Misconstrued Popularity Feb 18, 2008

POPULARITY : A social status or a quality of being well liked - or so the idea goes.

Ok so what has popularity got to do with me? Nothing actually. And Thank God!

I am allergic to being in any proximity with that word especially if it is directed to me in any form or shape. I get immediate hives. I cannot remember if I have mused and rambled about this particular topic previously but I was recently thinking of the many facets of this word and how it has in the past affected me one way or the other due to the misguided presumptions that I was somehow even remotely in the league of the popular.

Back when I was in school, somehow the clique of giggly girls that I associated myself with 'The Gang' happened to have been popular in their own areas - smart top scorers, athletes, musically inclined and the ones who somehow the teachers would always inevitably choose to be in the limelight.

Now the tragic comedy of me presence in this 'The Gang' was that I was none of the forementioned pluses. I was smart yes but not top scorer, I played a good game of badminton and handball but was never the first selection usually in the reserves, I sang and danced well but I did that out of inborn rhythm and interest not by formal education.

Over the years as they the rest of 'The Gang' went on to get married, study abroad, climb corporate ladders - well you know the story of my life and it's ironical misadventures. We aren't even in each others social circles anymore - I just don't fit in where they are.

Not that there's anything seriously wrong with who I am or how I turned out to be, but I guess, when my life just turned out very differently from theirs. There's the social fluttery hi hi kiss kiss when we meet, some 'concerned' conversations as to my current affairs, some solidarity in wanting to kick Jacob's ass high heaven for turning out to be a jerk not my hero ... and then life goes on in its typical fashion.

Some people assumed I was in 'The Gang' because I too wanted to be popular - if being the daughter of one of the most popular teachers in primary school wasn't a tragic malady in itself, apparently my association with these high flyers was seen as an attempt to elevate myself to their realms.

I at times look back at those growing years and now am able to see how very different I was to them. Almost like a freak of nature cast amongst the blooms and diamonds. In fact all through primary till I completed secondary school, whilst their popularity reigned high in our small town, I think I was probably seen as the baggage or the charity inclusion. But I did serve my purpose to an end being there.

When the boys were interested in them I was the obvious post service. I could also be the court jester and clown who broke the ice because I wasn’t being affected in anyway looking daft in front of the boys and once that was done would go be the wall flower in the back. In fact it became the norm. I think the first time I ever had any male attention was when I was in lower 6 when a boy 3 years my junior seemed to be hovering about wherever I was. It was kinda cute and odd at the same time – me??? What was wrong with this boy was all I could think as my friends teased me endlessly about having a fan.

I went on to college before I started working full time, for the first 6 months, I was silent in my corner taking copious notes while the lecturer droned on. I was the only Indian in the class. The rest were Chinese whose comprehension was rather limited. After the first of 3 exams and my results were the highest next term I was most sough after for my copious notes rather than my company. I just let them have my notes, dunno if it helped them any.

Moving on in the social circles, I was like the freak when I had two younger siblings that seemed to be like candles that attracted moths and other creatures by the droves. I was still the odd one. I didn’t party hard, I didn’t drink, I didn’t drive so making me designate driver was an obvious waste … and I used to be intrigued by the oddity of it all – how could we even be siblings when I was such a unpopular next to the both of them. But it’s kinda cool and kinda sad when you have happening siblings – people never remember who you are but they always associate you to so and so. So again, an identity born, out of my association with others. It’s no wonder I just shrank further into obscurity of my own thoughts, my attempts at writing – at least here I held some force. I could take anyone on a journey with my words.

It is really only lately I think since Jacob’s departure from my life that I made a more concerted effort to come out of my shell. I mean all along if anyone took the time to get to know me, they’d have realized I am quite a bit of fun in that I am well read, I think and I am good to word spar with … plus I do have a heart when it comes to people I care for. But with Jacob gone, I have made small steps and changes to myself – some born out of necessity, some out of circumstance, I smile again despite my troubles.

And I speak my mind. To me if I have something worth saying, I said it with conviction because this is how I feel about it. I don’t expect anyone to agree with me but I believe this and stand by it so there I say it such. But now I seem to suddenly be tagged by others (I am not sure why they think this) that I am popular.

