Miserable Caboodle

I received a lot of complaints (I mean a LOT) that I write grave, provocative and miserable caboodle or I bait with dishonest pathos and end up deconstructing unreliable xenophobia. Hope I am able to shake off this perception of being an excessively settled homosapien. Just yesterday, I was told (again) that I need deep inner cleansing. I must admit I am guilty of using my friends, colleagues and hub as props in my musings. I can’t use my mom because, I know, each one of you will be exceptionally dismayed if I do. Writing in third person just doesn’t seem real.

I enjoy self-deprecating humor. However, the gush amongst my near and dear is that, not many people understand it. Secondly, I’ve offended some self-righteous greatest and best already. What could I possibly say to charm – that I’ve uncovered seven gray hair in the first week of being hunkered down or that I’ve realized that I look like a grizzly bear since it has been four weeks I waxed my legs or that I suddenly see my unibrow. The woes are never-ending. It is even worse when the husband says that I look unalike, opposing to the habitual encomium that I look ‘solid’. I’ve never reckoned that even after 14 years of being willingly wedded to him. Perhaps, it means firm or fit or maybe it is his way of saying I’m pleasantly plump. I shall never know.

My creativity starts and ends when I turn back to see what’s going down the toilet to catch a last glimpse of the color or consistency to map it to the right consumption of fiber. I am a fan of the stunning ladies who did a social-distancing message in six-yards of exposed midriff. Soon after, I got inspired and started working out so I can measure mine with some delightful oomph. Neither am I courageous enough to post pictures of my drenched booty as it is hideous as hell nor I can parade my dexterity by pirouetting. Hopefully, all the stimuli from social media will bring me to senses.

I am hardly getting it together these days multi-tasking the discerning innovation, doing and undoing Marie Kando to end up with a fold that works for my mess. There might be a day in the very nearest future when I could see my face on the wooden floor. Adding to my already existing first world problems, I am beginning to suspect my hub’s hair is going to be longer than mine in few days. Then I must worry about shedding hair in shades of ashen and clogged vacuum cleaners. After all, on the purity barometer, I haven’t been able to elevate him.

After 27 years of doodling childhood friendships, 12 of us finally got on a Zoom call last Saturday. It was riot but I couldn’t stop reminding myself on how people have in forgetful focus displayed their travels to the toilet or pre-birth. And they got themselves famous with all the obtuse pass-on. These contemporary times have helped us discover lucid destruction. There is nothing that will beat the trafficking of traditional rage (i.e. the toilet paper) despite the silver sovereignty and the bath, practically being in the same legroom. Yet, gazillions of them shaped the capitalistic disguise and may have landed altruistically on heirlooms.

It was bothering me how all that ‘Purell’ disappeared like objects in witchcraft. The bottom-line being that people not washing their hands could bring down the entire stock market. I hope they are washing their behinds, otherwise, we’re sure to test the impatient modernity. Today, I learned the best lesson in a while. I asked one of my direct reports, on what they are doing to give back to the community. And they said. “NOTHING. I am staying home and keeping the community safe.” That answer undoubtedly will shut me up for the lengthiest time. Gone are those days when vigorous civic undertakings outweighed couch-potatoes.

For all those who are feeling left out that they are just staying put and not inspiring through pictures or through saree or lungi challenge participation or doing amazing ‘Tik-Tok’ entertaining or forwarding videos – don’t you worry. You are playing a very important role in keeping communities safe by summarizing thoughtful boundaries and helping deplete less brain power. And those that motivate through their magnificently chiseled physiques or the certifications they’ve earned or the forgotten hobbies they’ve invigorated or the priceless remembrances that they have created with friends and family – please continue to voice friendly jealousies. After all, destabilizing this untrusting lunacy is our collective stratagem by self-centered alienation.

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