Skip to main content

Facing up to my life, not Facebook!

Yesterday morning, 11 am.

A pressure cooker full of vegetables and dal steams away shrilly in the kitchen; on a nearby bench lies a mass of coriander and methi leaves yet to be cleaned and sorted; beyond that, in the sink are dirty dishes, needing to be washed; the child sits on the floor in the adjoining room, tinkering with his mechanical set--toys scattered in a circle around him. Of course, he is blissfully oblivious to the line of books he has knocked over, in a corner.

I have not breakfasted yet. (Little man has, thankfully, else he would have been starving by now). Nor started cooking, let alone made any sort of effort at cleaning (my cook/maid played truant again, the third time this month, sigh).

Then I hear a couple of familiar 'pings' on my 'phone and before you can say, "what a mess", there I am checking Facebook. I had posted a couple of photos of said child and my friends are loving the photos. I am gratified, naturally. And say so in my replies to their comments on FB.

Yesterday afternoon, 2 pm.

I've had a mini meltdown, shouted at the son, whacked him, said terrible things to him. Now I feel like a total monster, a total fraud.

No, I've not posted that on FB.

Sometimes, I find it easier to post about my life on FB than actually, really 'live' it fully, meaningfully, happily. There's a learning in that, for me, somewhere.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Why is it...

Why is a magazine always more interesting when your friend is poring over it? For that matter, when you stop at one of those little ricketey jewellery shops that dot M G's and Brigades, why is it that you're suddenly surrounded by an inquisitive crowd of men, women, boys and girls? I guess that's just human nature. Or like that other universal law of nature -- when you desperately need to flag down an autorickshaw, you won't find a single one and the roads will be emptier than the Sahara during a dust-storm. But when you don't want an auto, you'll find those little black and yellow beetles-on-three-wheels sidle past you with the drivers giving you the onceover through their rear view mirrors! But then when things go wrong, the day begins wrong. You wake up with the feeling that you've had a terribly embarrassing dream in which you've done rather weird things/stuff that you wouldn't admit to in the waking world. Then the coffee filter refuses to well,

An eight-legged ode to life

Shared a ride with a spider the other day. Didn't want to, actually. Just didn't spy it (him? her? well, not sure), in time, else I'd have vaulted out. Still, now that we were together, I was forced to acknowledge this other presence. And forced to, for once, actually observe a spider in action. Each time our auto swerved--and believe you me there were potholes aplenty on our route-- spider would swing precariously on an unbelievably thin thread. The auto went right, spider swung left. The auto braked hard, spider was flung up, furiously. Cars honked, cyclists tottered dangerously close, other autos trundled past at breakneck speed. But spider didn't get dislodged. Spider didn't perish. That silken thread was pulled tortuously taut more than once, but it didn't break. And spider's balance never slipped. Watching this most un-comely of creatures perform a tightrope dance to survive in our urban jungle, fascinated me. Spider's confidence that it

Never just a cold

Sometimes it's just a sniffle Still feels so awful. Makes me want to waffle. Sometimes, it's the sneezing. So constant it's not pleasing. Incessant, very unpleasant. Sometimes, it's a whooshing in my ears. Head feels cloudy and unclear. And that I can't really bear. Sometimes, I just can't breathe It even makes me wheeze. Causes me so much grief. Sometimes, it's that streaming nose Terrible to lie comatose, Feebly trying to stem the flow. Because a cold is never, ever just that. Leaves me like a wet rat And knocks me out flat. _______________________