And I learnt that misplaced belief that someone is popular can lead to a number of painful instances. Some people feel that there is an urgent need for them to raise the war stance for everything that I say. Others feel that by emulating how I am with others in my interactions and care and concern will equally propel them into the popularity circle. Then there’s also having my ‘identity’ stolen from right under my nose. And suddenly I sit back and think ‘God what is this all about??’

I mean I am the way I am from my experiences and this is me sincerely. If I care I care, if I don’t I don’t … it’s as simple as that. If I speak it’s because I feel I have something to say. If I don’t it may mean a number of things why I’ve chosen silence over saying anything.

My laughter and easy going nature inspite of the worry wart I can be, seems to draw people towards me. I don’t go out anywhere with the intention to attract attention or intentionally upstaged anyone. But sometimes it happens. Unwittingly I might find myself suddenly the center of a group’s attention and affection. When this happens now, I react with internalized shock … I can almost imagine what those who were aspiring to that ‘popularity’ or were of the opinion it was theirs for the having are going to be doing. And I start to worry.

Too many times I have heard people use the word ‘ani how popular you are’ only to then immediately put into action some diabolic plan to ‘topple’ me – whilst here I am screaming take it I don’t want it … I just want to be my quiet wallflower lost in my own little challenges.

And maybe I am more aware and more perceptive of the people around me now that I can easily identify the problem the moment it kicks into action. If I was some celebrity or someone important I can imagine people reacting aversely to me but dang it, I’m the girl next door who has had her teeth kicked in so many times it must be dentures in my mouth, I use a coat hanger to keep the smile in place, each day I wake up I remind myself it’s a new day – make the best of it.

I don’t want to be popular … maybe notoriously famous someday from how my incoherent ramblings come together and entertain my phantom readers (I don’t really believe I have any readers to begin with) but not popular.

Why??? Well popularity is like so yesterday. Today everyone knows you, tomorrow like who??? Nope I would rather be famous, and seen as notoriously blunt, honest and incorrigible in the way I think and express myself … an original, a one of a kind type person who once walked this earth … but my beginnings are humble, and so too will be my ending on this earth … I will leave unnoticed, and where then does my popularity matter? (or incidentally the imaginary popularity in the minds of those who want to be so badly!) – no where it matters not.

.ani is going to remain the way she is, you can love or hate, I am cool but please don’t ever use that word popular on me … I’m allergic to it

Despair ... Feb 13, 2008

poised on crumbling ledge
pain embodied
at crossroads
yet too far out on the edge
stained, once healthy cheeks
now sunk sullen and bleak
futile search through swollen eyes
half blinded from tears cried
alone, afraid, anxious
disconsolate, despondent, desolate
forward or to retreat, reconsider
questions and more questions
precariously perched looking down
despair tips the scales
plunging silently
head first into oblivion
thud shatters
an otherwise noiseless end

Have You Thought About Dying? Feb 13, 2008

Seriously have you? I have at many points in life. The very subject matter is not something one talks about perhaps over a cup of coffee on a lazy day but it's the kind of thought that will suddenly pop into your consciousness when you least expect it. And then it stays some and gnaws at you like as if it were about to take immediate effect and the next moment you are going to be laying there flat, physically dead but your conscious mind very much alive watching the drama that unfolds. Or something to that effect ...

I am strange. No doubt. Most girls dreamnt of prince charming and wedding bells joyfully ringing perhaps in some grand setting full of aplomb and orchestrated gaiety. I on the other hand, had much more morbid thoughts and dreams.

I would lie in bed as a youngster before sleep overcame me, and thinking how it might be to be a famous rock star, or actress or some celebrity. I'd also find myself thinking of crossing societal boundaries, and riding a super bike amongst a group of questionable friends and causing a stir amongst the traditionalists - what is that girl doing if you can even call her a girl to begin with. Or perhaps even sailing on a ship, part of a crew that did good samaritan type work and enjoyed it.

