Relationships are hard work. But does anyone know a way by which someone can measure how much work has been done? Is it the amount of time spent, is it the amount of money invested, is it the sacrifices that you made, is it the pain that you endured to make it last however long it lasted?
The funny thing, however is that, how much ever hard work you've done, you are just a mind swing away from seeing everything collapse. Yes, the best relationships are that fragile. Admit it. Be honest to yourself. And be kind to yourself when such a thing happens to you.
Possibilities are that, if you are a person who loves to loathe, you will be convicting yourself of committing the sin which led to the collapse. If you have low self esteem, you will definitely feel that you weren't good enough for that relationship. If you are a person who believes in establishing your righteousness in having brought the downfall, you will end up creating a fantastic fictional piece out of what happened, totally forgetting that the real reasons could be something else altogether.
I'm all this bundled into one. I do all this and wallow in my misery. But somewhere, somehow I was supported by friends who convinced me that I'm not bad or wrong, that I should be strong and positive, that I should take broken pieces and fit it all together in another manner so as to create another jigsaw puzzle, that they are simply amazed by the resilience and hard work that had been needed to uphold what just fell apart.
I'm thankful to all of them. They make the hard work of what's lost seem worthy. Trust me, this is so important, so very important!
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label emotions. Show all posts
Promiscuity of the Soul
This poem was written by Vinokur and was inspired by my colleauge SS. Thanks to both!
There is, of course, the promiscuity of flesh -
reviled or celebrated through the ages.
There is, as well, a promiscuity of the soul.
It madly, blindly, greedily grasps at life.
From this multiplicity, this frenzied fielding of efforts,
good or bad ensues:
Confusion, incompletion, frustration, sorrow, wreckage.
And, finally,
madness.
Or multi-faceted genius
steeped in knowledge, experience, wisdom.
It wins the Nobel Prize.
Is hailed, admired by all.
What determines
which it will be?
Biochemistry.
There is, of course, the promiscuity of flesh -
reviled or celebrated through the ages.
There is, as well, a promiscuity of the soul.
It madly, blindly, greedily grasps at life.
From this multiplicity, this frenzied fielding of efforts,
good or bad ensues:
Confusion, incompletion, frustration, sorrow, wreckage.
And, finally,
madness.
Or multi-faceted genius
steeped in knowledge, experience, wisdom.
It wins the Nobel Prize.
Is hailed, admired by all.
What determines
which it will be?
Biochemistry.
Forgetful self
I forget, I can't forgive myself
I fidget, I can't control myself
I'm upset, I can't free myself
I molest, I can't stop myself
I regret, I can't mould myself
I fret, I can't unlearn myself
I'm my pet, I can't teach myself
I let, I can't blame myself
Will I get, some peace myself?
I fidget, I can't control myself
I'm upset, I can't free myself
I molest, I can't stop myself
I regret, I can't mould myself
I fret, I can't unlearn myself
I'm my pet, I can't teach myself
I let, I can't blame myself
Will I get, some peace myself?
Overwhelmed
Why do we give in so much
To life and all things such
We wish too much, I kiss too much
People, animals, and things as such
Why are we in pain so much
The pills can't cure all this much
We work too much, I love too much
Work, hobby, and duties as such
Why don't we gain so much
We are fools, I guessed as much
We pray too much, I cry too much
My heart, my soul, and all that mush
Why can't we cease, all of us
We aren't immortal, we know that much
I hope too much, can't act that much
I surrender everything, all this fuss
To life and all things such
We wish too much, I kiss too much
People, animals, and things as such
Why are we in pain so much
The pills can't cure all this much
We work too much, I love too much
Work, hobby, and duties as such
Why don't we gain so much
We are fools, I guessed as much
We pray too much, I cry too much
My heart, my soul, and all that mush
Why can't we cease, all of us
We aren't immortal, we know that much
I hope too much, can't act that much
I surrender everything, all this fuss
Coming out to my Mom
What exactly transpired between me and Mom during the coming out process? Here's the report.
