I don’t want those dark and lonely corners curling up in the living room when I am home from work…that occasional lizard gleefully licking up monsoon bugs…I don’t want them there.
I want the old fat lady in a tambola-print saree to come and clean up the darkness, and the loneliness, and the helplessness everyday…with efficient fingers…cleaning every detail…with the strong detergent.
I want the cook to prepare a fine Bengali meal…complete with dal, some big green lemons for the racial flavor, plain rice, and spicy river fish.
I want to write this book…I don’t quite know on what…maybe on how to kill hypochondria…and how to dream right.
I want the yellow lights in the room to work…neon lights make me sick.
I want to stop making transactions and concentrate on relationships…
I want superannuation!
I so want life to work for me!
Wonder what that man across that dusty half-brick pavement would say!
Something like ‘I am tired of thinking about food everyday…where should I get my food from? The posh idly place? Where they throw the left-over stuff after ten in the morning?
Or should I wait outside the gate of that house that has that bright red car with shiny silver wheels? I so want life to work for me!’
I want the old fat lady in a tambola-print saree to come and clean up the darkness, and the loneliness, and the helplessness everyday…with efficient fingers…cleaning every detail…with the strong detergent.
I want the cook to prepare a fine Bengali meal…complete with dal, some big green lemons for the racial flavor, plain rice, and spicy river fish.
I want to write this book…I don’t quite know on what…maybe on how to kill hypochondria…and how to dream right.
I want the yellow lights in the room to work…neon lights make me sick.
I want to stop making transactions and concentrate on relationships…
I want superannuation!
I so want life to work for me!
Wonder what that man across that dusty half-brick pavement would say!
Something like ‘I am tired of thinking about food everyday…where should I get my food from? The posh idly place? Where they throw the left-over stuff after ten in the morning?
Or should I wait outside the gate of that house that has that bright red car with shiny silver wheels? I so want life to work for me!’
6 comments:
:). yes who doesn't want life to work? And each with thier own set of perspectives on how they want their life- well done, rare, very rare, medium rare. maybe that guy across the pavement, told u to shut up?
I think we should just blame curling corners and insect eating lizards on recession? Bizarre always makes one feel better.
Feel better Deb, think of a juicy steak with chilled Heineken with the sun setting right in front of your eyes..u of course are perched on your deck chair and are awaiting the lobsters. u might add a book to the scene, and your husband if u really think they make a difference :D
thanks for making me think of that perfect pic...I don't know whom to blame for this general depression...feeling so low
Reminded me of your earlier posts 'Note to my Husband' and 'The Woman I could never be'. You are becoming very demanding :) :)
must i read this when i am going through the lowest phase ever. a good read as always.. but yeah gloomy. is it something about this age debanjana? everything seems so bleak for me.
vut cheer up girl.. and get on thta book maybe. :)
something about being on the brink of 30...I am sure
btw, your new template looks cool. and I hope your depression vanishes in a jiffy (don't mind my earlier comment).
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