I dreamt of bunjee jumping (now thats out with my back problems) ... white water rafting for fun, diving and immersing myself in the deep blue sea ... there might have been moments of peril, of adventure, and sometimes almost involuntarily there would be the essence of death.

And I have thought about dying as a form of escapism from present troubles (whenever that present might have been) and the varying scenarios of how I might meet my end ... and somehow I think my end will come rather silently and alone. Somehow I cannot see myself having to meet my Creator surrounded by a huge entourage of friends and family.

Somehow, alone is how I see myself leaving this world. An not even missed in any essence of the word. Not like I want to be missed, but it be nice wouldn't it?

Remember Tom Hanks in Philadelphia? Remember the last scene at his wake. That be a really nice way to go wouldn't it? And people all happy even in their grief of loss? Happy smiling mingling reminiscing of times now executed and immortalised.

I think about dying more than I should perhaps. Even now in my present. And I barter with God. Not yet God not just yet. I have to be here hale and healthy or at least with capacity to work and earn and take care of my girls. I'm not all that good hence please don't take me whilst I am young.

Yes Yes certified loony I am. But I find in thinking about death and how it sneaks itself into our presence without invitation helps desensitize me from the fear of it. Many people fear dying. I don't fear it only I am not ready as yet to give up my space on earth. I have too many things to look after and put into place and ensure especially for Ashna and Kasha that by the time mommy has to leave this mortal body, they are grown young women who are confident and well prepared to face the world on their own with their feet firmly planted.

So my barter is 60. My logic? Ashna would be 31 and Kasha 29, they've have finished with basic degrees, likely with some sort of career they are passionate about and perhaps even on the verge of starting their own little family units. I wouldn't really be too much use by then to them. And I'd hate to be a burden in any form to my girls. So 60 be alright. I would be grateful if God blessed me with good health to live a fulfilling remaining days.

Perhaps I might have the time and the moolah to finally travel the world a little and see with my own 2 eyes all that my mind has traveled through pages of printed word and googled websites.

Perhaps I might finally find the time to sit in quiet contemplation and put my book together - the one I have burning inside me wanting to be written, demanding to be told and shared.

Perhaps I might find love in my autumn years with one who is like minded and like experienced. One who together I might share my thoughts with, speak without fear of chastising or ridicule ... but this is the least of my perhaps ...

More importantly perhaps I will have the time to take time for me. Live a little for me. Find out who I have evolved into with the passing years.

I would like to die in my sleep with some dignity. That is my only vanity request to God. I don't want to be sick and burdensome on others especially not the girls. I don't want to be forgetful and incoherent. I want to spend each day enjoying every moment that when I breathe my last breath in my sleep, it should be one with no regrets just content that I have lived this life to the best of abilities inspite of the challenges thrown at me at different stages.

So yes indeed I think about dying. Especially in a time when today you might have spoken to someone, tomorrow they are no longer. You are not able to express to them what they meant. How the might have hurt you with their callous actions or words. Maybe they may have even been someone you had strong feelings for but time robbed you of the opportunity of sharing that with them.

People seem to be dying all of sudden, that if one were to not think about it one must be totally stone cold, perhaps already dead. I think about dying because I feel like I must make everything right before I go. I don't want loose ends and unfinished business for my survivors to complete.

Have you thought about dying? Mayhap too morbid a thought for you. For me it's just another stage of our existence or in this instance exit from the world of the living. It's inevitable, and it awaits all of us no matter what we do to avoid it. Hence like change, I embrace the fact that I am a mere mortal and my days are numbered.

God, just don't call my number just yet ... no until I've seen my responsibilities and obligations through ... and in passing into the other side, may it be peaceful and dignified.

.... I am an odd one I admit.

How Does One Prepare For The Inevitable Feb 10, 2008

Such morbid topic from me I know but the mind is in a thinking mode ...

How does one prepare for the inevitable death of a marriage?
or the inevitable death of a friendship?
or the inevitable death of a relationship?
or the inevitable death of a loved one (family,spouse, child, friend)
or the inevitable death of a career?

Having experienced most if not all at some point in my life and as I prepare mentally for the inevitables that my mind has already identified, I find that at times I am lost how to move forward.

