Tag Archives: Fear

To Memories and Mom!

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Today, I took a break from my normal day and spent it wisely – mostly reading Dianne’s blog. I had been busy with my German classes and photography work, keeping myself away from my much-needed reading and writing dose.

Reading her blog made me wonder about many things and I ended up writing 2 stories. One of them I will share here, while other will have to wait.

I was reading an article ‘Memory-Go-Round’, in the said blog and it got me wondering about my first memory, unlike my school days, which I hated so much, I remember most of my younger years. I can recall my memories up to the time when I started talking.

My very first memory needs a bit clarification like,

–          Duppata is a piece of cloth used by women in my religion, to cover their head, which younger generation is gladly skipping these days.

–          While I love my father for standing by all his kids in the time of need, he hasn’t been the father or husband of the year all along.

–          I come from a large family, where my younger aunts(dad’s sisters), 4 of them, spent about 10 or more years with us till they got married, finally!

–          My mother lost her mom when she was 2 and life hasn’t been very kind to her after that.

–          Getting physically beaten, is sadly very common phenomena in my part of the world, to the extent, being slapped is considered a mere expression of affection, the other person holds for the victim. Kids are beaten by parents and wives by husbands, and as much as I hate to admit it, picture isn’t pretty even today.

Now, coming back to the first memory, “the very first thing I remember from my child hood is pulling my mother’s duppatta off of my aunts head, as she used to consider wearing my mom’s best of cloths her birth right, and I hated that from the start. I remember kicking her, hitting her, putting the best fight a young one can put to get her to give the piece of cloth up.  I remember screaming at her to never to touch it again.”, My mom thinks that time, i was around 2.

Thinking of Dianne’s article, I realized how much my first memory reflected my whole life. I have been a Daughter, a Sister, a Wife, a Manager, a Subordinate and much more, but the only thing I have done with all of my heart and strength is, to protect my mother.

Don’t get me wrong my mom is the strongest person I have ever met, but she seems to have immense tolerance for the people she loves and no one can save her from her self-chosen hell.  Ever since I was a kid, I used to tell her that I am actually her long-lost mother, who is here to take care of her.

I haven’t always been courageous in life, but I am glad when it came to protecting my mother, I never felt afraid.

I remember telling my dad to never hit my mother again and getting beaten up instead at 10.

I remember buying her treats from any penny I could save and later when I started earning, I loved buying presents for her for no reason at all.

I can never forget the day my otherwise shy mom told me about her health and how I dragged her to the doctor, knowing something was very wrong.

I am glad I was able to nurse her back to health from being taken down by that scary uterine cancer , and now she feels quite strong.

I have never cried in front of my mother, for I know how much my being strong means to her. I might fail at a thousand things, but my only wish is to never fail my mom.

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Fearless, My @$$!

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Few weeks back, on a Saturday night, I turned the corner and found a fair. A real ‘Fair’, here, in Netherlands, Just like the one we had back home, with all the rides and food and people and  Beer, boy so much of beer, I had never seen. (we do not get that back home). Anyhow, I was feeling extra alive that night so I screamed to my man for taking me to all the rides. He wasn’t so sure, cause the one I wanted to begin with, was really scary and he didn’t know if I could handle it. But with much of pulling from my side and little bit rebuttals from his, we ended up with the tickets to the scariest ride of my life.

While getting on the ride was fun, and get off was much awaited, but every thing in between was a colourful blur.  But when I was on the ride I found every one, either laughing, screaming, crying, some throwing up, I mean every one was active except for me. I was quiet as stone and some times closed my eyes when it got really scary, letting it go on.  You see I am not the dare-devil kinds, but I also rarely chicken out of things, even if it gets really nasty.

The ride was fun, and I know I probably would like to do it again, but it got me seriously thinking about something that was wrong.

I know, I know I pick on myself more than any one else would dare to do with me, but that’s how you get better in life, I think! But, I realized, while I may not quit all together, I never let myself go with things either. Life is like a Roller coaster Ride, I am okay with all the ups and downs and being pulled around with G-forces and all, but often enough I find myself get lost in my happy place, trying to stay as still as I can, waiting for things to settle down. I do not kick back, I do not stare in its eyes, I do not throw up.

For example, I promised myself to write every day, and I do. if you are wondering about the missing articles, well they are all lying in my drafts because I recently updated my subscribers widget and noticed that I had a few kind souls reading all the bull shit I put out there, and now I can not publish my posts. I mean I do not want to stop writing, but what if I am not good enough.   I don’t want to let any one down! (what crap!)

I wrote this particular piece the following Monday after that fair, but never got around posting it. Now that I know, I do this, I might be able to fix but…. what a sad ass way to go man… I need to grow up.

 

 

Life, huh!

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My fingers have been a little shaky lately, and I feel a pit in my stomach too deep to be dealt with, so I ponder no more.

No, I am not sick, not now I think, but I still can not shake the weakness off my soul.

Well, that’s how I feel when I get nostalgic or have a nausea of a cause, I can not single out.

And moments ago, as I sat here, watching the last episode of Scrubs season 8, somewhere between the song, I figured, what’s wrong.

Ever since this year has started, every thing has changed, every Single thing. (Not complaining, I know it’s for good!)

I have finally found the nicest place, but it’s not HOME!!!

I can not understand most of the words I hear in the street,  I no longer know the best cereal brands out there, so I don’t get to have my blueberry mornings, my Skippy is no longer chunky and I can’t find the same cosy fragrance of my fabric conditioner. So, no, it’s not the Same….

I am in way better shape than I was, just a few months ago, but still every few days I have to Push myself just to go on…

I guess that’s what you call, The Fear of Unknown….

Damn you, the fear! I am not afraid, so I will go on, just a moment more….

Diary of a wanna be bitch!

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I hate confrontations, I mean, who likes to stick their neck out and jump right into the hurt zone. I just want to mind my steps, never stepping on anyone’s path, forget about toes. I don’t want people to think I am bad. I want to be the nice one, the one who would heal.

But does it work out like that? – No Sir.

I end up letting things go way beyond control, repair or rebuild.

My silence sends a wrong message,

My procrastination on facing the truth spoils it beyond recognition and I lose the battle way before I step into the field. Nothing good ever comes out of it, then why am I still on the same path, making the same mistakes over and over again?

I need to stand up, without losing my head. Fight without fear or anger, fight for who I am and what I want to be. But I am so scared. Scared to take the first step, towards being that manipulative bitch, who, don’t just survives.

**Only text is mine, image is thankfully borrowed from “www.bestgallerytattoofor2012.blogspot.com”

 

Cloudy days!

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It rained today, bitter cold rain, came pouring down, not just on the outside but also on my plans of a quick 3 mile run. I know, I wrote about hopes, luck and high spirits a day before, but isn’t today another day?

 I have been tipsy since yesterday, dint write a thing, dint click a picture, been too happy, too sad!

 The thing we worked for all year-long, prayed day and night and hoped for to happen has happened yesterday, leaving me to wonder how I will go along. My Man, MY MAN, is moving away, not to another city, another town but to a whole new world, a far continent away. I haven’t been afraid in a long while, but last night I dreamt of being bullied again. He gave me the courage, I so needed to fight off my fears and now I am worried if I really had it in me all along.

He will be away and I will be here waiting to join him some day. Would I be same without him? Would I be able to carry on? I seem to be suddenly afraid of the dark. I know I need to be strong, if not for mine then for his sake, so that he can leave in peace. Is it stupid to pretend to be strong on the outside and come over here and spell out your each fear? I don’t know, I don’t wish to find out. I know life is not going to be same and for that I need to get strong.