Friday, September 18, 2009

Blissful ignorance

You know what annoys me? When i walk into a room i hate, smelling of the kind of the food i would never eat, full of the urban human waste i would never consider being friends with, breathing the air full of snobbery and lordliness that chokes me, making everyone in the room feel like they have the lowest level of happiness possible, and that everyone else is better, and i come across this constantly smiling little shit, blissfully unaware that the world is not the rainbow-blessed paradise she has made it out to be in her head.

The world is not a happy place. We have war, recession, loans, murder, stress and the Disney Channel. It's not easy being a regular person in the horrible, decaying excuse for a world we live in. I am not saying this should depress you and turn you into one of the people who die a little bit inside everyday because they hate themselves and their lives so much.

All i am saying is, there are flaws in this perfect world man has created for himself that we tend to, or try to, overlook, just to keep our own happiness intact, even if it is at the expense of the wonderful moulding into more complete human beings we could have had if we had accepted these facts.

There is this girl i know. Bright, nice, clever and on the rare occasion that she tries very, very hard, funny. She is the poster girl for perfectionists around the world. Perfect test scores, perfect friends and perfect values.

And this, for lack of a better word, has fucked her up.

She has never been anywhere outside of a five kilometer radius of her house unaccompanied by her parents. She, inspite of all her intelligence, is doing a correspondence course from one of the best educational institutes this country has to offer, at the expense of getting a regular course at the same college, which, besides having more value, would finally mean she would be compelled to break out of the comfortable little geographical shell she had so conveniently created for herself.

The reason for her close proximity to perfection is not ambition or greed. She, as i found out recently, is merely a puppet on a string. A little string puppet being controlled by her parents to squeeze as many marks out of her as possible.

In no way does this justify her behaviour. I am just saying that perhaps the cause for such behaviour is her upbringing which, for the most of it, is her parents.

My point here is this. This girl is perfectly happy living in a world where Mum and Dad take care of everything, and nothing can go wrong. In spite of all her bliss, she has been deprived of all the life experiences she could have had if she had been outside that 5 km shell.

Yes, she would be in world where her parents wouldn't be there to shield her eyes from all the evils in the world, to block out all the images that might provoke a violent or even an excited reaction. In short, to phase out everything that might have compelled her mind to work on its own.

I ask you, would that have been so bad?

I don't intend to wipe out happiness from the lives of those reading this. I like being happy, more so nowadays (just ask the people who have known me since way before). Being happy makes it easier to get through.

I just want to wipe the smile off the face of that ignorant, precious little pumpkin who is so happily unconscious of the fact that there are big, bad wolves who are waiting to pounce the moment she turns her back on them, that the world isn't all happy and fine, that the only reason she has been able to live a life where she had sunshine on a cloudy day was because everyone around her put up the picture of a beach day in front of her window when it rained. That the only reason she never got mugged on a public bus was because she had never been on one. That the only reason she never experienced bad food was because she only ate at places people had eaten at before. That she never got stuck in traffic because daay gave her a ride to her destinations two hours before the due time. That the only reason she is happy all the friggin' time is because she is yet to exprience what the real world is.

Welcome to the real world honey. We may not be the happiest people, but at least we know why.

Monday, September 7, 2009

The diary of a deranged romantic

I can make you think you know
me inside out, but know this, no.
You don't know me half as well,
as you think, though you love me so.

I'm not the perfect little boy,
that little bundle full of joy,
that you knew once, and really did.
I am no longer your play toy.

I have my mind, i use it too.
I do what I like, and i like what i do.
And know this, as you sleep at night.
Somebody will be watching you.

Somebody will be standing by,
the glint of murder in his eye.
A rusted blade held in his hand,
smiling, he'll bid you goodbye.

And then, he'll simply turn around,
throw his knife away, for he is bound,
by any love that's left for you,
come back to bed, without a sound.

But, my dear, this still is true,
one day I'll end what i must do.
The monsters underneath your bed,
fear the one lying next to you.

Until that day, my love, unstrain.
I still love you, i will refrain,
from doing what i must tonight.
Tomorrow night, i'll try again.

It's not your fault you changed so much,
we had our times and fights and such.
But now i cannot live with you,
disgusted by your very touch.

And soon, when all this love will go,
you'll know pain, as i already know.
For, you don't know me half as well,
as you think, though you love me so.