I have played rock solid strong no matter what the adversity or trial in these 36 years ... and the last 6 years have been the most tribulation filled, and none ever seem to fizzle out into some acceptable end. Instead all seem to fuss and fizzle intermittently giving me more pain and stress than I care for.

I still hear the words of the astrologer as he sat reading what numerous others have already said to me and I smiled silently inwards thinking my life so clearly is laid only with thickets and thorns, that the end of my journey also is not one for honey or pots of gold or accolades or appreciation, but one that ends alone unremembered.

Every single person who has palm read, face read, card read, star read my life past present and future no matter who or what background they were from says the same thing, you are too trusting of peoples, learn to be shrewd and cunning if you wish to survive. Learn to make your heart of stone, or else all around will jointly swallow you into oblivion.

But I find it odd to start any interaction or relationship thinking the worst of a person or how I might get the best out of someone and not care if they hurt from it. But I have learnt once too many times my inability to see the evil in people or their perceived 'evil' in me and that they go to such great lengths to harm me.

I am straight blunt honest. But I am not perfect. I am human. I make my own errors in judgment of people. I make errors too in how I conduct my life. Too innocent too naive too trusting, time and again I get smacked in my teeth. I speak out when things are troubling me but not I am learning to withhold what troubles me, what causes me grief or strife. I am learning to calculate what I say to whom in measured lengths and wait for those with ill intentions to go full circle and come back to starting point.

Also I am not afraid now to say ENOUGH! STOP! I've had it with being nice. Now when pushed up against a corner because people perceive that my gullibility is something they can hinge on to torment me I fight back. I am learning to use my leonine stealth traits. No longer do I worry. If something has gone wrong, I prepare for the worst ... I have been to hell and I came back once too many times, I know what hell smells likes, I know Satan too personally - he is waiting for my soul even though I have never wagered mine for anything from him.

But others see it fit to pawn my life my soul my spirit my sanity to Satan in return for their fragile pathetic existence of a semblance of calm. I scream inside my head what gave you the fucking right to do that with my life damnit ... but externally I remain mum, silent, because I know no amount of screaming my displeasure will make difference. People are not concerned with anyone else but themselves. And they are always suspicious of anyone who is outside the typical classification of people. It drives them nuts that they cannot call me bitch, they cannot call me saint ... I am neither. I am only .ani, still learning the ropes, still getting burnt along the way, still being drawn into the mind games of the sick out of genuine concern for another being because I hope by doing some good, God might save me from the worst levels of purgatory which others have sold me for.

I wonder then how I might kidnap my life back into my hands. I see the inevitables before me and I am fighting to find the right answer. I know the key is inside me. I know the answers are there clearly before me. Which set of options do I take and where will these lead me? Will I like the children in Narnia, stumble through the closet to find life remains unchanged whilst a lifetime has already been lived?? In the end, I must master my destiny, and I can smell it .... what then is holding me back? A fear that more strangers will come forward to wager my life for their own demon infested existence short lived pleasures??

May these find their own trail to sanity and life, I wish to continue my journey forward without hesitation or fear, but with an reinforced belief that my heart is loving, I aim to go through life without making fools out of people, without leaving scars or tears in my departure ... because inevitably we all must prepare for inevitable end.

I leave these musings to take my future to bed. Ashna and Kasha, they are the future I struggle forward for... and I will not let anyone hijack this journey, if you push me harder, I will strike back and I will draw blood - be you warned!

RRooooAAAaaarRRRR!

Lost My Identity ... Feb 08, 2008

.ani losses here identity??? HOW is that possible??? Well it seems it's happened and there's nothing I can do about it. I think it must over 12 years now since I first ventured into online and became a global citizen somewhat that people have known me as .ani, where some even go to the extent of saying hi dot ani ... it's funny but it's me! You know what I mean?

Of course it also comes with a lot of jokes at my expense like ani.com and worse when they actually see my official name does have the '@' in it ... they ask are you really a dot com??? SHEEZ!

