Netflix and go to sleep.

Snapchat: Hey, sorry. It took me a while to reply to your text. What’s up? You broke up with your guy? That’s bad. Let’s talk about it.

I’m dying. I really need a break from this shit.

This, or That?

This, or That?

Are you a late riser, or do you wake up early?

Do you like it black, or do you add some milk to your coffee?

Are you a cat person, or a dog person, or neither?

Are you a follower or are you more of a leader?

Do you get in and out of relationships like it means nothing?

Were you a wild one when you were an early-twenty-something?

When you break up, do you constantly bash your ex?

Or are you forgiving and only focus on what’s coming next?

Do you hold on to the past like it were your first born?

What kind of music do you like – Blake Shelton, or maybe even Korn?

Are you sweet or are you freaking shady?

Are you a polite Tweeter or do you subtweet like crazy?

Is your Instagram all filled with selfies?

Or do you take time to post other shiz?

Are you type A or more of type B?

Introvert, extrovert, “ambivert” maybe?

Do you read for the sake of reading?

Or do you actually devour your paperback because it helps in healing?

Are you comfortable being yourself?

Or do you always put on a show for their sakes?

Are you this, or are you that?

What kind of a person are you, beneath that facade you wear like a hat?

When Should You Seek Help?

When Should You Seek Help?

So, one morning you’re gonna wake up and BAM, you’re thirty. And you have this huge panic attack and you don’t know who to call. You’re scared and you can’t breathe and you have zero clue about what you should be doing next. So what do you do? You see your Ambien bottle and down the whole thing. And the next thing you know, you’re in a hospital bed, sore from the emergency stomach wash.

You don’t want that, now, do you?

So what do you do to keep this from happening? You seek help. Before it’s too late and you’re in an unfixable mess.

What are the ‘red flags’?

Seasonal affective disorder is so sneaky you won’t even know when it’s blossomed into full blown chronic depression, that lasts all day, everyday, round the clock.

It goes to bed with you, lies awake with you, and when you are asleep, it haunts you, and it wakes up with you. It’s worse than your shadow because at least your shadow fades in the darkness, but this guy? He grows even stronger.

If you’ve lost focus, if you don’t like leaving your bed and if you don’t feel passionate about anything anymore, that’s when you know it’s starting. Many women just ignore these little things as PMS, and try to shove it all under the rug by calling it a mood swing issue, and their partners agree, but OH NO, it’s so much worse than that.

People talk about World Mental Health Day and yada yada a lot, without actually implementing what they talk about.

• ARE YOU EVEN HAPPY?

If you can answer this question without lying to yourself, and you’ve answered “yes”, congratulations, you’re lucky and you don’t need to do much – just keep going and doing what you do. And good luck to you. You don’t need to stay here and finish reading this post, you lucky ducky, because you’re sorted and everything.

However, if you’re still reading…

How would you answer these questions?

1. Are you happy with your job?

2. Are you content and happy with your relationship?

3. Do you ever hold things in a lot?

4. Do you feel fit and healthy and active and uplifted?

5. Do you take vacations?

If you’ve answered ‘no’ to most questions, boy, are you in trouble.

Let’s psychoanalyze, shall we?

1. The job thing? Pfffffft. You don’t need to be working a job where you’re being harassed by your manager constantly. Maybe you need the money, desperately, and you’ve got to keep at it, but here’s the thing – look for the silver lining. Stay away from that handsy manager. My man once told me that he’s cold to people at work and doesn’t indulge in conversation because people walk all over you if you open up. And he’s 💯 correct. Staying away from drama is key.

2. The whole relationship thing, yeah? Such a fight, such a headache and such a pain honestly, when it doesn’t work the way you want it to. Seek professional counseling, couples’ therapy sessions, with someone that won’t judge. And trust me when you communicate about what’s eating away at your head, things become this literal cakewalk. We’re unhappy because we care too much or care too less without realizing that happy mediums DO exist.

3. Again, when you hold things in a lot, you’re turning yourself into a pressure cooker. Don’t. You’re a person and you need to let it out. Half of your problems would actually go away if you cared to vent to someone once in a while. Hence, therapy.

4. If you can’t sleep, or eat or feel unhealthy and lethargic in general, try meditation and yoga. There’s no harm in that, is there? I use this app called Headspace and it is excellent – “Andy” has a soothing voice and meditation becomes easy. At the end of my session, I’m left feeling a lot calmer and healthier. Also, try drinking a lot of water. Not only does it help to detox, it also makes you look and feel alive.

5, If you haven’t taken a vacation in ages because you’re married to your job, STOP. Take one as soon as you can. It’s crazy how much we ignore our own mental and physical health for the sake of relatively unimportant ish and drive ourselves nuts in the process. Stay in therapy as long as you need to. There’s no stigma around it anymore. It’s 2019, people.

