A Dollop of Emotional Puke; BCC: God.

Its been a bad Saturday for me.

1. I slept and overslept, each time expecting the problem  to poof when I woke up next. And my oversleeping explains whatever happened to the problem. 

2. The persons  in my life are preoccupied. With work and subsequent recreation. And of course, if nothing else boredom, but not me. I feel unimportant.

3. I saw the futility of many activities which usually are associated with the circumstance of being stuck in a problem: crying, cribbing, swearing, indvertent and unconcious fasting and yes, praying.

I have  been waiting for long now for miracles of prayer with no result. I should not have been exposed to that many mythological serials as a child. I over-rely it seems, on power of prayer. And Mr. Williams (my overtly and fanatically Christian School Principal) only worsened matters.

Usually when in hostel, the escapist mantra during college-oriented depression is "I wanna go home", but whats my mantra now? 

Does God read blogs?

I cannot as a matter of right ask for a better future, but why cannot I ask now to be like a past I have lived already?

Why cannot reciprocation in love and relationship come on its own to all like nature's calls? And why poiting out the requriement of reciprocation in all times so embarrassing to me? Why cannot I claim what I deserve, or to me it appears I deserve?

Why can I not like all those others I know of, be at some Saturday Nite party? Why my life is such that I need to a write a depressing blog on a Saturday evening for others to read in their leisure time?

I want to sleep. I want to wake up sorted out. I want to rebelieve in the power of prayer. I want to be normal. And I want to use my writing for better thoughts than to use it as an emotional sink. 

Over.

And out.

Phew?

Amen. (Or should I not be saying this? Have I turned atheist?)

Public Transport and The Fifth Sense.

There are times I sit and fascinate about how he shall make love to me, and think how I would say "C'mon Mark, make me feel like a woman"; and at others I just hate being reminded that I'm one".

I m not a single child and since childhood have learnt to share- bags, pencil boxes, lunch boxes et. al. I have learnt not to be 'clingingly possessive' about my stuff. Having shared my room with a roommate for over 3 years in the hostel, I have learnt to 'adjust'. But then all my experience at adaptation, accomodation, non-possessivenss and adjustment betrays me each time I travel in a DTC!

You convolute yourself, shaming Ramdev, holding with your right hand a point which is exactly 325 degrees from the point where your left hand is, with your feet sturggling to find some unoccupied space enough just to rest the toes. And trust me, life still seems tolerable till you realize that even after such intestinal posture of yours you are unable to avoid the 'touch' of 'that something' on your backside! 

You are scared to complain. The lack of space is evident, but then is such a touch because of the lack of space or hormonal uprising of some opportunistic bastard? Its amusing how people can turn horny at the worst of place. More amusing is the gratification they achieve with tiny offending sexual/ or so sexually secular acts if seen objectively!

In my last such encounter, which courageously of me, was not the last bus journey i undertook ever, 'the man' actually had the audacity to look in to my face and pose a 'how-was-i' look. 

I could only stare back, putting up a face which I couldnot myself crosscheck if actually portrayed anger and contempt. 

What now? Creating a rucus in public transport on daily basis is not a viable option. Grinning  (or even fuming) and bearing such actions is not an option either. All of us cannot afford luxury and allied stress of driving in Delhi, and even if we can why should women alone  give up the option of this particular public transport? This has been bothering me intermittently, each time I come back to Delhi and travel, but it affects many more everyday! 

I cannot end, no matter how much i want to, with a 'ting tiding', 'here-it-is' kind of solution, but then, is there anything that strikes you can be done rather than lofty ideas like pulling such person by neck to the nearest possible police station?

"What could you possibly lose, other than a few cells, if someone pinched your buttock in a DTC bus?"

"Well, I could lose my mind, my temper and my patience, and kill him (or at least stamp his feet to almost death!)."