Why .ani? Why not !ani or ani! or ?ani or ani? or wings or boobs or whatever .... why .ani? Well is seemed like a good idea at the time and it caught on with everyone and oh wait maybe it was an offshoot from .sha my good pal and it was just my way of humbly putting forth my ideas or thoughts. Seemed like an extension of the already multi-layered me.

But recently, someone took my .ani and made it ani. ... ok ok there's nothing to it really ... they have the same Anita and they could call themselves Ani too ... just seemed so odd to see others refering to this person as Ani and seeing ani. ani. ani. all over the place.

I've no grievance upon the person. They are welcome too to use whatever they are comfortable with but it has seemed to have somewhat killed a part of me that's been there for over a decade now. An identity. I never had to explain further who I was if I signed off .ani - it was enough immediately people knew who I was.

The lady is a nice lady much older than myself and has had several challenges in life which are inspiring to see how she has overcome. She calls me friend too and is very supportive of my ramblings. But it was really weird.

So weird that it has completely put me off being online. I lost interest in posting on forums I belonged to. In fact I dreaded posting on the same threads as she did because at the onset of her 'identity theft' (I am so territorial aren't I?) there was some confusion as to who was posting.

ani. can easily be mistaken for .ani - and her views are on the other end of the scale to mine. I think I am more vocal and brutally honest in comparison. Some readers mistook her postings to be mine. After some such instances, I began avoiding sharing my thoughts on any post she'd written on and if she wrote on a post after I did, I never revisited that post again ... there was a sick feeling in my tummy.

I felt this strongly because up until the point she'd gotten to interacting with me, she used to sign off with her full name Anita followed by surname. After chatting with me, I found this subtle change and it troubled me. I wanted to laugh at myself that I allowed such an event to affect me.

But I guess when you're already battling so many things in your life, such subtle encroachment into one's 'territory' even if it's an identity, it can have quite drastic effects.

I left the group she was on, I left all the other groups she sporadically popped up in. And I hardly am active on the network anymore. There's a probability that she might read this post ... do I have a concern if she does?

Actually no. I mean I am allowed to feel what I feel or felt. And since distancing myself from that network and this mayhap flattering copycat, I feel a lot better. I am amongst friends who have always known me as .ani and amongst friends who know me as a person. Not with people who one moment think it works for them to be 'seen' in my company and when it's gained its mileage to drop me from their contact lists.

I am also just going through a revisit of needs and online time is not really top priority ... offline I am still .ani to good friends ... and happy to be so ...

ani. can have the forums and threads ... so long as she finds joy in it. My enthusiasm and spirit was culled when I was not .ani the uniquely individual and so I left ... I have my blog space to do my rantings and voicing of matters that I feel strongly about. So lesser people might be reading them but hey ... that don't matter either.

Anyone stole your identity lately???

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow Feb 05, 2008

Yesterday colours today effecting tomorrow ...

Is there any truth in that statement? I think there is ... more than one would like to admit, at least for myself it does I think even if I try my darnest to not be pulled down by a previous day's grievance.

Try as I might, if my yesterday had gone shitty, my today is likely to be coloured by the negatives of the past day. And even if tomorrow might be forecast to be bright and sunny, am likely to see dark clouds rife with thunder and lightening in my horizon ...

It's funny how we control our own minds and destinies ... (oh hell am I being sucked into the this mambo jumbo about Law of Attraction??) but I have noted if I make a concerted effort not to let the mess of yesterday colour the new canvas of today, and take the brand new day with vigour and excitement - usually today turns out far better than I expected.

Which then naturally sets me in a good mood for tomorrow ... even if tomorrow might be wrought with misadventure. That is a completely different day ... a whole new canvas to fill.

What then is the point that I've noted from all this ... living one day at a time ... I used to be the planner (ok ok I still am the planner) and it used to crush me to watch my plans smashed and awry ... now I make smaller plans mostly with how to just make it through another day. One that has no regrets or misadventures. One that manages to create some form of happy memory either from a laugh with friends, or a good day at application testing, or the funny drawings my babies do for me when I get home ... small things small pleasures ... nothing complicated.

