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

Wasteland

Something happened over the past two days. Our next door neighbours, or rather one particular family (like all metrizens in this cramped city, we live within literally, touching distance of the others in our neighbourhood), have decided to demolish their home. Fine, so what, you ask. They see how valuable land now is. Who can blame them? But along with their home, they have also decided to kill off the two trees -- a mango tree and a coconut tree -- in their compound. I used to look at those trees from my kitchen window. The mango tree, in particular, was a welcome sight. Bunches of ripe green fruit used to hang heavily from it. Looking at it, I'd think of my home in Kerala -- of the time when I was a little girl in a white petticoat helping my father pluck mangoes as they slowly changed from parrot green to a golden reddish-yellow-orange shade. That was our annual summer ritual, you see. My father plucked mangoes using a long stick with a hook or a 'kokka' (in my collo...

Morning scenes

The wind blustery Skies grey blue A light so muted Birds are quiet too We walkers go Sidestepping Couple-dancing No touching Looking or meeting Glances…Oh no!   Masks dangling From chins Below noses Hanging from one ear Or sometimes Fitting so properly Covering everything So no one can see Or know What we’re really like.   Runners running Soundlessly Iron determination Seeping through So much so   That dogs being walked Know they cannot Wag tails Or even Bark a greeting.   Two men Creating content One breaking into Hair flipping, body popping Dance Faithful friend filming In fits and starts As a security guard Sips his chai Utterly bemused.

This is why acid attacks continue to destroy lives

  Last week, I went to my local kirana store and bought a bottle of ‘acid’. You know the kind of store I mean -- one those neighbourhood shops that stocks everything from groceries to greens, to cheap Made-in-China toys, to household germ killers. I wanted acid to clean my bathroom. So the friendly shopkeeper called out to his assistant: “Hey, get that bottle of ‘acid’, will you.” “Do I need to wear gloves or any protective clothing,” I asked. “No, you can either use it as is, or dilute it,” he replied. The shopkeeper did not ask me for either age-proof or id. The other patrons around me saw nothing amiss, either. They went about their purchases. So for just Rs 60, I gingerly carried a bottle of ‘acid’ home. Life went on as usual. But should it? Shouldn't we all be more concerned that acid can be bought so easily? Did you know that the Supreme Court has laid down a number of guidelines against such sale or purchase of acid, in order to prevent acid attacks? For in...