Glory box

I’m heading off to days of unending penury, play lists that don’t change for weeks, bhindi for lunch and big goofy smile, never letting the curtains sway an inch and then step out after a week cursing the rain….but forced to tolerate nature because I have to buy pot yes, or rather force my male friends while I tap my feet like a prized brat, parties with dress codes of halter and jeans where I know everyone and everyone knows me, and we all mingle with enemies and past lovers as if nothing ever happened and we are so gloriously over it, butter chicken at 4 in the morning, and screaming out loud for the hundredth time because he misplaced the bob marley cd AGAIN! And cribbing everytime I have to get out because I’ll be dripping wet when I’m back, muddy feet, stupid people, pepperoni a million fucking times, people refusing to let me put jazz, and when I do, a faint Radio Mirchi hits my ears, should I kill them or not? Should I go to Pondicherry? Can I afford Dupleix right now? Are Chennai cabs safe?

So I’m confused. There’s not too much time left for me to be denied this option altogether so I’m good. Not too much mind numbing psycho sessions on this time. I’m going to be calm and bring it ON. And I’m going to meet my dog… happiness! That’s the only bright light right now, of course, perfectly ignoring the possibility of him refusing to recognize me at all, which is when I kill myself and drive out of this purposeless existence. Hee hee. Never going to happen. He loves me. I think. No, he does. Yes, definitely. But I’ve changed my perfume! You retard, that doesn’t matter! Oh.

**

I have recently met someone very special. In fact, he’s so special that he makes me suspicious. Because I have come to realize that I’ve had way too many ‘special’ men in my life. BUT, we are not going to fuck up things this time with my commitment phobia issues, I mean, surely they are always going to be there … I think he understands all that I mumble. And he is a rock star. What more do I need? Um, let’s see. Him in the same city. But this is good too; I like the freedom of having and yet not having. And how I’m the only one who knows. So I will be the only one when it falls apart. Or alternately, when it gets better
**

Why do people hate dogs? And why is there no Hitler-like character to do away with such chuts? I imagine this huge SS army convoys who do secret round-ups in cities and night, ‘so, you think your neighbor hates dogs?’ ‘Do you have proof?’ ‘What? He doesn’t aww like an imbecile at that hutch ad?’
Ok, off they go. To fuck their happiness. So much more barbaric than killing Jews no? but this is good barbaric, and I’m all for it. This stupid woman keeps on calling me up to whine about me having a dog at my place. I don’t want to show her the picture like it is or anything but she’s pushing me to it. Considering she’s a ‘friend’ and he’s my ‘everything’ for the last 3 years, no Ford Ikon for guessing who I’m going to opt for. Do I tell her to throw her Ipod in a bin when it starts playing Shakira and polluting the environment of my house? Or do I tell her to stop buying everything I buy.. perfume, lingerie, freakin’ lamp-shades! So she’ll have to live with it, he’s so NOT going into my room when she’s around. She can just order her pizza and get fatter and get over her phobia already. Mmmmm. Possessiveness brings out the best in me.

**
Yesterday I met Jat boy. Why I call him Jat boy belies understanding because he’s not a Jat and quite cute looking, but I find it amusing that he makes it a point to explain his entire ancestry everytime I call him that. Ha ha. Cheap thrills.
I don’t pity him. No. He’s much more stronger than that. But I feel so goddamn spoilt and useless whenever I meet him. Where do people get their strength from? And still be so nice, and still be the way men were actually supposed to be. I know Jat boy likes me since forever. But there’s always been someone or the other barring his way. But it was nice that he didn’t try this time. And how he never tries because he knows that never works with me. Just talked about how we hate ‘kids’ and how THIS is going to decide the next ten years of my life. I love the fact that he asks, “ how are things at home” in such an uncharacteristic and non-pitying manner. And when I smile and get vague, he bangs on Led Zep as if nothing happened. Yes, I need more simple people around me. And not “ guess WHATTTTTT!! Dad is buying me a Fiesta. Ab toh full on party!”
Errr, okay!

**
I’ve never written about him. Too much bitterness for a long time now. But it’s over. And now it feels good. Now I can see all that he did. And all those times when I drove him mad, knowing that I’m too difficult for him. And too neurotic, but he tried a lot. Really tried a lot. While I gave up ages ago. I just wish he never gets to know that. He saw something different and it broke my heart. Because we were never there. I taught him too many things he didn’t need to know. He wouldn’t need all this.. because I’ll never let him be with a woman like me. Ha. Even he needs someone simple.
I’m not trying to take myself too seriously here…I just saw the other side of things and was running away from it for almost an year.
Now that I've reached a 'new chapter' as Jat boy puts it, there are too many songs for him… and a box full of paints