Admittedly I do still allow the screw ups of the previous day sometimes to carry forward into my present and the mood is all down and I feel crummy but as long as I am able to discern that it is within my control to make it better or leave it to languish in melodrama, at least I am still in a position to make amends. Now that's something to smile about I am sure.

I like this ability to review my own actions. I find that in doing so, I can be a little more objective the next time I start to go all melodramatic on myself *eheheh* I can be a Drama Queen too sometimes *eheheh* but usually in the privacy of my driving hours ... there's no point in being DQ with others ... people don't give a hoot anyhows :))

Yesterday's lessons, implemented today, shape tomorrow - yes? A much more positive attitude I should think :)) ... yup yup ... I like this better ....

The Fallibility of Trust, Feb 04, 2008

Trust is a very complex thing. Some people in their entire lifetime never learn to trust another living soul nor intentions of others. Then there are those like me, who seem to work on the premise that give a person your trust and let them prove themselves.

Need I say that this approach to life is wrought with heartache? I should know - I keep getting burnt ever so often from trusting strangers. The logic with which I tend to work on is that, everyone has some good in them, and so we should not judge them to be evil or bad intentioned until they prove to be so.

Love they say is infallible but trust??? Fallible most certainly. It's existence in any given social context is fragile. People who trust others work on the principle that everyone is agendaless like themselves. No hidden meanings from interactions or exchanges ad verbatim ... but alas! The truth is, when you trust blindly, you will be led into trouble just as blindly.

Why this sudden train of thought? Well, have just recently had a small bout of being kicked in my teeth by certain individuals. And that brought me to the point where I said enough stop! ... Like I think I have previously mentioned, I often am filled with pangs of guilt for having to step away from something totally awry because I feel I have not given it my best.

But indeed, it's soul freeing, emancipating to be able to realise that I can step away and not feel those pangs of guilt at not being able to make things better. There is saying it takes two to tango and two hands to clap. I have found myself often to be the one party either trying to clap or tango - and that eventually leads to not such a pretty sight ... failure is inevitable.

So now what does .ani tell herself when those familiar alarm bells ring inside my heart - if it's faltering and I've tried everything in the book I know, then I just tell myself enough stop and step aside.

There is absolutely no sense in beating myself up over what others might construe to be me or not me. It's their mind games, their sense of reality, their self designed Utopia. I cannot do anything to change that perception they have of me - and honestly like Clark Gable said, "I don't give a damn!"

Life is complicated enough without trying to be saviour or martyr to the broken hearted or wronged all the time. I mean not everyone is diabolically good or evil ... I believe there are shades of grey but some are more black and some are more white - it's what makes the world go round. If people's perception of me is that I am diabolically evil or saccharine sweet - that's their perceptions ... what motivates those thoughts are not within my control.

Am just chugging along with my own music to dance to ... I've come to a conclusion that I can either distrust every single person or I can continue to trust people but with each person, there's an exclusion clause that I attach knowing that potentially this person could likely turn around and spit venom at me at any given time. That way when it happens, I am neither upset nor shocked - it was expected.

Some might say that's not the way to go through life, but then again is there a problem free sure fire formula to living life? I am susceptible to the thought that one man's meat is another man's poison ... so there is no one perfect fit for mankind. We just chug along learning to adapt to what works for us as a person.

So yeah, trust is fallible, given or received ... I probably have misused the trust others have given me too ... and am not surprised either. I am human for God's sake, I haven't attained my God status just yet ... not likely too at the rate I am going. There are some really interesting facets to this but I am too prescription drugged to coherently express myself on this - shall at some juncture revisit.

The point I was trying to make, all good intentions aside, trust is fragile. Once that has been shattered, nothing can mend those cracks or make it whole again. I've had this thing called trust smashed so often, I think I've come to regard that nobody holds it with sanctity it deserves and have been also guilty of smashing that given to me ... albeit unconsciously ... I am making no excuses, but sometimes what I find funny is not a shared sentiment by others... and thus trouble when I least expect it.

Anyhows, whilst moaning in silent stuffed up agony and high fever, I had some disjointed thoughts on this matter and in a nutshell, one of the most fallible of human expectations is trust.

Do you agree?