C.A.R.O.L.I.N.E

BAND AID

Band aids are not meant to be a healer. They simply cover up your wound. Aids never do what really needs to be done, they just kind of help. They’re magical when you’re little because you think they heal you. They “stop” the hurt. Not really though; they just distract you. You don’t know any better because you’re young, confused, and fall to the illusion. They’re fun and pretty and you can pick ones that you really like. When you’re older, you usually resort to flesh colored band aids. While they’re not exactly invisible or perfectly camouflaged, they’re not as obvious and people don’t always know you’re really hurt. It’s kind of like the same thing when you get out of a relationship. Underneath you’re still hurt. But you go out and find a fun, pretty person to spend time with, the band aid. They distract you. The reason why you’re hurting is still there. This person can occupy your time a lot, but every few days you pull back the band aid because you’re still hurt and contact the one you still love. You use and abuse that band aid to cover up whats wrong. You can use all the ointment- movies, music, parties, outings- and band aids-dates, new “lovers”- over the wound, but the body doesn’t heal from the outside in. You can choose from all types of rebounds and band aids. The cheap ones only give you one-night, temporary satisfaction. The waterproof ones may let you cry to them and try to block out the sting of your pain. There are even some really quality band aids that have a lot going for them, but underneath, you’re still not whole. No band aid can ever compare or have all the qualities to the person before. Some people choose to keep that band aid on for a really long time, but when they take it off there will be a yucky scar because they neglected the wound. They will have wished they took off the band aid and given it attention and care. I would hate to be a band aid.

Adult World

Doing things you don’t like

Saying things you didn’t mean it

Being sarcastic, mean and pretending

Hiding your real thoughts and feelings

Acting as someone else

Constantly thinking and making choices

Regret about stuff

Be complicated, frustrated and unhappy. Lost.

Restrict for Good

Good years back, I used to be impulsive, illogical, ugly *as per some people’s definition* and short tempered. I am such, even today; however the intensity of all the above mentioned traits has decreased. I do not forgive people easily; rather I choose to ignore them as if they never existed in my life. It is difficult for me to forgive, especially when someone has put a much calculated effort to hit me where it hurts the most. I have finally learnt to unfriend and concentrate on better things in life. 

The urge to revenge though hadn’t allowed me to respect the importance of what all I had, till I realized revenge is eating me inside. It isn’t in my hands to teach someone a lesson for being an arse. If that is how they choose to be, who am I to question their sense of humour? College taught me to value pity things like, clothes, brands, labels, color and question other’s value system! It took me good half a dozen years to unlearn it all start afresh and reach a stage where I am peaceful in my own little space. It is they, who end up reading my blog now, while I have moved on though the bitter experiences do linger somewhere in my memory once in a blue moon. They are less painful now. 

I never knew the importance of physical appearance and how I am perceived till I entered college particularly in HRM. Ignorance was certainly blissful till I was made familiar about what beauty is and how I do not possess any. The inferiority complex of those I interacted with started killing my own confidence. This is the same old story that I keep revisiting for past cannot be change, but can surely be ignored. Truth be told, I have forgiven everyone who ever may have hurt me some way or the other. But, one thing I could not forgive is how I have started judging people based on certain attributes, or maybe I have become way too selective. 

I haven’t owned a car in my life, yet. The ones who judge, may judge based on this. I do not own a property or way too much of gold. I like wearing diamonds, live a decent life and maintain a rather spoiled lazy lifestyle. I have learned to make my own choices; I have learned to cherish little things and above all my freedom. The freedom to write whatever I want, unfortunately, that’s been plagued too. For past few weeks, I have become calculative of what to post on the blog. What not, why not and when not. Earlier I was way too judgmental about few bloggers, I was sarcastic to some and I picked fights or posted rude blog posts. Gradually I realized, I have become one of those I hated. I had to work on it and even though now I restrict myself a little, I restrict for good. If I do not have anything good to tell someone, I can always choose to shut my mouth.

I have crossed the crossroads!

I have been dictated, dictated by random perplexities that kept me occupied for most part of my life though I knew what I wanted, always. It’s beyond my understanding on how after the realization of why I am born, I still lived in denial. One may not accept however often denial is the best option. You are hurt, you deny, you do not have courage to put your best foot forward, you deny, you deny, you are living a lie, you deny. And then, one day, you refuse to live in denial, that my friend is where I have finally reached now, or not? 

I hesitate. I hesitate to be upfront these days. It is better to keep quiet than being honest, if honesty is that hurtful to someone I surely need to respect their happiness than what my opinion about the subject is. How difficult is it to brush someone’s sad state of affairs? It isn’t. It is their life, none of my concern; it is their decisions, none that may affect my life. However, this doesn’t stand true for the other person. Most like to hurt you when you do not wish so or expect so. Many strangers, friends and loved ones have brutally hurt when I already was handicapped enough to lift my spirits. They still do, but I have closed those doors and their voice doesn’t reach my heart anymore. 

