It feels so heavy

It feels as if I have the weight of the world on my shoulders.

Until a few minutes back it felt all okay.. i was infact so proud of myself that I’m managing everything on my own and maybe onr day i will even be able to get out of this misery.

But when I’m done with my first shift and the daily chores and finally got a minute to sit down, it hit me again. The fear, the feeling of the world on my shoulders, the heaviness, the pressure on my nerves, it all hit me again hard. The fact that I’m not going anywhere with this life, the fact that leaving my brain idle for a minute is dangerous to my being, the fact that there is no one in this world that i can turn to for help, the fact that i really am all alone, is all too frightening and painful.

I want to call dad and tell him that i made a mistake choosing this guy and that we are in no way compatible with each other and it is making me miserable enough to feel like dying every minute. But i cannot as he will panic if i say all that. He might even die with the kind of poor health he is in. More than that, he says that i shouldn’t be the one who asks for divorce. He wants me to be politically correct. His words prove me agaia and again how men care more about their social status than anything. I just want to know how he would feel if I commit suicide. Will he be happy? Ofcourse no, it would kill him and ruin my family for life. But then why don’t they understand how tough it is for me to live this lie? Damn, couldn’t these tears be sweet in taste! I must say here, i feel that my dad is more worried about my sister’s future if i end up divorced with an invalid reason. And more than that, he feels that he is a failure for not earning enough to sort our lives despite what we do! He is becoming more and more paranoid everyday with the kind of mental pressure I’m giving them. I wish there’s a magic wand to fix it all.

My Mum seems to be the one who is more sorted here. She is atleast not showing it. Maybe that is more harmful to her health. Damn Cancer, i wish you didn’t enter her life. If not for you, she would be there, standing like a wall, ready to pick the pieces after i break their hearts and wreck their lives with my death.

I want to wake this sleeping husband of mine and tell him that i made a mistake marrying him and that we are not meant for each other and that living this life is making me go crazy, driving me deepeer and deeper into depression. And that i need his help. And that i need him to initiate divorce if he wants out. And if not, then i atleast need him to be responsible and take some load off me and make my life a little easier even if it is just temporary.

God, i wish there is some machine that can convey your mind without having to talk.

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One thing that never fails to make me happy…. Music

No matter what my mood is and how my situation is, there is one thing that always make me happy. It makes me stand up and get going. It gives me pleasure no matter what I’m doing. At times, I even feel like no matter how stressful and fearing my work is, with this, i can just conquer it all.

It is Music. Most importantly, Music in my own language. Usually i do not have these feelings of race, caste, creed, region or religion. But when it comes to music, i cannot enjoy music in any other language except Telugu. I do love Hindi songs but it takes some time for the songs to sink in and to be able to enjoy music in English, it requires a lot of effort on my part. I need to see the visual, like it, or read the lyrics, like them, then listen to the song, like the tunes, then compare lyrics to the song, sing along to get familiar with the song and then enjoy. This process takes a lot of time and effort. The same goes with music in any other language, be it Tamil, Malayalam or Korean. They all demand a lot of time and effort for me to be able to enjoy that music.

But with Telugu, it is just different. It flows like natural. Of course it does, it is my Mother Tongue after all. A language I think in. Melody, Fast beat, Lullaby, Musical, the type of the song doesn’t matter as long as the lyrics are meaningful, beautiful and in Telugu. Mostly, I love those songs that remind me of the movie story as they aren’t forcefully added to the movie but flow naturally with the movie’s pace. Such songs remind you of the entire movie making you want to watch it again.

I sometimes wonder if i will ever be able to understand songs or music the way i understand songs in Telugu. No matter how good i am at reading, writing, and speaking Hindi, I will never be able to understand the lyrical nuances like I do in Telugu. I think lyrics and composition are like 2 wheels of a vehicle called song. And when you cannot connect to the depth of the lyrics, there is only so much the score can do. To me, a soulful lyric in Telugu, sung beautifully with decent composition beats any world class composition in any language. This makes me wonder how linguistics actually work. Sure, you can be proficient in a language that isn’t yours. But can you really get to the roots of the language enough to understand and be able to enjoy the lyrics of a song in that language?

I do love the music posts many people do on WordPress. They are like reviews or intros to the songs they like. I should do a movie & music favourites category. Music is such a big part of my life. That too a happy one. I should definitely add it to my happy collection here.

Lazy days

There is this weird happiness in being able to be lazy for the whole day when you are not forced to do one thing!

A Saturday when you had a festival holiday on the Friday and you had nothing to do but to enjoy your weekend, is a wonderful Saturday. Waking up lazily at a time you want after a good night sleep and then lazily making coffee and breakfast which by the way is upma that takes little or no effort.

Here i am, sitting in the balcony with Karan Johar’s Autobiography and my breakfast setup. With my little plants happily growing buds and the day light being messed up with these on and off drizzles with a background score of the Chaviti bhajans from the township prayer area is just a little too perfect set up for a lazy Saturday morning.

