Here I am…

This is me. There’s no where else on earth I’d rather be. I’m home! And am I glad or what..

The journey back home was tiring. Right from the long wait at Heathrow to the never ending flight. I happened to be seated next to a squirming toddler and a very harassed mother. The moment I saw them, I felt sorry for the lady. Imagine having to control a loud, wiggly and restless two year old all by yourself, and also bear with the grimacing looks passed on to you by other intolerant passengers. I’ve always empathised with mothers traveling alone with kids and know what a task it is, so I decided to help out. I distracted him while his mom fed him and then we watched the clouds outside and played the game of forming mental images of animals with every visible cloud. I later moved to another seat while he slept so that it gave him the extra space to stretch his legs.

I then happened to sit with the crew. I tried reading, napping and chatting with the air hostesses, but time seemed to pass at a snail’s pace. After what seemed like a year, they finally announced the landing. That is when it hit me. In a few minutes I would be actually seeing my family! The impatience in me was evident by my behaviour, as I tried to rush the people in front of me to exit the aircraft.

Ofcourse, when you desperately wait for something, it has to be delayed. I hastily went through the customs to be able to get out as soon as possible. But then, one of my bags was missing. I waited at the baggage claim impatiently, but there was no sign. Soon all the passengers had left and an empty belt circulated, much to my dismay. I could begin to feel the onset of an anxiety attack as I realised that bag contained some important papers, without which I would be lost. I dragged myself to the right counter and reported my missing bag. I was delayed by another hour but they finally found my bag. Phew!

When I walked out, I spotted noone and wondered where they were. And then I saw them. My dad was looking out for me, and mom was in the midst of a conversation with A. I waved, they didn’t see me. I waved again. There was no response. I know where I get my blindness from, I thought to myself. I went closer and waved a third time. Dad saw me. I watched him turn around to the others and delightedly exclaim, ‘she is here!‘

I saw mom run towards me. That is when I decided I couldn’t take the distance that separated us anymore. I abandoned my trolley and ran towards her, into her embrace. And then into the arms of my smiling father. I am truly home.

I fear..

I am easily scared. Startled is more like it. Different things startle me and sound tops the list. A sudden shriek, a loud horn and I am sure to jump out of my skin. I then lie quivering, palpitating, gulping in air and trying to even my breath.

Sound isn’t the sole factor that brings out that reaction. I am generally fearful of anything that is even remotely frightening. I have always detested being home alone, especially at night. My mind rarely rests. I gaze at the shadows on the walls that are cast by night lamps and almost expect them to take ghostly shapes and pounce on me. I observe the light that shines through the gap beneath the doors and imagine people walking past my room. I hear fictive foot steps and my alert mind picks out the tiniest of sounds. I imagine evil spirits parading outside my room, awaiting the chance to attack me.

I try to trace my fears. I doubt its all the monsters from Goosebumps and Frankensteins spinning spooky stories in my head. What is it then? I remember my mom always narrating a paranormal experience that she had when my dad’s grandmother passed away. I grew up listening to that incident and I guess somewhere in my subconscious self, that fear was planted.

And, an incident which I shall never forget in this life time. It was the 4th day after my maternal grandfather passed away. I was sleeping in his bedroom. At that time, I proudly owned a teddy bear shaped key chain that sang ‘makarina’ when the button on the belly was pressed. I lay fast asleep when the sudden sound of makarina blaring out of the keychain woke me up. I looked around the room. There was nobody. I saw the teddy bear sitting on the side table as the song continued to progress. How in the world did it start off on its own? Was there some unknown presence that activated or set off the sound? I have never been more terrified in my life than I was during that moment. I remember leaping out of bed and scurrying to my mom and aunts who were talking in the other room. I told them what happened and they told me I either imagined it, or it was the late reaction of the button being pressed repeatedly at an earlier time. Either ways, I was left horrified.

I have always been faint hearted and my reactions have been a source of entertainment for guys. Most of them derive perverse pleasure in scaring me in diverse ways. A friend of mine takes thrill in jumping on me from some corner when I am walking in a dark corridor. Another friend once insisted on me hearing ghostly, true to life tales in a dark hotel room in Goa, and he pounced on me on the most appropriate (or in appropriate?) moment, when the wicked spirit made an appearance in his story. He enjoys telling friends about my terror filled cry that followed. I’ve been dared to watch horror movies while being locked in an empty house, I’ve been challenged to spend a night in an abandoned, seemingly haunted building. Recently, a few guy friends kept pelting my bedroom window with hardened snow balls, knowing very well how the suddennees of the impact, sound and the fear of the unknown would make me jump and tremble. My extreme reactions seem entertaining to most guys. Although my pounding heart and shaky body don’t seem very amusing to me.

I think all of us are forced to encounter our fears at some point. What inspired this post was the fright I deal with every time I step into the shower. The door of the shower cabin fits in and bangs shut on its own after a while, despite being securely locked into place in the beginning itself. I don’t know what explanation to offer, but its been happening since months. Its probably the vibration caused by the heating of the water, or some such thing. I don’t know. I’ve grown used to it and don’t get as terrified as I used to earlier, however it continues to make me jump each time it happens.

I only hope I manage to calm myself and put my fears to rest at some point.

Sunshine after the storm..

That’s exactly how it looks and feels like now. The previous post was written under a heavy depressive spell, while a dark cloud hung overhead. I still don’t feel very steady, but I think the storm is dying down. Hopefully, my stormy reactions will die down too.

In other news, I AM GOING TO INDIAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!. In just 2 weeks! 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 😀 For almost an entire month! Okay, I’m done with the jumping now..

Anyway, on a different vein, a classmate of mine saw me blogging and said this; ‘People who blog, either do it for readership, or ‘cos they’re really lonely people’. I don’t really agree. People blog for a variety of reasons. Considering my blog is password protected I definitely DO NOT do it for readership. I’ve always blogged on and off for about 5 years now simply cos I can’t really stay without writing. Earlier it was mainly to let off steam. And to talk about different issues that interest me. But then I wondered, am I really an escapist since I confine my thoughts and feelings to a page on the web? Do I not want to share them with people I talk to everyday? And I came up with a lot of answers that spoke otherwise. So I’m convinced! We blog for different reasons. I’m not going to get into them now, we all go by what matters to us.

However, at one point I decided to close the doors to the random surfers. It is cos of posts like the one below this. Why allow people to read your somber expressions and mess with their mental state? “This is my space” is too arrogant an explanation according to me. And so the lock was put. You can’t really enter my territory that easily. I decided to take up the job of an ‘entry clearance agent’ and grant visas only to a select few. Ha!

I’ve realised I’m blabbering crap. That’s my cue. Am outta here.. Gnite!