Gardener

One of the many things I had in my bucket list of "when-I-become-a-homemaker" was to maintain a garden. 

My parents and grandmother tried to maintain a small yet beautiful garden in front of our house, which, was too overwhelmingly adorned with flowering plants and a small lawn when we initially moved in. Eventually the lawn dried up, too many changes were made, including the addition of a small well, demolition of the tiny concrete partition that surrounded the garden, teak and mango emerging into fully-grown trees, tiling to keep up with the modern times and a stone-bench. The garden area shrunk, but some plants did manage to thrive. 

I have memories of watering the plants, initially due to enthusiasm, eventually due to parental pressure. Needless to say, I didn't enjoy the maintaining part as much as I enjoyed the visual. 

When I moved to Cochin, there was a point where I had a tiny balcony all for myself. Once, after work, my colleague and I stumbled upon a plant nursery on our way back home and instantly decided to buy some plants. I bought a marigold plant, a rose and a couple of small flowering shrubs. I had a couple of golden fish too adorning the room, so suddenly a sense of responsibility rushed into me. And a friend added "if you can manage to take care of plants and pets, you are ready to be a wife". I still do not understand the connection, but I clearly failed. 🥲 Neither the plants nor the fish survived much. 

My parents had moved to an apartment building by then with little to no room for a garden. Eventhough I had this strong urge to build a terrace garden, that dream shattered when the owner of the building decided to roof it all up. My parents were quite certain, how long it would have lasted; I defended myself a little and then gave up, because I knew they were right. 

Anyway, I don't know if it's because of my constant taunting and cribbing, every now and then, my father comes home with a new shrub. And, he plants and maintains them himself. All I do is enjoy the beauty. That's all I am capable of, or pretend to be capable of. 

I still dream of having a house with lots of plants surrounding me, only flowers, not the green stuff my plant-obsessed friends are crazy about. Maybe, that's how I want to add some colours to my life. To believe that it's beautiful and worth living for. However, I am still not certain how much I would be invested, but one can always dream. 

Mutated "Vaazha"

I don't know how or when this "Vaazha" term came into picture while referring to useless, jobless people. Well, specifically men/boys. But, let me tell you, Vaazha shouldn't be gender specific. 

Because, as a woman, I check almost all the criteria that describes a Vaazha. 

But sure, we women are often not put into that bracket because the societal expectations from us is different from that of men. So we are other things and they are Vaazha. 

Now, what makes me a vaazha, you may ask. To begin with, I have never been academically bright. Not so bad though, the typical average student, until my parents decided to put me into Engineering. The only other option that was given to me was to take up medicine. Lol. 

I complied to their decision only because I had zero clue about life or career. Nor did I wanted to. I had decided on my future when I was probably 12 or 13. Get a graduation, let parents find a guy settled abroad as my groom, get married, settle in the US or UK, do household chores, give birth to 5 boys and take care of the family - typical Indian girl conditioned dreams. 🥲

But, engineering college had other plans for me. There was first love, which was not part of the plan, suppl's that wasn't the plan either, slutshaming... Hmmm, who expects that... So on and so forth. I hated each and every day I spent in that goddamn college. I don't even have a fond memory to start with. I hated my life and everything that made me go to that college. And my frustration was at peak, ofcourse, who else to show it to other than parents? The rebel. 

I had become a vaazha even before I could fathom.

But, unlike the actual vaazha boys, I somehow managed to find a job, and am still working, but am I successful? Lol. 

Now, coming back to the abroad dreams.

Well, you might have guessed it already. None of it materialised. 

But am I disappointed? Hell no!

Life has changed, perspectives have changed, and in a way, I am glad I chose the Vaazha path instead of the pre-planned slave path. 

I just watched the film Vaazha which made me write all these. Since it was too relatable, I really liked it, except for the climax - I mean where parents support the boys. Lol, no way! It was entertaining, nevertheless, atleast to me. 

Alright then. Signing off. 

Mutated Vaazha 

Parents and their hypocrisy

If you have a sibling(s) this might be relatable to you. 

We have all, at some point or the other, asked our parents, who their favorite child is and the unanimous answer would be "all my children are equal to me". And that's a big fat lie!

Every parent has a favourite child. They don't love their children equally. That's the universal truth. The reasons may vary, but it would be quite evident from their actions. But, they would gaslight you. They'd tell you that you are being irrational. 

From being partial with even trivial things, you can see through it. But, they will never agree. It's understable, they don't want to hurt you, but c'mon! Why do they justify it though?

My parents are the same too. They even would lie that they like me more, but I see it everyday, right in front of my eyes, how partial they are with my sibling, and how they justify their acts even when both of us do the exact same mistake! 

But then, sometimes, you kinda ignore and let it go. Because the more you talk about it, "you are overthinking". So, you silently take it all. And love your parents regardless. Because aren't we all conditioned to love them no matter what? 

Everything happens for a reason...

I am not the spiritual, believer person. I have my reservations when it comes to religion and the idea of God. However, contrary to this, I believe in two things - 

1) Karma - what you sow, so shall you reap. 