By the way, I’m reading Karan Johar’s Autobiography, “An Unsuitable Boy”. I don’t know what the title meant, but I’ve just started reading it and i must say it is good. If you are any bit emotional and any bit Indian, you’ll like it. Though I’ve read only prologue and one chapter, i can say that it is well written and well framed. You can just get the tone of a book from the first few pages itself. And ofcourse, any film makers book is interesting as it tells you things about people who are always in the limelight but have a coat of secrecy over them. I guess it is our curiosity that makes these books and movies interesting.

And in all of this, one cute thing happened which reminded me of my own childhood memories. While I was eating my breakfast and parallely reading, there is this little girl from the opposite apartment who observed me for like 5 to 10 minutes while drinking her milk, I assume. It was cute that sh stood over there observing a woman reading in her balcony. It reminded me of those childhood days of mine when we would come back from school or on a Sunday evening when my Mum would be sitting on her chair somewhere in a quiet corner of the house and reading something or anything. Infact, those quiet reading times were what inspired me to read, to fall in love with these amazing things call books. I have grown up watching people read which tells me that no matter how busy you are, you can always make time for a good book as long as your brain is free to take in. To this day, that love for books, that love for reading never left me. Infact that is the only thing I ever loved unconditionally in this entire world. Even though the time i can spare for reading is very less thesr days, i still cannot stop myself from buying books just for the sake of collecting them for the rainy day. Like today 😎😋. I just wish i made her a little bit curious about what I was doing and she takes up a book just out of curiosity. I only know her from this balcony and have seen her observing me while i was doing my quiet reading here. So, I can just wish.

It is also my dream to start a little library somewhere, possibly in the apartment complex i live to just make reading a little bit easy for people and most importantly kids. But I’m still a little bit selfish about my collection and is not yet ready to part with them and i know that the day i start giving our books i should be ready to loose them as well as not every book that goes out comes back. I know this for a fact after looking at library books being held hostage at our home for months if not years. It is not that my mum is stealing them, but it is just that she doesn’t find time to complete all of them and even if she does, she is just too lazy to return them. She returns them whenever she visits the local library but then gets back with a tonne of books again. I cannot tell you how much fine she has paid until now for those late returns! 😉🤔.

Okay, here we are at the end of my long weekend rant and the vegetable sellers are here on their usual time. We have this Saturday mini market in our Apartment Complex every week which helps me avoid going to the supermarket every now and then. So convenient. This is one of the things I love about living here.

Okay then, off i go to our vegetable market and bye bye.

Relive

I have no clue how people with tough lives and sad memories write memoirs or autobiographies. It is such a painful thing to do. It is almost as if the person is reliving their entire life which is more painful than the original version. Atleast in the original, we just live experiencing pain or any feelings along the way. But while writing, we recollect everything and anything the mind remembers. And you see, this thing called brain is so amazingly weird that it remembers everything that caused you pain but forgets others point of view entirely. In such cases, writing becomes the most painful and tiring activity one has ever performed.

It crushes the soul like anything breaking the heart into millions of pieces every waking minute and day. And at times like this when you realise that there is a pattern in your life and you might have repeated your past mistakes, just kills you. It need not be true but to people like me, everything seems to be wrong or done the wrong way or done for the wrong reasons, in retrospect.

I wish it was easy. 😐 Or atleast, i wish it wasn’t this lonely.

Facts #2 – Complexities of my mind

  • I cannot sleep in open places. I need closed rooms to sleep.
  • I don’t like too much light anywhere.
  • I prefer dark, gloomy and warm to anything else.
  • I can only sleep when it is dead dark.
  • I cannot share any of my things (my cup, my plate, my bedsheets, my pillow, my side of the bed, my house key) with anyone. Not even my husband. 
  • I cannot take it when someone messes up with things like my cupboard arrangement, my wardrobe, my kitchen setup.
  • I’m too gaurded and closed for anyone.
  • I’m too scared to open up to anyone. Too scared to let anyone know my fears and vulnerabilities.
  • I find it too difficult to trust anyone. If I trust someone, it means a lot to me.
  • I love my sister to death but not sure if i love myself enough.
  • I am a woman of contradictions and complex thoughts.

    Is there any reason why a person can be this weird and messed up? Am i damaged mentally? Am i not meant for a happy and simple life? How do i know?

    Relationships

    What do you do when you are in a relationship that doesn’t give you any happiness?

    And when everyone around you ask reasons for it when you cannot pin point to one and you are just unhappy and depressed, what do you do?

    And when the person who is in that relationship with you asks you that question, what do you answer? He has every right to ask.

    When it feels like i made a blunder getting married. I now feel like I’m not meant for things like marriage and love. I cannot love someone or infact anyone outside my immediate family in that selfless way or even in a selfish way.

    I sometimes feel like I’m so important to myself that i cannot let my guard down even for a minute and let anyone in. I sometimes wonder if I’m a narcissist in the making if not already one. And in the next minute i end up thinking if i am really this horrible person that i think i am.

    There are so many more questions to which i have no answers at all. Will i ever get answers to any of those? I’m imploding with all of these!