Brain Rot

I have been hearing this phrase quite often now all over the internet, and was oblivious of what it is, until it actually happened to me. 

For the past few months, my mood has been extremely low or irritable, and I just couldn't understand why. These are the possible reasons that I could find:

a) monotonous life 

b) no stepping out, no social life = sad life 

c) always seeing the same faces every day

d) haven't travelled in a year

e) too tired for anything, even to have a conversation

f) no friends to rely on in the city 

g) no excitement in life

f) no boyfriend 

I made up my mind. I have to go somewhere. Somewhere calm and quiet and spend some time alone; rejuvenate and come back. And if possible meet some old friends too. And I booked a resort for the month of April. 

Meanwhile, I noticed a pattern - my mind was cluttered, there were too many thoughts and internal conversation going on at the same time and I just couldn't focus on anything, not even reading a fictional novel, which would transport to me some other world. No interest in films or series. No interest to even work. Low self-esteem, existential crisis, feeling like I have failed in life. So on and so forth. 

And then, it actually occurred to me; INSTAGRAM REELS - I have been watching too many reels and too much of instagram exposure was affecting my entire system. I have been feeling things I shouldn't including FOMO and comparing myself with my peers. And I was changing into someone I have never desired to become. And then, without a second thought, I deactivated my instagram account overnight. And boom! Within a few days, my mood and everything else improved!

I haven't exaggerated even one bit. Instagram was the villain in my life and now that I am aware, I am quite mindful of what I visually indulge in. I don't know how long I could just keep myself away from the flow but as of now, I know, it was BRAINROT and only I could help myself. And here I am. Doing what I should rather be doing. 

The Good Girl Syndrome

I have been noticing a pattern in my female peers, who were raised with values similar to what my parents tried to impart in me, AKA regressive, patriarchal, misogynistic thoughts - "I don't talk to men, I don't have male friends, I am very soft-spoken, I listen to my parents/husband, I have never had a boyfriend, I have and will never make people say bad things about me, I strongly believe in my God and my religion and caste is superior, I follow their rules and would take the values and morals they have given me to my grave, I don't even let my husband touch me because I believe think sex is divine and only for procreation" yada yada yada. In short, the "perfect" KULASTHREE. I have nothing but sympathy for them, for being slaves of other people's expectations and misogyny, trying hard to please everyone and stay in their good books and together judge everyone who doesn't follow the said values. 

Duh!

If you have read my previous blogs, or you know me personally, you'd know that I am none of all that; in fact, I am exactly opposite of everything mentioned above. So, you could imagine how my neighbors and family see me. 😅 The black sheep, indeed. 

However, over the years, especially after spending quite a lot of my time with a manipulative, people pleaser and moving back home once and for all to live with my parents, where the only social interaction is with the said neighbours and relatives, something in me, has changed. I realise, I have evolved into a people pleaser now, constantly seeking their validation, but not giving up on the perspective I have gained over time, and sharing my views rather subtly and not aggressively, hiding some part of me from public to avoid sceutiny and sometimes agreeing to them even though I don't mean it. I have caught the "good girl syndrome" without even realising it. 😔 And that realisation struck me like a lightning. I have become what I never wanted to be. 

So, I am gonna work on myself, to go back to the rebel self 😅 people won't be pleased but since the benchmark is low (they hated me, well, still hate me, for being opinionated once upon a time) so I think I can go back to that without disrupting my peace. Because, I don't need any of their validation. 

Wish me luck.  

The Unknown Legacy

Are we even aware of the story or history of our ancestors? 

The one before our grandparents? 

How did they look? What did they do? How many children did they have? How many did they lose? How did they bring up their kids? How many partners did they have? How did they treat their partners? Were they educated? Did they have any morbidity? Did they pass it on to the successors? Where they rich? Did they experience any war or natural calamities? What was their mortality? What were their struggles? How was their social life? Have their been incestual partnerships? Or affairs? Were there any illegitimate children?

And their predecessors? Where did they come from? What made them settle here? Did they even imagine their future generations to live the life we are living right now? 

How about the future? How many more generations would we have? Or will it end with me and my sibling? What about my cousins? How many generations more would they have? What all will they have to face? Calamities, wars, global warming, what all? 

So many more questions. Everything will remain unknown to us. 

Mental Health & Family History

This might be a controversial subject, especially when my extended family reads this, but I am glad no one will, cuz this is my personal punching bag. 

Anyway, I have noticed that there many cases of mental health issues in our family - father's side especially. Since I have a little bit of knowledge reading up on mental health issues, I can totally see that there are various issues around. Some are diagnosed, some still in denial, and the rest in delusion. I have also felt that this could be genetic, but I just don't know where it all started. 

But, recently, I have noticed a pattern in a family member (who is no longer alive) from conversations, and I feel that person could have been the source. Or one of the sources.  However, whoever I mentioned this to, are in denial, and the worst, pointing fingers at me saying I could be the one with THE problem 🙂

I somehow feel like Mariamma, from The Covenant of Water, who gets on a mission to identify the cause of a certain pattern in her family, but I am neither brainy, nor have the courage/energy to go behind this lost cause. 

