Week? Month. Whatever...
All my seniors who took gap years warned me that they get boring in February. I sailed through Feb. Swaggered through March. I told people that gap years were meant for me, I loved every second.
Then I ran out of things to do.
One day I was bored and lying on the couch watching strangely dressed NRIs dancing around in a K-Jo movie with fascinated horror. Maybe the florescent clothes hypnotized me a little. The next day I was throwing up five times a day and too weak to get up. That wasn't even the bad part.
The bad part was my mom waking me up to ask me if I was feeling ok and then telling me the silver lining of my sickness was that I might lose some weight.
Thanks Mom. Worst nurse ever!
Once I was better I realised that I had actually slept for four days, not one and missed a Chelsea semi-final. I also started suspecting that I wasn't actually Sherlock Holmes and that might have just been a fever induced hallucination. Both these facts depressed me a lot so I enrolled at the local swimming pool.
I hate swimming. My total lack of grace on solid land is only magnified in water. Moms probably point me out to their children as an example of how-to-not-swim. The other day I crashed into someone, floundered in the water till I was sure I'd drown and then grabbed a passing butt to regain sea level.
I thought I'd hit rock bottom till I went to the vegetable market, lost one of the two bags I was carrying and retraced my steps for half an hour in an effort to find it. The vegetable-seller-person suggested that I look in bag one to find bag two. I mean, do I really look that stupid? I nodded politely and walked away. Then I bought a watermelon, telling myself that I could eat it for four days and hence wouldn't have to come back to the horrible bazaar. Two minutes later I realize that I'm not strong enough to carry it home.
After staggering home with that giant watermelon (it was the smallest in the store) I'm taking some well-earned rest. Mom walks in. She launches into a whole worry thing featuring a mean conservative mother in law vs me. ME? I'm 22 and weddings scare me. Not to mention relationships, responsibility and commitment.
"Ma, can we not talk about this?"
"Why can't we talk about this? We never talk. These things are real. We should talk about it. Listen I'll totally beat up your mean mother-in-law!"
The imaginary one?
"You're going to miss me when I die and there's noone to beat up your mother-in-law!"
Yep, that wiped the smile off my face. Now I was just baffled.
Still not finished she goes on,"I'm sure you're gay. That's why you're so uncooperative when I try to talk about these things."
I got up and ran. Earphones!
Did I miss the headlining research on mothers-in-law being nicer when the couple is gay?
Maybe I'll start reading newspapers to get rid of this boredom. Be up to date on mothers-in-law and genetically modified mini-watermelons.
All my seniors who took gap years warned me that they get boring in February. I sailed through Feb. Swaggered through March. I told people that gap years were meant for me, I loved every second.
Then I ran out of things to do.
One day I was bored and lying on the couch watching strangely dressed NRIs dancing around in a K-Jo movie with fascinated horror. Maybe the florescent clothes hypnotized me a little. The next day I was throwing up five times a day and too weak to get up. That wasn't even the bad part.
The bad part was my mom waking me up to ask me if I was feeling ok and then telling me the silver lining of my sickness was that I might lose some weight.
Thanks Mom. Worst nurse ever!
Once I was better I realised that I had actually slept for four days, not one and missed a Chelsea semi-final. I also started suspecting that I wasn't actually Sherlock Holmes and that might have just been a fever induced hallucination. Both these facts depressed me a lot so I enrolled at the local swimming pool.
I hate swimming. My total lack of grace on solid land is only magnified in water. Moms probably point me out to their children as an example of how-to-not-swim. The other day I crashed into someone, floundered in the water till I was sure I'd drown and then grabbed a passing butt to regain sea level.
I thought I'd hit rock bottom till I went to the vegetable market, lost one of the two bags I was carrying and retraced my steps for half an hour in an effort to find it. The vegetable-seller-person suggested that I look in bag one to find bag two. I mean, do I really look that stupid? I nodded politely and walked away. Then I bought a watermelon, telling myself that I could eat it for four days and hence wouldn't have to come back to the horrible bazaar. Two minutes later I realize that I'm not strong enough to carry it home.
After staggering home with that giant watermelon (it was the smallest in the store) I'm taking some well-earned rest. Mom walks in. She launches into a whole worry thing featuring a mean conservative mother in law vs me. ME? I'm 22 and weddings scare me. Not to mention relationships, responsibility and commitment.
"Ma, can we not talk about this?"
"Why can't we talk about this? We never talk. These things are real. We should talk about it. Listen I'll totally beat up your mean mother-in-law!"
The imaginary one?
"You're going to miss me when I die and there's noone to beat up your mother-in-law!"
Yep, that wiped the smile off my face. Now I was just baffled.
Still not finished she goes on,"I'm sure you're gay. That's why you're so uncooperative when I try to talk about these things."
I got up and ran. Earphones!
Did I miss the headlining research on mothers-in-law being nicer when the couple is gay?
Maybe I'll start reading newspapers to get rid of this boredom. Be up to date on mothers-in-law and genetically modified mini-watermelons.
No comments:
Post a Comment