After my tiring 2 day trip in a bus from Mumbai to Thiruvananthapuram, I was able to keep my spirits up high when I met my Mom and Dad at their new house. We didn't hug and exchange wishes in a westernized ceremony. I just started talking to my Mom and Dad. My Dad was doing 'pooja' and was running late for a religious engagement (he's on the team from the temple for chanting and all that) and couldn't really participate in the exchanges too much. I was disappointed with that. But I bonded really well with my Mom and we carried on our conversation after Dad had left home after having breakfast. I helped her with her tiring daily chores in the kitchen and we talked and got to know about each other much better than ever before while cooking that day's lunch.
By the time the chores were over, I and Mom had connected at a very deep level talking about life, our problems and the ways to solve them. I felt this was the moment to come out to her. But I had decided on the advice from many people (inlcuding Mr. Bach and other friends) that it was better to come out to both parents at the same time. Because I had to catch Uncle N. (the only person in my family who I had come out other than my sister) and his daughter before she left to give her exams, I couldn't do it in the afternoon. I had a long conversation on deciding the strategy to come out with Uncle N. He suggested that I talk to them in the evening without involving him in the issue. The reason that he stated was that in the event of my parents reacting abnormally, he could be there to give them solace; I'd have to leave anyway after 4 days.
That seemed perfectly fine to me. He dropped me back home and promised that he'd help my parents get in a talking frame of mind before he left for the evening. To our dismay, there were a couple of relatives in the house when we got there. And they weren't going anywhere in a hurry. Uncle N. hung around for a few minutes and by the time he was leaving, my Dad suggested that he's going out to the classical music concert that was on in the evening. I tried to ask him to stay back so that we could 'talk' but he didn't get the hint. I felt rather disappointed and sorry and it was quite evident to me and Uncle N. My Mom on the other hand, got the lead and opted to stay back and 'talk' to me.
In an hour or so, my relatives were leaving and finally I had a window of time where I could come out to at least my Mom. I asked my Mom if she could help me unpack in my room upstairs. She visibly had the intuition that I have been wanting to talk to her and agreed. We went upstairs and in a few minutes we were in a good conversation. Somewhere along, we stumbled on the issue of marriage. I grabbed this opportunity and asked her if she was wondering why I was refusing a marriage. She replied saying that she knew that I had come to tell her something. Voila!
I asked her if she had suspected anything about me. She said no. I told her that unlike the impression that my folks seemed to have, I wanted to find a partner as fast as possible and have a family. But, I carried on, she needed to know something about me, something which was going to be something very heavy and perhaps unexpected, something that she might be hurt by, something that would cause her to react in an abnormal way. But I assured her that I loved her. Then I told her 'I like men, Mom. I can't think of a physical or an emotional relationship with a woman. Instead, I have an emotional and physical attraction towards men. This is not an abnormality, or a disease. It's just natural and about 10% of the society are like this at any moment, both men and women. Such people are called gay.'
At first she seemed to be confused and she needed me to repeat a line here and there. But slowly she was realizing and she started smiling. I was so happy! She asked me why I hadn't told her any sooner. I explained to her how I and my sister had decided to let them not know the news until it was necessary, thus trying to not hurt her. She said that it was unnecessary and I should have told her as soon as I could. She also said that she can accept her son for who he was and will support him no matter what happens. I went on to tell her how it had evolved in my childhood, how I was attracted to my teachers in school and professors in college. Oh, I also told her that I was naturally attracted to men much older than my age. I showed her the pictures of Vinokur and Mr. Bach (both were on my camera).
Soon, the conversation got more personal as she got out of her initial surprise and I started asking her if she had suspected it. She said she hadn't. I asked her if she remember seeing pictures of naked men on my computer some time in the late 90s. She said she did but she hadn't correlated the two. Then I gave her the bounty – I asked her if she rememberd us watching Baywatch for the same reason – David Hasselhoff. That sure gave her the explanations she wanted. Her smiled grew broader and she realized how her likes and mine, at least in men, matched. We talked on for a few more minutes until it was time for dinner. On her way down the steps, she told me 'I'll talk to your father.' I said 'No Mom. It's my responsibility. You can help me when I do it.' She smiled at me and walked down the staircase.
