On memoirs and memories

Was going through old txt and doc files and found a half written post from June 12th. Completing it.

Hmm. I had always believed – at least as far back as I can remember thinking about the issue of past life – that I was either a witch or a gypsy or a nomad of sort…someone who moved from place to place, saw many different faces she called friends, and many different places she called home. The tarot reader told me that most probably I was an herbalist, a healer in my past life. And I fell for someone who comes to me to be healed, he falls for me too, but he goes away and I die a lonely and bitter death. (I had told her I could take whatever she'd tell me!). Maybe I thought I was a gypsy etc because from the time I can remember – and even the vague snatches that form your toddler-memories – I have been shifting cities, schools, houses, addresses, roll numbers… I did that living with my parents till 20 and after that… I have been changing homes. :) This 9-month-old blog of mine is testimonial to at least three distress-calls due to sudden-home-shifting. I think it’s “written” in my “destiny” that I am supposed to keep moving. And never settle down or settle for anything… or anyone? Hmm.

That would be in direct conflict with the ideas I have (had?) grown up with. From childhood I have/had grown up romanticizing the perfect scenario: a place where you live with your family is called home, those who don’t mind the way you look in the morning – and not because they are drunk or on an acid trip or will never bother seeing you again – are family, and you share happy times and good times with family and bloody well stand by when in trouble. My parents had a love marriage. Which is still on. And they are SO different that I am scared to even get into the reasons WHY they are together. (Before some of you jump on me saying, “Hey you are talking about your parents!” bla bla bla…) I love my parents. Dearly. Almost as if they are my only hope in humanity….humanity that has not/won’t give up on me. And they are too! But. Will I marry someone as domineering like Papa? Nope. Will I marry someone who is the epitome of pessimism and from the books I read to the movies I watch, she doesn’t match anything? Nope. And yet, they are together.

You and I and many others might question or downright scoff at how and why our parents are together – have heard umpteen comments on “I don’t want to have a marriage like theirs” – but are we even capable of that? Despite the number of times I have heard friends and people in general site their parents’ failed marriage or someone else’s for NOT wanting to get married, am yet to meet anyone who says, “So what? I will ensure mine does not turn out like that.” I have not said it either: Because somewhere, we all know that it takes HELL of a lot to make a marriage or a relationship work*. And quite unlike our parents who (mostly) never had preconditions, or one partner willingly under-stepped, we are pretty clear that if the other doesn’t put in his/her share, we’re out of it. Or perhaps not even in it.
(*Not all marriages and relationships collapse because of adjustment issues. Some such associations should NOT have happened at all.)

And yet, today or now, when we all know that the other too is (usually) measuring things, how do we let our guard down? How do we get ready to give all without thinking of the consequences – to us – later? Of course it doesn’t sound like ‘love’ because love is giving unconditionally, etc. But dude, I am not talking love. Love and marriage and being with someone are completely separate things. Or so I have learnt (and they never tell you that in a fairy tale).

The first books my Dad got me were Thumbelina, Tom Thumb, Snow White- Red Rose and some Russian book of fairy tales where all the princes where called Ivan. This was the book where I learnt the word ‘scythe’. And both Tom Thumb and Thumbelina taught me the same lesson: if you are small for your size, you better be bloody remarkable and stand out. Funny, even as a kid, I did not like the prince-with-wings in Thumbelina; he was such a… (hmm?!) Not my type, let’s put it that way. I would rather she have fallen for the swallow; he had character. He came back. As for Snow White and the other Snow White-Red Rose and Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella…dude, they were all ‘white’. So it was pretty obvious that men liked women who were fair-skinned. Check out Amar Chitra Katha as well: all the goddess figures and ‘good’ women are fair while all the demons and witches and crones are ‘dark’. You have Kali who is dark and well, she IS dark. Funny, funny, funny.

Funnier still was the way I tried to ‘get’ fair – I was 12-years-old and had a Punjabi boyfriend, my first boyfriend, and Punjabi men can deny it till doom’s day, but show ‘em a chitti kudi and they’d be ready to go to jail for her – so I tried ‘getting’ fair by applying Fair & Lovely (guaranteed lighter skin in four weeks, the loveliness is your discretion) and got bloody, big pimples instead. My skin reacted and as I could use no fairness cream, I have remained dark since. Grin. Ai-yum-luvving-yit.

PS: What no one realizes is that all fair women are opportunists: They leave their families and run away with the man who shows them the brightest future ahead. Check: It’s always fucking ‘Prince’ Charming; she’d never fall for the chief-of-staff.

PS 1: Erm, the “fair women” does not include fair-skinned women who are dark at heart, okay? (Realised that some of my closest female friends are fair. FUCKING fair. Haha. They'd have my booblets for calling them opportunist. Aaaaaaahahaha)

PS 2: Am removing Princess Loona from here and shifting her completely to Clit Chatting: will keep posting update-excerpts here. As feedback today said: “Your blog is getting confusing!”