Have you ever seen a therapist? Did it help?

Zephyr

Zephyr

It was one of those extremely hot summer days. Forty degrees, zero chances of rain, scorching hot, bad enough to make you dehydrate in a jiffy.

She’d been driving for two hours and the AC had broken down. That business meeting probably did not go well. That lunch didn’t do much except leave a bitter taste in her mouth. As if that wasn’t enough, she saw her ex and a group of his friends walk into the club and trash her openly amongst themselves. She’d left in a hurry. They’d broken up ages ago, and he resented her, every fiber of her being, and he made her want to die everyday. He’s brought out the bad in her and she hated herself when she was with him and she had no one to blame.

And now, a failed career and a slew of failed treatments later, she was fighting to survive and fight for others just like her. She adjusted the headscarf and her sunglasses and concentrated on her driving. Ten minutes later, her car ran out of juice, and she made it to the nearest gas station just in time.

Not a single leaf seemed to be quivering. It was that quiet and that still. She got a refill and got back on the road. She was growing tired and couldn’t really drive anymore, so she parked the car in the first empty patch of land she could find. It felt like a total desert. The trees looked dead and ghostly. She felt her head spin from the heat, so she took off the headscarf, and forced herself to sit on the bonnet. As she blotted her bald head with some Kleenex, her phone vibrated.

It was a new email from the investors she’d met with earlier. They said they were interested in her pitch and that women with no homes to go to and women who had carcinomas and felt like they had nothing to live for definitely needed someplace that felt like home. She’d been promised six months and she wanted to put in everything she had and give people hope. Which was precisely why she’d come back to her tiny town and made the decision of investing in shelter for needy women.

She smiled to herself as the zephyr blew in like a breath of new life.

PS: Whoa. I actually completed the A to Z challenge without embarrassing myself too much. Give me a five!!

Xenomania

Xenomania

Everyday, she would check her bank balance to see if the numbers were growing and if she’d made enough.

She would tell herself all the time that at twenty seven, she was too much of a free-spirited woman to be tied down to one spot, and everyday, her boss would remind her that she wasn’t. That she needed this cubicle and this job and the money. And she bore it all, with a tight-lipped smile.

She sighed as she looked at the list of Airbnb’s she’d favorited, and told herself she would one day, eventually, see the Pink City. And the rest of India. She’d been obsessed with the country, the customs, the lifestyles, the food, for as long as she could remember.

And one day it happened.

A million hour long flight, and a million layovers and a mile long line later, she finally took an Uber to get to her destination. She didn’t even make it halfway, she didn’t get to leave the capital.

The last thing she remembered was the knife, and she felt a lot of pain, and she remembered thinking how xenomania had eventually managed to kill her spirit after all.

The Versatile Blogger Tag

The Versatile Blogger Tag

…again.

I used to love doing these tags. And then we all got old, he he heh. Anyway, shoutout to Dhanya for nominating me – it means a lot to people like me when people like you find the time to read my stupid posts.

• The rules:

1. Thank the person who gave you the award.

2. Include a link to their blog.

3. Select 7 blogs/bloggers that you’ve recently discovered or follow regularly.

4. Nominate those bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award.

5. Finally, tell the person who nominated you 7 things about yourself.

At this point, I’ve pretty much covered point one, oh, and two. Duh.

I nominate whoever is reading this, but specially these guys –

Malcolm Marsh

Joshua with no last name 😛

Sia

Ashish Vision

Dear old P

Ely

YingLan

Seven random things about me:

• I’m a physician and I hate my job on most days. Ahahah.

• I’m the grandmother of the group, which is a pain and a boon, at the same time.

• I’m deathly afraid of snakes.

• I drink my coffee with stevia and almond milk and wveyoneb makes fun of me.

• I’m a midget and I’m only five two. Bet y’all knew that.

• My favorite book of all time is Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn and I wish they’d make a Netflix series out of it. So GOOD.

• I’m a teetotaler.

I bored y’all to death at this point. Oops.

War

War

I’m young but I have seen far too much

The bloodshed and suicide bombings and guns

And the weeping mothers

Mourning the loss of their sons.

I don’t have a lot, just my personal hell to bear

Tending to the soldiers with missing limbs and fingers

I remember my man lost in the war

We had two hours before duty called and yet, his touch still lingers

People divided by religion, and politics

It makes me hate it here, it’s just so sad

I haven’t been home in months

I miss Cookie, I miss dear old mum and dad

Sometimes I wish I weren’t an army doctor

That I could quit and start over

But if we all turn away, who stays to face mass murder

I pray it ends as I hold on to his dog tag like it’s my lucky clover.

(PS: I tried very hard to not talk about Jihad and religion – both of which I feel very strongly about – and then my post turned into a headless chicken hunt. I’m so sorry but war poetry is freaking hard to do.)