The myth of the perfect relationship

It’s like a fashion magazine with photo shopped versions of artificial women in its pages; only there is no evil magazine, our girl friends are our enemies.

The friend with the perfect relationship- she has no problems, the guy is perfect, the man of her dreams, no they never have any problems, she only wishes you were this lucky. Some are more subtle, but if you hear closely, you can hear the insanity in her voice too, the total lack of honesty; the need to fool herself. Introducing - The lie of the perfect relationship.

Look at your grandparents- they’ve been together for 50 years or more. Do they say things were perfect? Does your grandmother say her husband is the epitome of perfection? If she is anything like mine she says the opposite. He is not perfect, neither is she. Real couples have problems, they have issues, and you probably need to choose many times in your lifetime if you want to stay together or leave. This is a real relationship and sadly I find that having a real relationship these days is apparently not good enough, just as having a real body is not.

Perfect relationship lies around me seem to be perpetuated by women, by supposed girlfriends, by colleagues. To me it seems like you are doing yourself and your friends a disservice by not sharing, sharing is good, sharing your troubles makes you realize you are not alone, it makes people respond in kind, you can see both sides of the issue; telling thoughtless lies, not so good. You feel guilty for lying; realize now you have to live up to these lies and feel even worse when you can’t. People around you now feel they have to tell the same lies for fear of being seen a lesser woman; same vicious circle follows. Single women feel they need to find these perfect guys who will make all their troubles go away. What a complete bunch of bullcrap women put themselves though, have you seen men do this? They don’t feel they have to tell their friends that their life is perfect they don’t feel the need to justify their need be with a person. Why do women? It is a hard thing to rebel against, this lie, when everyone around you is saying everything is perfect and you say it’s not; you are with a monster then aren’t you? Cause only that could make you say that it is not perfect, he must be beating you? What kind of low self esteem causes you to derive pleasure from an illusion; are we trying to fool ourselves or someone else?

While I was sitting on the balcony looking at the tea lamps.....

Every year, around autumn I find my thoughts tend to meander; instead of my usual brisk walk, I walk a little slowly. As the leaves change their color, and the air gets chilly I long for a cup of coffee and a book. But sadly my mind won’t leave me, I wonder about the year gone by, about changes and constants. About what is important to me and what it means to be me.

It changes, this idea I have in my mind of who I am. I am strong and confident and scared and a sham. I am an extrovert and an introvert, trusting and careful, kind and giving and mean and spiteful. But no matter what I am that day, I have this deep sense in my soul that I am all I have. This is not to say, I don’t have a great boyfriend, great friends and relatives. I am blessed that so many people care for me. But I have me, and to me i am perfect. I do wrong things, I see that; I will change and will have to, I know that, but no matter what- I am my home, I am my savior, I am my critic and my devotee.

Tattoos and memories

As she walks in the garden a slight breeze starts blowing. A stray leaf gets caught in her hair. It’s not a leaf, it’s a memory. It’s a memory with sounds and smells and tastes. It has too many details, details she thought she would forget.

Paris : The dark & rich aroma of coffee, a very handsome Belgian waiter and the sound my cute sandals made on the pavement.

Kerela: Green so green my eyes felt new. Lamps in the night and fireworks across the lake.

Bangalore: Home finally.

Mumbai: Humid bit fun. Loud but laid back. Dirty but organized.

Indore: Same old same old. Grandmother with some new wrinkles. Fragile yet potent.

Fun in the sun

Mountains or the ocean? Its the ocean for me. Every time.

Summer is almost here, hold on.

Of lies and perceptions

I am jealous, of happy people. Even fake happy people.

You can't be that happy, woman with chase checking account in magazine ad. Go away. Leave me be.
Stop making movies where the cute guy falls in love with the gorgeous woman, and oh by the way the gorgeous woman is actually supposed to be a geek. And oh we forgot to add, the guy has a fortune. Yeah sure.

Now I think I know.

Evangelists think fighting global warming will lead to more abortions. Woman posts video of her driving on the highway protesting against Saudi rules. Violent protests in Tibet. Good Indian food for lunch. Wondering where to hide from a gunman if he comes into the classroom. Grant proposal needs to be rewritten.Again. Bought flights for the wrong time.Delta customer service sucks hardcore. Need to work hard. Now. Need to work out more. Buy stuff for random people in India.

Starry Starry night. Coffee. Breathe in. Breathe out. Blessed Silence.

Desert Rose

I put my hand in the stream as the sun reflects off the water surface. It becomes a part of the stream, reflecting light, moving with a strange grace.

I think women are like that, they become a part of their new families, new environments, new cities, naturally and almost effortlessly. They breathe in the new air, new freedoms and customs and live like life had always been the same. I think we bend without losing our shape and let go without losing our self.

January-21-2008

I am going to be 24 in a couple of months. I am madly in love with life. Even when I am tired and sad, I love life. I love each moment in my life, I love the luxury of sitting on my table on this beautiful winter day and writing while sipping juice, everything about this moment seems like decadence.

Book review: The Kite runner

Writing is mediocre at best, the hero a whining coward, difficult to feel any sympathy for him, maybe he wanted it that way? The story, powerful in the least.

Invite only.

So, I decided I want to go invite only. I am not really sure why I did that, except that modifying entries to remain anonymous was getting old. This was supposed to be an online diary and then became something else, I think I want to try and go back to being a dairy.