Silly Symbolisms !! - the resort of the weak ?

The instant I realized what was happening to me, I knew I had done something that was radically different to what I was. I knew life would never be the same after this realization. I knew things had gone a bit too far and yet I knew that what I was doing was going to make me happy. I knew that all these things that I was doing and following were not going to be the right way of doing things or the right parameters for judging my feelings … but still I also knew that there are times when logic takes a back seat and what might have been so difficult to do, you do in an instant without much of a fuss. I knew only the crazy, obsessive and paranoid did such things, but at the same time I also knew that it was the only way to retain my sanity in this ruin ! Ironical , huh !

I had never touched the talcum powder after my 5th standard in school (after which my mom stopped dressing me up for school). I have always scoffed at people who used to apply the powder on their faces, necks, napes, underarms, chests, and god knows where all ! I used to wonder why we needed to increase our complexion quotient by applying artificial stuff on our faces.

And now here was I applying the white powder on my face every morning. And what could be the reason – My mother, on my departure from my hometown Baroda, gave a Pond’s talcum powder pack for my use. I just exclaimed as to what made her think that I would use it and she just smiled. She said, “Keep it Anu. You might need it !” And boy, she was damn right. I needed it although for not the reasons that she must have even imagined.

Same case with the Pond’s cold cream – I hardly use cream. Oh how yucky it feels to apply that greasy substance on your face ! But now I apply the Pond’s cream everyday on my face because my father gave it to me again on my departure. He went out and bought a whole lot of provisions and assorted stuff while I was packing. The love with which he bought some stuff that are not even used by me, touched me and I silent kept all of those inside my bags. I didn’t have the heart to quarrel with him, the way I usually do. Same case with Colgate Herbal toothpaste. I used to have pitched battles with him when I lived with them. I don’t like the taste of herbal toothpastes and he loves them. I used to buy my own toothpaste while the whole household used the herbal paste bought by him. And now see ! what a change… I buy only that toothpaste. What more, I even fought with my roommates for having misplacedthe toothpaste given by my father. What a sick fellow I have become.


The whole point of these examples is – What happens to oneself when we miss people whom we love so dearly. I am away from my parents and my family and maybe these are the small ways in which I try to still maintain their everyday presence in my life. Right from waking up and saying my prayers to the time when I get back to sleep , each day in my life is peppered with some small gestures, actions, and idiosyncrasies aimed at remembering my dear ones.
I have stopped spitting on the roads as a mark of respect for the only woman I loved ‘coz she did not like it and cried hoarse trying to reform me from this uncivil habit. Have started eating bittergourd (karela in hindi) ‘coz my father loves ‘em and gave up on his son ever realizing the goodness of the vegetable. Started wearing red threads on my wrist since it was given by her ( keeping aside my finicky hatred to anything being tied or wrapped around my hands/arms) . Have started applying some perfume that my father gave although I never use perfumes ( neither does he). It was gifted to him by his elder sister and he gave it to me saying, “I won’t use it, but atleast you try using it.” Have started wearing more of black in my attire ‘coz she likes the colour and subconsciously I have started liking it too. Have read James Patterson, Daniele Steel, J K Rowling ( with lot of reluctance ) , just to transfer myself to her world. All this happened reluctantly but automatically. I knew I was doing something very uncharacteristic to me but the whole body, mind and soul wanted to desperately do all of these. What possesses me is difficult to describe. Is it mental fragility, is it foolishness, is it lunacy?


What more… I have safely preserved many things – like the envelope in which dad sent some application forms for me, the “bindiya – pack” that mom used while on a trip to Bangalore ( she forgot to take it back ), the bill of ipod nano that I bought for the love of my life from my first month’s salary, the sweater that my aunt knitted for me on my 15th birthday ( can u believe it, once I wore that tattered and way too small sweater to a disc ! freaked some ppl with my ‘kool’ fashion sense )
Sometimes I feel I am over doing things. But then its these very things and idiosyncrasies that present me with a reason to live and endure the miseries and disappointments. The fact that the love for them is still alive and kicking in my heart is a reassurance that I am still good inside ( so what if its manifested in some illogical and strange mannerisms ?)

The basic fear that I had was that I might end up losing my love and perspective after starting to work in a big company and living the ‘high life’. But it’s these small things that kept me afloat and helped me retain my inner respect for myself. If it sounds illogical and pretty childish or immature to many, then let it. I care two hoots ! As long as I know that I will do anything ( and I mean anything !) for somebody whom I love and care about, then there is nothing for me to be not expressive about.

All I am doing is, trying to express my love for my dear ones. It becomes “ silly symbolisms” when I do not have anyone to express all this to. And that my dear readers – IS THE BOTTOMLINE – below this lunacy ! God Bless !