An old Indian aunty knocked at my door this morning asking whether I knew why the person who lives next door to me isn’t opening his front door.
This is what ensued:
A: You speak Hindi?
Me: Sorry, no, I only speak English.
A: Which country are you from?
A: Which part?
Me: Uh, Bangalore.
A: You speak Kannada?
Me: No, I don’t know Kannada.
A: You’re from Bangalore and you don’t know Kannnada? How come?
Me: Erm, I don’t know. I usually speak English.
A: Are you a Catholic?
Me: What? No, I’m not a Catholic.
A: Which caste are you from?
It is as if my hand has been crushed to a pulp beneath the piston of a giant engine. Instead of being amputated, it remains attached to my arm, and I can do nothing but watch as it festers and rots. Soon it won’t matter that it was only my hand that was destroyed, for the gangrene will have taken over my entire body and there will be nothing left to salvage.
It is important that I remember that even though it feels like the world is ending, it isn’t. A slice of my life isn’t going well at this point. Not the entire pie. Obsessing over it isn’t going to help anyone, least of all me. It will only drive me further into misery and make all the other parts of my life go wrong too. I must somehow find a way to stay stable. Forget being happy – that’s a little too ambitious at this point. It will suffice for me to stay stable and take each day as it comes. Stop reliving the past and aching over what I could have done differently. It’s over. I can’t change anything. All I can do now is try to make amends. If that works out, great. I’ll be a better person for it. If it doesn’t work out, that’s okay. I’ll be a better person for it.
(Do you think this is too much text for a tattoo?)
I often wish I could put my brain in a vice and squash my thoughts into non-existence.
I must stop looking for reasons to be upset.
The problem with blurting out everything I think – although it ensures spontaneity – is that I sometimes end up revealing a half-formed opinion. On further reflection I might refine my view, or even change it completely, but what I said is already out there and the damage has been done.
It’s funny how these thoughts that seemed so pivotal and life-altering in my head suddenly take on the mantle of mundane common sense when I sit to write them down. But all the same, I shall keep writing. It’s therapeutic. And it makes me chuckle.
Be young with me. Let’s meet in a cafe and linger for hours over a solitary cup of tea, drawing patterns in the dregs as our conversation slides from the familiar comfort of sarcasm and innuendo into the exhilarating terror of actually sharing something of ourselves.
Listen to my epiphanies on love and human nature. I may have a mere thimbleful of life experience, but allow me to speak as if I draw upon the wisdom of several centuries of existence.
Tell me your stories, your regrets, your fears. I can’t promise that I won’t judge you, or that I won’t use your words against you someday, but in this moment I will hang on every word you say and internalize your reflections as if they were my own.
Hold my hand on a moonlit walk and steal a kiss from me as we linger at midnight on a street corner. Bring me a rose simply because you “passed a florist and happened to think of me”. I hate flowers, but I will love you for it.
I furtively covet your future, but openly I ask only for your present. I dream of growing old with you, but when I wake up all I will bring myself to say is this:
We are here. This is now. Be young with me.
I didn’t want IE8. I really didn’t. I like keeping my software up to date, but I know from experience (read: hours spent wrestling with Office 2007 and trying to help my dad figure out Vista on his office comp) that with Microsoft, newer isn’t usually better. So despite it being nearly 4 months since its release, I didn’t download it. I’ve enabled automatic updates on my computer because of Microsoft’s constant harping about how not updating regularly will leave your system vulnerable to attack. Last night I received instructions to install IE8 as part of the updates. An innocuous-looking installation wizard popped up. It was late, I was sleepy, and I unthinkingly clicked Okay. Cut to the present. I tried to boot into windows, only to see a black screen with the words
Windows could not start because the following file is missing or corrupt:
Please re-install a copy of the above file.
Luckily, I have a dual boot with Ubuntu so I was able to look it up online. As this succinct explanation puts it, Microsoft has outdone itself. Internet Explorer 8 has a bug which deletes the boot file boot.ini and prevents Windows from finding critical system files like hal.dll (which allows software applications to communicate with hardware devices in the system). Now I have to dig up my XP cd and do a repair. Peachy.