But, I really wish, people identify that there is a strong chance we could pass this on and on, and stop procreating overall. Not just my family, but in general. And in mine, some of us, knowingly or unknowingly aren't procreating anyway, so that fear is gone. 

Ok, rant done. Bye. 

Bitterness

I noticed one thing (amongst many other things) about myself lately - that I have some sort of bitterness towards this gen relatives, and relatives in general. I started looking for reasons - I mean, why would I feel bitterness towards some random kids who have not done anything wrong to me? The answer was quite straight forward but ridiculous (yes, I know)

Their parents, grandparents, the entire relatives I have got, have judged me left right and center and made my life a hell back in my early adolescence. The clothes I wear (it has always been modest), my ass, my boobs, my facial feature, my friendships, my lifestyle, the pictures I post on social media - every fucking thing had been scrutinised and badmouthed to, which ofcourse reached my parents, so eventhough I gave zero fucks about what others thought and lived my life the way I wanted, I had to be answerable for every fucking thing, which was truly none of anybody's business. I mean, I wasn't doing anything illegal or harmful, so why the fuck do people have a problem? 

And then, I see the same people's kids and grandkids doing every fucking thing I did, and living their life to the fullest, with no scrutiny, I find myself building despise towards them. So bitter I want to tear them all apart. Why did I have to face all the bad things, but these kids have it all easy? 

Which made me remember this one thing a cousin once told me - every family would have a black sheep, who's walk against the crowd, take all the pain and sufferings, but makes it easy for the rest of them. And that I am that person in our family. 

So, may be, I should just change the narrative and be proud of myself that I made life easier for these kids. 

It's a task. To change those distortions, but not undoable. So I might as well do that. 

Rant over. 

Ok bye. 

Y2K. When I fell in love

Year 2000. 

The hysteria over the imaginary Y2K virus was finally over and all of us were excited about the life ahead. 

I was in grade 7, on the verge of finishing the academic year in a few months. Since my elder sibling was giving her 10th exams, switching on the television was strictly prohibited at home. My only timepass other than staring into infinity was off the radar. 

One morning, I heard this girl I used to despise (a good friend now) going gaga over some "new boy in bollywood" in the school bus. I couldn't even catch the name. And this became a regular episode. 

Curiosity started building up in me, "what's special about this new guy? Is he like Kunchako Boban?", I wondered. And then, I saw her making wild noises when the bus swift pass a movie theatre. There it was, the poster of the film - a tall, macho guy, with a random girl, and the title read "Kaho Naa... pyaar hai". 

"Another Fardeen Khan."

"Another flop actor."

"Doesn't even have a mustache"

And thus, my curiosity was met with nothing but disappointment. 

Until that point, only two things made me and my gang of friends go crazy - Arathy Chechi, (yeah, it's that same girl you are thinking of) a senior from school who we thought was the mallu doppelganger of Aiswarya Rai, and, ofcourse, Kunchako Boban. To be honest, I wasn't that much into KB, but went with the flow because my friends found him cute. 

So. Months went by. Sibling's exam was over. And television was back in our lives. 

Summer vacation was on. The local cable television back in the day used to have their own exclusive channel, where they'd play latest, pirated "theatre print" films. And I came across Kaho Naa... Pyaar hai. Since I had nothing much to do, I decided to give it a go. 

The songs were extremely catchy, but the girl was quite annoying. But, do we have another choice? Hero was introduced. "DUH!"

Hero meets heroine. (Car - cycle scene) Midhunam innocent.jpeg

And then, this happens. 

"Athisundar", I repeat after SoNYa. 

And that was the moment, dear friends... I fell in love. For the first time. In my life. With this man. Who I thought was "duh". 

That was also the moment, when I realised, that I like men... Even without mustache. 

And I decided, I would marry a Raj, Rohit or Rahul (the last one reference is from KKHH if you couldn't guess) Never came across a Raj, but the Rohit and Rahul episodes didn't go well as I thought. (Screaming still singleeeeee) 

Like most teenagers from my time, I would collect his pictures... Most of my tuition notebooks (because you don't have to cover them with brown paper) had him smiling at me. I would try sketching him, eventhough I am talentless.... The greetings cards I recieved would have his face... I wouldn't miss any of his films. (I had even watched I See You because he appears for like 10 seconds!)

When he announced his wedding, you can imagine how distrauted I was. That same feeling of distraution reappeared when he also announced his divorce, "he's so heartbroken, how do I make him feel happy all over again?" (LOL) And that feeling came back again when I heard he was dating a woman pretty much my age, and they met on twitter! "It could have been me". (ROFL)

Anyway. If you think tall, fair, macho, six-packed men are my type, then you are certainly wrong. Because, the same year... 2000... I also fell in love with another man. 👇

And from there.... Love would happen, every other month 😉 with men who were unavailable for me. (Lolololol)

Okbye. 

"Acha, What is Stress?"

