Memories, like thoughts, are abrasive, bizarre, bohemian, whimsical, brave, sad, manipulative, rogue, rude, ridiculously random and absurdly unpredictable. They pop up in your head when you are least expecting them, they never leave you, no matter how much you want to get rid of them they are always there, they itch, and itch and itch, till you scratch……. And then they leave scars, just like chickenpox.
If you get chicken pox at a young age, it is usually mild and goes away without you even noticing it, but the severity increases with age. The red spots appear everywhere, outside and inside your body…….. it is painful, bad and unsightly. I had chicken pox in June, 2004. (I don’t know why I am good with dates) I had sores everywhere on my body, inside my mouth, my lungs, my gut……… I couldn’t eat, sleep or breath, the ITCH………was more than ITCHY….. and the antihistamines I took to soothe it made me high, so it was funny, I was so fucking high, I couldn’t even cry, I had one favorite spot I used to scratch, that is the only scar that it left. I had to cut my perfect talons to stop scratching. Now I have lifelong immunity against the disease.
Isn’t it like love? Love is a sickness actually, everyone who gets it, sooner or later ends up in bed…….. If you do it at the right age, you don’t even notice, it just comes and stays, or leaves without nasty scars, if some are left, they sort of disappear with time. The defense system of body gets a bit weak with age….. If the bug of commitment bites you at the ripe old age of 36………. Sigh!!!!!
I was bitten, badly, madly, severely……… it made me deliriously happy and happily delirious. One fine morning, same date, last year, I woke up and it was over…… I scrubbed off the beautiful fresh color of henna from my hands and broke my green glass bangles……..
I had fever and an urge to scratch that scar today, and I scratched and scratched it till my heart bled. Soaked in self pity, I took good care of myself, had a double dose of Telfast for flu, ate carbs, gulped regular coke, listened to Hindi version of “Aa Ante Amlapuram” for nth times (I know all the”wahyaat” dance moves of that silly, stupendous song) ……… High on antihistamines, anxiety, nicotine and grief…….….. I wanted to cry…….but couldn’t…… tears are precious…. i don’t want to waste them anymore.
I decided to take solace in retail therapy and dessert, and went out after coming back from work. There was sale at Cheneyre and my favorite Dupatta was on 30% off, I hunted for it ruthlessly but couldn’t find it, and while coming out from the fifth outlet, pissed and empty handed, I thought, what was the whole point ? did i still want to cover my head with that, while signing the papers?? ……..No, Never…..…….. EVER!!!!
I think I have got lifelong immunity………………
What if there is a stronger/mutant strain of the bug?
Henna is a semi permanent tattoo and bangles are just fancy handcuffs.
The bread and butter pudding that i made to treat myself was an absolute delight.
20th August, 2013.