Once the doors are shut, it’s better to move on. It’s best to not cross the paths which tell tales of humility, strength is best accompanied by a shattered heart for it knows not to step on the burning coals once again. Now when I look back, I know, I have crossed the crossroads of chaos, hurt and burnt. Now, the vision is clear. The denial is past me. This is the phase of acceptance; acceptance, of a new me, acceptance of who I was, who I am and who I had forgotten all these years. 

It’s this peace that I have been hunting. It was within, now I know so. Friends, foes, family, they all are where they were. I have stopped prioritizing who is more significant than the other for, from here on it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter if you are termed selfish. At the end of the day, you live for yourself, everything else if secondary. Love, hate, ignorance, it all has to take backseat, it has taken a backseat. 

Focus. It took me way too long to focus my energies in the right direction. Now when I have, nothing else matters.

Spot the Gold Digger

Tired of lifting shopping bags of the girl you have been meeting to impress? Well, if you are spending more time at the sales, shoe shops than lingerie stores, then you have started on a wrong note already. Women like to shop, not all though. Women like to spend their money too, not all though. The women, who eventually rob you and move on are the ones who were not interested in you at the first place, it is exactly how men who weren’t looking for commitment move on after some good sex. One may say, shopping is to women what sex is to men, however it isn’t true! Women are calculated opportunists when it comes to dealing with people they don’t like, irrespective of the gender, thus it’s beyond shopping!

A gold digger can be spotted easily. She accessorize well, would mostly have all colors in her wardrobe, may over do her makeup, carry flashy bags and doesn’t come across as a smarter person in a crowd. A richer version of gold digger can be spotted with a much older with a sedan *conditions applied*. A pretentious woman with overload of narrow minded cultural notions, who would choose to follow the easier route, and stand with the crowd. She would speak highly of her family, break all the rules, which she otherwise would bitch about, in private; hide her romantic liaisons while she is busy emptying his bank balance. Most of the gold diggers would fit this definition, for all they think about is their own welfares, how they can benefit and some occasional physical amusement, however so controlled that the man never gets enough of it and has to come back to her with a fuller wallet. 

The image of gold digger I defined here is based on my own experiences, the women I observed how they spoke about the men behind their back, how they behaved with me and never spent the cash for our little girly treats, how they never cared to speak for themselves and always looked for help. The trap starts with such women acting too innocent, seeking help, getting their administrative tasks done and pleading for sympathy in a much indirect way. Women, who make men wonder, what does she really want? Such women may not take the first step in the relationship, rarely find their wallet in the bag on time, play too many blame games and wouldn’t marry the one they date (mostly). 

In today’s corporate world, where women have to walk their way up faster wearing stilettos, am not surprised to observe how gold digger definition could easily be applied to corporate women too. The women who don’t know one bit about their work, get it all done by that twenty five year old virgin at work, they in return may pay him in cash or kind. 

What intrigues me though is, why do Gold Diggers behave the way they behave? Is it the low self-esteem that they don’t see themselves as worthy of earning their own trophies? Or, is it the superiority complex that they put to use way too often and demand for a queen like treatment? The reason could be anything, it could be psychological, temperamental, and behavioural or someone just being mean. Once the man has been drained enough, once they get bored, they drop him like hot potato and move on. I have known a few who dropped men like that and the men who paid their bills for so long, actually seemed to be in love. The fact that they make men long for them, dominate them in their own feminine way is an art however it is so expensive to afford that men once gone the gold digger way, label all women as shopaholics and develop a foul taste. 

Spot the Gold Digger

Tired of lifting shopping bags of the girl you have been meeting to impress? Well, if you are spending more time at the sales, shoe shops than lingerie stores, then you have started on a wrong note already. Women like to shop, not all though. Women like to spend their money too, not all though. The women, who eventually rob you and move on are the ones who were not interested in you at the first place, it is exactly how men who weren’t looking for commitment move on after some good sex. One may say, shopping is to women what sex is to men, however it isn’t true! Women are calculated opportunists when it comes to dealing with people they don’t like, irrespective of the gender, thus it’s beyond shopping!

A gold digger can be spotted easily. She accessorize well, would mostly have all colors in her wardrobe, may over do her makeup, carry flashy bags and doesn’t come across as a smarter person in a crowd. A richer version of gold digger can be spotted with a much older with a sedan *conditions applied*. A pretentious woman with overload of narrow minded cultural notions, who would choose to follow the easier route, and stand with the crowd. She would speak highly of her family, break all the rules, which she otherwise would bitch about, in private; hide her romantic liaisons while she is busy emptying his bank balance. Most of the gold diggers would fit this definition, for all they think about is their own welfares, how they can benefit and some occasional physical amusement, however so controlled that the man never gets enough of it and has to come back to her with a fuller wallet. 

The image of gold digger I defined here is based on my own experiences, the women I observed how they spoke about the men behind their back, how they behaved with me and never spent the cash for our little girly treats, how they never cared to speak for themselves and always looked for help. The trap starts with such women acting too innocent, seeking help, getting their administrative tasks done and pleading for sympathy in a much indirect way. Women, who make men wonder, what does she really want? Such women may not take the first step in the relationship, rarely find their wallet in the bag on time, play too many blame games and wouldn’t marry the one they date (mostly). 