This thing has helped me stay true to my conscience and not do things that align to my ideology. Ofcourse, I have erred in life, many at times, but I have very few regrets. Especially, I steer clear of not doing harm to another person until and unless they seek it 🥲

2) Everything happens for a reason

I know you may contradict on this one, but this particular thought keeps me going. Not gonna lie, I have been extremely negative at one point in time, but it was my coping mechanism to not get affected by the worst. However, that's changed (touchwood) and when I connect the dots, most things that has happened to me - good or bad - has helped me become a better person. 

Ofcourse, there are things I wish has happened differently. But still, like I had mentioned earlier, I try not to regret too much about things that didn't happen my way. 

This certainly doesn't mean I am self-righteous, but atleast I am true to myself. :) 

My Fibromyalgia Journey

I first experienced an unexplainable pain on my neck when I was in grade 9 or 10. I'd carry a Tiger Balm bottle to school, so that I could apply it as and when the pain occured. I still remember my schoolmates asking me what that yellow pigmentation on the nape of my off-white school uniform was. 

Cut to 2009, after multiple episodes of unbearable pain and stress from college, I sought physiotherapy, but couldn't continue for long due to classes. Then, after finishing college, my father asked me to try the traditional treatment method for pain relief - Ayurveda. I could complete the treatment as I had bagged a job in another city by then and I chose to go for the job. 

The pain had by then moved to my shoulders and upper arm, along with lower back of my body. I restarted the same treatment protocol a year later and completed it however, but it was a painful experience. As in, the hot oil massages, bitter oral medicines, hot water bath - all of them seem like a nightmare now. 

Anyway, the pain still persisted, but I was not someone who would give up that easily. So I went on with my day-to-day activities like a normal person, despite having pricking pain 24x7. 

Within a few years, the pain had extended to the left side of my upper body - left nape, shoulder and upper arm to be precise. Since I am predominantly a leftie, and I would use my left arm for almost everymal functioning started getting a

Life had taken a different turn by then - depression and anxiety kicked in. And I diverted my focus on fixing mental health rather than physical pain, which I had accepted as part of my life. 

There are days when the pain becomes unbearable, and it stays for more than 2 weeks, depending on whether I give enough rest to my body or not. Since I am a working professional, rest is luxury some times. 

In 2022, when an episode occured, I went and consulted a popular orthopaedic in my city and he, without even suggesting an x-ray, said "lose weight". I was so annoyed, because losing weight doesn't happen overnight and I needed an immediate solution. After this episode, I voluntarily enrolled for physiotherapy and the lady I chose fortunately was well-experienced, informed and non-judgmental. The therapy sessions with her made me calm and gave good results as well. She was the first person to tell me the possibility of having myalgia. The doctor also actually mentioned it briefly, but he said fat was the reason 😏

Anyway, I had already heard about fibromyalgia on the internet and started reading up about it and already had suspicion. And this lady mentioning it made me realise that was what I was suffering with. Even then, one part of me was asking me to get a proper diagnosis and confirm it before coming to a conclusion. 

So I did. I went to a rheumatologist and explained my struggles, which he listened to patiently, made me get an elaborate blood work, just to rule out possibilities such as Rheumatoid Arthritis and auto-immune diseases and finally confirmed that what I am suffering from is indeed Fibromyalgia and it is basically stress manifesting as pain. 🥲

But after the diagnosis, I am very mindful of the things I do or indulge in and am trying my best not to get that unbearable pain again. I mean, I know this condition is not curable but atleast I could manage it without letting it rule my life. 

Ugly Betty

Growing up, it never occurred to me that I was/am ugly. I think that's the beauty of convent schools - they have strict rules on what to wear and what not to during school hours - be it jewelry, makeup or even nail-polish. Everyone looked almost the same in their uniforms. There was, however, discrimination, based on size and skin color, but that's a story for another day. 

But this thing about beauty was highlighted when I got into a co-ed education system. I was certainly one of the ugliest. The third wheel. The nobody.

Imagine being treated like you are nothing during your peak teen years! The worst is, I started accepting it too, because my big breasts and huge ass were already topics during family meetups. 

Dark circles. Sunken eyes. Dark and pigmented skin. Teeth gap. Dark lips. Huge nose. Ugly enough, right? Heck! I didn't even know how to smile for a picture! 

Even when I looked decent in pics, I was told, that's because I am just photogenic. Which I believe even today. 

So, ugly girls aren't supposed to fall for good looking men, right? And I made that mistake not once, but quite a few times. Ofcourse I was rejected, but I ended up believing that's coz I was not good looking. 

I was even sarcastically labelled a "catfish" recently by someone I met online, because my 30+ self does not look like how I was in my 20s. Wait, what? So, do you mean I wasn't ugly then, but only now? 😷 

Now, I have started to learn that after all, "beauty is in the eyes of the beholder" and certainly, beholders I come across do not have basic sense about beauty 🌝

I have resumed clicking selfies now after that long period of hating my face and self and I kind of like what I see on my screen.