I would have been grade 6 or 7. The one word that always intrigued by at the point was "tension", AKA Stress. I would here that word in every conversation at home, and I, ofcourse a child, who wasn't even worried about studies, was pretty chilled out know what tension was. But, I grew up seeing my parents always stressed about work, home, finances and what not. 

Myy relationship with my father was kind of ok back then; it became strained only when I got into college or so. So, one evening , during our tea-time, I casually asked my father, "what is tension? I don't think I have ever experienced it, not will I, but I am curious". I don't remember his reply, but the joke is on me, because life turned around within a year or two. 

My first bout of stress occurred during 10th grade. Pretty obvious, every child who grew up in the 90s know how it feels. "The decisive period". I remember having an extended menstrual period for over 15 days during the final exams. No one knew why, but today I know it was stress + pcod acting up. From there, my life was consumed by stress. Higher secondary admissions, grandmother's death (my first ever experience up-close) a major surgery right before +2, +2 results, college admissions, so on and so forth. 

Needless to say, at 37, I am on medication for depression and anxiety, and also fibromyalgia, majorly because of the stress that has consumed me 😃 and today, I still can't explain what exactly tension or stress is, but I can definitely tell you how it makes you suffer. 

Life's a little joke, I tell you! 

Sweet Tooth

I can still feel the taste of Saccharine in my mouth. From the small bite I took from a laddu that's been lying around at home. All thanks to my sibling who believes these enormous Saccharine filled delicacies could help our mom tackle the occasional low blood sugar episodes. Despite telling multiple times that, that's not exactly the right way to face the situation. 

Anyway, these sweets often become a hindrance to my always-on-no-sugar-diet. 

Even though my mother tells me that I was a relatively thin child, my memory of myself has always been that of my chubby phase. I have always identified myself as a fat person and nothing really could help me get rid of that image. 

I vividly remember deciding to lose weight when I was in 7th grade, even in my late 30s, I find it difficult to stick to that plan. The main culprit being my never ending love for sweets. 

The problem is I just can't stop with one bite. When the sensation of sugar  hits my tongue, I become something I am not. I'd pull that box of sweets and gobble up an entire box! No, I am not exaggerating. I have the record of eating 10 laddus in one go! And I don't even feel high. All I end up thinking is I NEED MORE! 

And this is one of the main reasons why I look the way I am - obese as per BMI scale. Apart from overeating everything else, ofcourse. 

A couple of years ago, I went on a no-sugar diet. After 60days, I went on a binge. And then I decided to keep one cheat day a week, but ended up gobbling all the calories I missed that entire week. And finally, I realised, may be, sugar and I can co-exist without hurting each other. 

Here I am. Still reminiscencing that one bite a took a few hours ago, and telling myself every other minute "this taste too shall pass". 

Neighbours

She cannot remember the day she moved into this building. A warm, cozy, quaint apartment, tucked away in the silent part of the otherwise buzzling town. She was on the 1st floor of the 3-storeyed building. She was eager to meet her neighbours, all families. 

An old couple, enjoying their retirement years, on the ground floor. They own the building. All smiles and sweet-nothings everytime she comes across them. On random days, home-cooked food and delicacies reach her, packed it tight containers. Scrumptious. A little curious and nosy but they are family. Home away from home. 

First floor. Her neighbours. An inter-religious young couple and their little one. A sweet 5yo. But aloof parents. She has always wondered why. Could be because they don't want friends? But they do. They always have visitors. But, why avoid her, she pondered. Maybe they didn't want interference from her neighbours. Valid. Let them be. But an occasional hi's and bye's with the child leaves a smile on her face. 

Upstairs. 2nd floor. 2 families. A mother and two children; a large family on the opposite side. The mother, a diplomatic woman, her husband lives abroad, and she single-handedly manages the house. Not a single mother, yet almost one. The children. One girl and boy. An overly ambitious girl, jack of all trades, master of none. The boy. Cute. Naughty. Calls her his best friend. He makes her life tolerable. 

The other family. An old couple. Two young children. Their mother. Problematic family. Single mother. Separated with toxic husband. She, the most toxic woman our girl has ever come across. The kids. Tests her patience. The old man, replacment for CCTV. Everyone's always under his surveillance. The old woman. Loud mouth. She manages to ignore them as much as possible. 

And then, there's her. Trying to live life, one day at a time. 

Dates and Heartbreaks

She always believed in one-love, one-man and happily-ever-afters. You know, the things that novels and movies make you believe in. She was a hopeless romantic and she waited for "the one" until life hit her. Like a truck with no brakes. 

Awful. 

She gave up. 

Keeping her dreams and hopes aside, she  started behaving like how normal people do. She entered the dating pool. 

Was it all casual? Yes, indeed. Was it that she wanted? Certainly not. 

Every time she went on a date, her hopes soared. She dreamt of a fairytale. What she got was disappointment. 

Each man left with a piece of her heart. Yet, her heart grew back, with all the hopes right in place. 

They wanted sex. She wanted love. They were ready to call it "love making", nothing beyond that. 

And one day, she died. Passing on her legacy of hopes to another woman. 

She started dreaming of a happily ever after.