Choices…

I know this is my choice, my descion, self- inflicted source…so who do rant to about this!?, who do I complain to, I cant stand in front of the mirror and point fingers to myself and say “its your own damn fault!!”

I see his great wisdom at work, I am foolish enough to make mistakes, but wise enough to have a conscience that would hit me.

…but not anymore… Boredom and Lethargy are settling in my pores, weighing my eyelids down; making me unable to think about myself with regret. So much wisdom at hindsight-all the signs by the universe cannot stop me from thinking about it…which is clogging my senses and preventing the foul odor my scruples from reaching this thick brain of mine.

I can’t help but wonder about the choice I have made…I didn’t plan for this, Noosiree…I did not plan to be institutionalized.

I didn’t choose away my freedom. I didn’t choose away by sleep, my weekends, and my shopping sprees.

What I want is so much more than what Life is offering me right now, and these little desires which surface make it difficult for me to turn away…I can finally see that the parts do not add up to a whole.

Is this my perdition!?....do I have to sit through a lecture of a self bloated prof. do I have to turn down an invitation to fly down to another city. It’s the little girl again throwing tantrums… again…

I’m sitting through my lectures…dealing with a grumbling sciatic area…gives a new meaning to the phrase “pain in the ass”….

Excuses apart, I have to learn to live with my choices, I have to discern my desires and curb my impulses. I have to look at the bigger picture and stop my sub-conscience from getting the better of my “superego”.

What a fun prospect!!

Impulse…

So can a woman regret a good impulse!? OH yes!

In many ways there is a part of me that sighs in smug satisfaction at what I just did. That part of me is one that reads Ayn Rand, Paul Coelho, Ethics of Philosophy and The Holy Vedas. Then there is the part of me.. the pea brained, demented soul living on her impulse… singing at a Karaoke bar, driving down to Goa, deciding to leave for Lonavla at 8:00 pm, screaming in a open air café obscenities to mortify a friend (and boy did it work), the footsies, the sculling, the jives…

…the delight of being youthful.

..so I had another impulse, crawling in my brain but, its success was not my fate to decide. So like a dutiful daughter I ran up to him, with the toddler smile, I posed my request. Much to my surprise… Appa agreed… he smiled like a wise man and said… “I call it the dream of every youth and therefore I regret being old”

I rarely spend time with him these days. I forget his unassuming background. I forget how many impulses he might have trampled for me to fulfill mine.

And its not my conscience that smotes me…its his legacy that I have shrugged off that pinches me. Because somewhere in me, in my being that wallows constantly in self pity, there is his heritage. His words are always his to command, a small feat for a man who could often command his emotions- a heroic task for the likes of me.

… I smiled back “…being old makes you wiser Pa, I think I am growing up too”.

Small Wonders….

I detect negative energy very well- emitting from me, directed towards me and when it’s all around me, I call it “vibes”. I get this feeling in the mid regions right where my rib cage ends!

Some other feelings are like it too, anxiety, loneliness, fear --bone deep, silent kind! But when this feeling stays and knots into a dull sort of pain, that’s when I know how much I distrust it and how much I am in awe of it.

But amidst all the eloquent woes of mine, I have tried to keep myself surrounded by happy things, Happy couples, close friends and of course,Pree- if there is a goddess of positivism, she has been reincarnated.

But lately I have been waking up not feeling myself. Everyday has been a routine of:

Gritty eyes-check!! headache-check!!...lazy pissed off attitude-check!!

..the work, the deadlines, the non cooperating team members…just don’t add to any positive feeling.

And when negativism enters my life, it pervades its existence to all the other aspects of my life. I don’t want it too, but it just happens.

It’s funny what all you can do without trying at all. All the spiritual books in the world, all those little prayers in the night, don’t get rid of the evil. Sleep is just a temporary relief.

Then I tried, “selective perception” and *Blink* ….the unhappy me went on a holiday and in came the school girlish attitude. – giggly , incredibly uncontrolled!!

Little things made me happy - new shoes, new clothes, “shudder” pink outlandishly cute bottle, and cartoons ( so glad to see popeye was back in english)

Then of course there were the meaningful things - Lunch with mom, conversations with an old friend, demented laughter spree on bizarre self portraits, bike ride with a friend, phone calls from a distance...just to say what’s up…and... little gestures from the unexpected ones.

Life ain’t that bad after all.