Friday, February 19, 2016

Not to Hate



With my previous post about hatred going online, I received few raised eyebrows and pretty good smiles. Nothing better I say. But hey! Last night I discovered something. The story, here it goes.

Our PG’s care-taker is one such fellow in my list of hatreds. Why? Because his eye balls google here and there, sometimes following a girl, like the scent of her perfume. He chit-chats with PG girls, every now and then, talking honey coated, sugary-jaggery and goes sweet and polite. All the girls are happy to have him around at the dinner table. Me and my roommates call that person chantu meaning clever in a bad way.

Yesterday, when I was done with dinner at around 11 pm, I saw him taking the lid off the food, and checking if anything was left to fill his own tummy. No dinning with the cheerful girls tonight? I thought and asked him, “Anna, why are you taking dinner so late?” His reply with a grin, “Oh I had a lot of work today.” Without giving a thought, I just went away to my room and later realizing that the owner of PG had dropped in that evening so mister had to retain his modesty.

Another point that hit my head was that this time I did not get annoyed with him; I just passed from there without bothering for his reply and thinking where he was looking. I realized that hatred is a self inflicted burden. You have to do that whenever you see the trigger clicked, like a drill. But you don’t have to do that, you don’t have to think and you don’t have to act and you will see, the grenade that would burst you, will be useless even when the pin is pulled out. You would have defused it!
To be in control of yourself is to be wise.

But mind you, this is when you are indirectly getting under the showers of acidic rain. If the cloud is right over, you have a right to take out your own umbrella and prevent yourself and may be even poke out googly eyes.


Thursday, February 18, 2016

Hate

I have tried calming myself down when I see a person whom I hate or get irritated with. I, more often associate this feeling of hatred with getting annoyed with people. Yes, there are valid reasons, if you ask me. For instance, our manager, who seems to be overly interested in approaching girls with utter sweetness, trying for unnecessary attention unless he wants to prove himself as a pervert, which I had heard he actually has and now, am completely sure of. Staring at a girl like a piece of sausage gets you those remarks and even asking her out for coffee, without realizing that you have a family.

I have tried making peace with my mind over this issue, who never gives up on releasing my stress and anger hormones when humans like these are around. It is easy to love, may be easier to hate. Perceptions can be deceiving I agree but experiences don’t lie about the fact.

Sometimes even my brother annoys me, to buy him gadgets, I get irritated but I don’t hate him. Of course he is my brother and thus he has the right to ask for things, for which I have equal rights to deny. Thus this criterion seems valid to be devoid of even the mention of the word hate.
Hate seeds in the mind of beholder when people know they are doing wrong and deny acknowledging their deeds. Hate is invited when someone keeps their crime a secret. Hate is subjective and relative in all terms.

When it comes to those levels that our control goes beyond our comprehension and thoughts, we forget how to forgive. What to do in that stage, I have no clue about, because seeing things happen in horrendous ways doesn’t let one forgive. It is definitely not easy to forgive and leave the reigns of hatred, when bad and annoying things still continue.

This in turn sticks to our brains like cobweb do, and as they pull a trigger on their part, it brings a surge of uncontrolled hatred at my end or anybody’s for that matter.



How to deal with it?  How to forgive? How to forget?




Thursday, February 11, 2016

She never looked back

The wedding gown burned
As she walked down the aisle
The ring in her finger
She never looked back
The wedding gown dragged 
And picked up the dirt
The tulips left her hands
She never looked back
The goblet of wine
Wobbled at the table
The window flaps sealed
And the light turned black
The candles raged flames
The wax dripped on skin
But the bishop read versus
And she never looked back
The kiss was perfect
Yet wounds popped
Brought poisoned slow death
Still She never looked back
The lie felt like truth
Thus became a habit with time
And so until she rested
She never looked back