After my tiring 2 day trip in a bus from Mumbai to Thiruvananthapuram, I was able to keep my spirits up high when I met my Mom and Dad at their new house. We didn't hug and exchange wishes in a westernized ceremony. I just started talking to my Mom and Dad. My Dad was doing 'pooja' and was running late for a religious engagement (he's on the team from the temple for chanting and all that) and couldn't really participate in the exchanges too much. I was disappointed with that. But I bonded really well with my Mom and we carried on our conversation after Dad had left home after having breakfast. I helped her with her tiring daily chores in the kitchen and we talked and got to know about each other much better than ever before while cooking that day's lunch.
By the time the chores were over, I and Mom had connected at a very deep level talking about life, our problems and the ways to solve them. I felt this was the moment to come out to her. But I had decided on the advice from many people (inlcuding Mr. Bach and other friends) that it was better to come out to both parents at the same time. Because I had to catch Uncle N. (the only person in my family who I had come out other than my sister) and his daughter before she left to give her exams, I couldn't do it in the afternoon. I had a long conversation on deciding the strategy to come out with Uncle N. He suggested that I talk to them in the evening without involving him in the issue. The reason that he stated was that in the event of my parents reacting abnormally, he could be there to give them solace; I'd have to leave anyway after 4 days.
That seemed perfectly fine to me. He dropped me back home and promised that he'd help my parents get in a talking frame of mind before he left for the evening. To our dismay, there were a couple of relatives in the house when we got there. And they weren't going anywhere in a hurry. Uncle N. hung around for a few minutes and by the time he was leaving, my Dad suggested that he's going out to the classical music concert that was on in the evening. I tried to ask him to stay back so that we could 'talk' but he didn't get the hint. I felt rather disappointed and sorry and it was quite evident to me and Uncle N. My Mom on the other hand, got the lead and opted to stay back and 'talk' to me.
In an hour or so, my relatives were leaving and finally I had a window of time where I could come out to at least my Mom. I asked my Mom if she could help me unpack in my room upstairs. She visibly had the intuition that I have been wanting to talk to her and agreed. We went upstairs and in a few minutes we were in a good conversation. Somewhere along, we stumbled on the issue of marriage. I grabbed this opportunity and asked her if she was wondering why I was refusing a marriage. She replied saying that she knew that I had come to tell her something. Voila!
I asked her if she had suspected anything about me. She said no. I told her that unlike the impression that my folks seemed to have, I wanted to find a partner as fast as possible and have a family. But, I carried on, she needed to know something about me, something which was going to be something very heavy and perhaps unexpected, something that she might be hurt by, something that would cause her to react in an abnormal way. But I assured her that I loved her. Then I told her 'I like men, Mom. I can't think of a physical or an emotional relationship with a woman. Instead, I have an emotional and physical attraction towards men. This is not an abnormality, or a disease. It's just natural and about 10% of the society are like this at any moment, both men and women. Such people are called gay.'
At first she seemed to be confused and she needed me to repeat a line here and there. But slowly she was realizing and she started smiling. I was so happy! She asked me why I hadn't told her any sooner. I explained to her how I and my sister had decided to let them not know the news until it was necessary, thus trying to not hurt her. She said that it was unnecessary and I should have told her as soon as I could. She also said that she can accept her son for who he was and will support him no matter what happens. I went on to tell her how it had evolved in my childhood, how I was attracted to my teachers in school and professors in college. Oh, I also told her that I was naturally attracted to men much older than my age. I showed her the pictures of Vinokur and Mr. Bach (both were on my camera).
Soon, the conversation got more personal as she got out of her initial surprise and I started asking her if she had suspected it. She said she hadn't. I asked her if she remember seeing pictures of naked men on my computer some time in the late 90s. She said she did but she hadn't correlated the two. Then I gave her the bounty – I asked her if she rememberd us watching Baywatch for the same reason – David Hasselhoff. That sure gave her the explanations she wanted. Her smiled grew broader and she realized how her likes and mine, at least in men, matched. We talked on for a few more minutes until it was time for dinner. On her way down the steps, she told me 'I'll talk to your father.' I said 'No Mom. It's my responsibility. You can help me when I do it.' She smiled at me and walked down the staircase.
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