In today’s corporate world, where women have to walk their way up faster wearing stilettos, am not surprised to observe how gold digger definition could easily be applied to corporate women too. The women who don’t know one bit about their work, get it all done by that twenty five year old virgin at work, they in return may pay him in cash or kind. 

What intrigues me though is, why do Gold Diggers behave the way they behave? Is it the low self-esteem that they don’t see themselves as worthy of earning their own trophies? Or, is it the superiority complex that they put to use way too often and demand for a queen like treatment? The reason could be anything, it could be psychological, temperamental, and behavioural or someone just being mean. Once the man has been drained enough, once they get bored, they drop him like hot potato and move on. I have known a few who dropped men like that and the men who paid their bills for so long, actually seemed to be in love. The fact that they make men long for them, dominate them in their own feminine way is an art however it is so expensive to afford that men once gone the gold digger way, label all women as shopaholics and develop a foul taste. 

one night, you are lying down your bed wishing you weren’t there.  You are hearing echoes of voices that bring you back to the past and you wish not to hear the voices again.  You opened your window for a gasp of fresh air, but instead you smell scents of the journey you wish you didn’t take.  You walk down the streets hoping to see the way to where the light is, but all you see are shadows of the face and form of the one you once loved. Or rather, the one who once loved you.

        Each little fragment of what used to be bears so much to be forgotten.  Every little thing reminds you of one thing; a special song, an exquisite delight, a red rose… Every single thing becomes special because every single thing was special with that special someone you have lost.

        They say moving on is a simple thing… You may say it is indeed simple, but what it leaves behind is not.  When you lost someone, you tend to keep the illusion that he has not gone.  So the voices you hear, the scents you smell and the shadows you see are illusions of your broken dreams – dreams of being warmed by his presence despite the miles that separate you.  You make wonderful films and novels in your head.  You don’t feel contended, so you keep on replaying and rereading them.

        Picking up the pieces is the worst part of it… once the relationship ends, the period of mourning begins.  You try to get used to no longer being together but all it gives you is the feeling of guilt that you may have made a mistake.  It is excruciating.  You are taken hostage by your own emotion.

        So what do you do?

        You wish to hate the one you love to cover up all the pain.  You look for flaws and you throw away all the good parts.  You ignore the good things.  You squeeze your mind just to remember all the mistakes he has done but then you’ll end up hating yourself for still loving him.

You blame yourself.

        Now, you ask your friends to come over.  You go out in the clubs, you meet new people, and you date them.  You drown yourself with alcohol so you can divert your thoughts, but then you’ll end up hating yourself for still having the memories of him.

        You blame yourself.  You have become both a victim of a broken relationship and a victim of blame.  And again, you blame yourself.  You become a victim of the enemy called love.  And then we ask, is it love we seek, or is it merely pain?

        You miss him.  You miss the feeling of being with him.  Perhaps, you miss being intimate with him.  You miss the things you do together, and you miss yourself when you were once with him.

        The problem is, you have become so identified with the role of being with him; you are no longer sure of whom you really are outside of that role.  When you refuse to let go of that role, you hinder the act of moving on.  The fact is, you cannot move on while continuing to cling to the past.

        So again, what do you do?

        Should you avoid seeing him?  Should you get everything out so that you would lose everything you’re holding inside?  Should you cry?  Should you let go of the memories and put away everything that reminds you of him?

        Avoiding him doesn’t mean erasing him completely in your life.  If you want him as friend, you may.  But at one point in time, you will realize that avoiding him is the easiest possible way of forgetting.  You are not forgetting the person himself, you are forgetting the pain.   Cry it all out to release the hurting.  It won’t stop the ache immediately, but it will ease somehow.  Do not put away all things that remind you of him but rather, let go of the things that remind you of the relationship.  It is hard.  You will definitely have to adjust, first to being rejected and second to life without somebody you still love.

        But it is your life.  It is now, and you are not your past.  You can choose the way you want to live. You can drown in self pity or you can choose life.  Your life has its own effortless course, and you can embrace its way or struggle endlessly with the miserable book you write.  Letting go is a journey that never ends.  It only begins… over and over again. 

        You cannot live life blaming yourself forever.  Those who stay in the parameters of rejection of letting go are those who live in the shadows to lick their wounds.  And the wounds will not get healed.  It can only get worse.  Do not dwell on what ifs.  Stop asking, “Did I give too much?” “or too little”.  Stop saying “I should have” or “I could have”.  You are just knocking yourself down.  The fact of the matter is, it doesn’t matter anymore.  That chapter is over, turn the page now.

        Starting life over again is the key to a new you.  Somehow, you will see the beauty of starting over.  At one point, hopefully soon, you will find your heart again.  And it is whole.  You should see that beyond the limits of your present sight is something higher than what is usually given.  Do not look down on you.  Look ahead, look farther.  Lift your eyes from their present point of focus and you will realize that what you are looking for is always a glimpse of something that was only out of sight.