Excuse Me, My Brains Have Stepped Out Read online

  “The soul afraid of dying, that never learns to live.”-The Rose, Bette Midler

  Missing you very much. Always your little girl.

  I’M NOT NOISY, I’M JUST ALLERGIC TO SILENCE

  There are some days when I truly wish with all my heart that some people are capable of having headaches like mine. The kind of crippling pain that will creep up on you and then linger at your forehead before spreading to the rest of your head and face. The headache that will give your whole head such a heavy, tired sensation and make you ever so sensitive to sound that you will be able to hear a pencil moving on paper. It is a very cruel thought, I know, but when some people make noise as though they are allergic to silence, it really makes me wonder who has the brain condition.

  Take for instance, a banging door. You can open a door. You can close a door. You do not have to bang it. Most times, banging insinuates anger, irritation or even an accidental slip of your fingers. And yet some people are capable of banging doors every time they open or close one. Swing, bang. Swing, bang. The whole world does not need to know you have just opened or closed a door.

  Beep-beep. Gaa-Gaaa. Beep-Beep. No, Dad, I haven’t totally lost it, well not yet anyway. Have you ever noticed the chorus of mobile tones in some of the loudest notes known to man? This makes me wonder, which is more important, do you need to know you have received a text message or does everyone within a ten kilometre radius need to know this as well? And it is not even a one time tone, it goes on and on and the owner is completely oblivious to the fact that maybe, just maybe others do not want to keep hearing such annoying loud sounds coming from such a small device. Imagine this, you are sitting in a hospital emergency waiting area. Lots and lots of very sick people in need of medical attention. There appears to be a lady who has no visible physical limitations whatsoever who insists on using her mobile on speaker mode. And if you think it was a silent whisper, think again.

  From another perspective, maybe her mobile has malfunctioned and that is the only way she can use the phone. Wrong. After she finishes screaming because she cannot hear the person on the other end, she hangs up and makes another call. This time she speaks just as loud but minus the speaker function. Seriously? Then there are the human alarm clocks some of us choose to be. This is the person who insists on waking you up but gentleness does not seem to exist in their vocabulary. They throw open your room door, scream your name and you wake up thinking at least a ton of bricks has fallen on your head. Let’s not forget the raging headache that refuses to leave you for the rest of the day. Then there are those who seem to think that it is completely necessary to share their entire life story with everyone within the vicinity. They do this quite often in crowded spaces such as a bank or restaurant. Honestly? No one really wants to know how many dresses you’ll be buying your daughter for her birthday.

  Here is another thought, why do some people go to the cinema if having a phone conversation is more important to them? You are the only one who understands how important your phone call is. When you choose to pick it up in front of at least one hundred strangers, rest assured others do not share the same sentiment. Unlike you, some of us are actually there to watch the movie not to listen to your chunk of juicy gossip or to catch a glimpse of how important you are at work. The same goes for watching television, if you are not watching then maybe someone else is. Talking about what is happening around the neighbourhood and the rest of world may seem a wee bit distracting to say the least.

  Let us not forget the car horn tooters who think their presence is even more important to announce than British royalty. All hours of the day, “toot, toot” or “blare, blare” and some of them even come with additional echoes. In case no one has ever mentioned it before, car horns are meant to be used for emergencies or in some cases a quick hello as you drive past.

  I highly doubt that the person who created car horns intended it to be used morning, noon, night or as late as 2:00 a.m. to announce your arrival and departure. All of this makes me wonder. Sometimes I think that people who make so much noise to draw attention to themselves are probably not getting enough of it at home or at work. That seems to be the only logical explanation for noise makers who willingly receive and crave attention, even if it is from complete strangers. They gloat about it or find it amusing that other people do not like their noise making efforts. There has to be some plausible explanation. I can understand as a child, we all come inbuilt with a noise mechanism but at some point in our lives we each walk into a library, learn the meaning of silence and see how appreciated it is by others. Ah well, thank heavens for ear plugs and MP3 players.

  I’M A CELEBRITY?

  Do you not just hate it when you hear someone scream at you, “Do you know who I AM?” Half of you wants to snicker and say, “I really do not give a crap if YOU do not know who you are”, then there is the other bit of you which will consider sticking your tongue out at them. Some people are under the impression that because of the car they drive, the house they live in, the clothes they wear and the gadgets they carry, they are able to shove their perceived value into someone else’s face.

  Why is it so hard to understand that materialistic items only make your life comfortable, that is why you seek them. It has nothing to do with who you are as a person. The more you make, the more comfortable you are, this concept is not rocket science. However, your level of comfort is not your given right to make yourself more annoying and it does not in any way allow you to push your weight around at the expense of another person’s downfall.

  Others make it a point to use their make-up or clothes to scream “Look at me! Look at me!” and more than half the time, the world only sees an ugly contorted face that could do with a smile. To some extent social media has made a significant contribution to this celebrity effect that seems to have affected some people. The more friends I have in the online world, the more well-known I am. The more names I have in my mobile phonebook signifies the number of people I can push around to get things done for me. Truth be told, just because you know eight hundred people in the world who at some point are connected to you, this does not in any way mean that these eight hundred people will know you or remember you all the time. There will always be someone more well-known and another less well-known than you. Same for the virtual world. Same for real life.

  There is also that notion that the more photographed you are and the more photographs you publicly display among friends or in the virtual world, with peace signs and other funny finger symbols, you will somehow become famous. Sure, you might. You may be awarded a modeling contract, you may even make more friends. Alternatively, someone might decide to use your pictures for other ‘creative’ and improper reasons and when you bellow out, “Do you know who I AM?” the only thought running through a person’s mind is that sordid, obscene picture of you doing something you will be ashamed to show your child.

  Some people choose to babble on and on about how social media is unsafe because perverts grab your pictures for a variety of reasons. A question? Who uploads these pictures online? Who provides public access to these pictures? You cannot perform an act then blame others for the consequences that arise from this act.

  More than anything, I think some people need to take a step back and remember that all material belongings can be gone in a flash. If you stomp around with so much arrogance and without showing a little heart, fate might decide to step in and show you otherwise. We are all ‘famous’ in our own rights with the talents we have, the jobs we do. No two persons are alike. At some point in our own lives, we need to realize that even though we may not be recognized the world over, we still have the ability to give the best of ourselves in what we do. When this is done, we have already made a significant contribution even if it does not receive immediate recognition. Not all of us will be the confused teenager tweaking old computers in his garage and eventually setting up one of the most popular social networks the world has come to know. And not all of us will be the famous CEO who is greete
d with a red carpet everywhere he goes. We all start at one point. And we all end at another. That’s life.

  What I do know, for sure, and you can remind me about this later on Dad, I do not want to wake up as a fifty year old and realize that I cannot smile because my face has undergone one too many face lifts. I would rather be known for my skill of writing a fabulous piece by a few people than to be famous for a wrongdoing I have lashed out on someone else. I do not want to become so conscious of what the world thinks about me that I lose sight of who I really am to the extent I have to go around screaming at strangers, “Do you know who I AM?!”.

  More than anything, I do not want to become so full of myself that my life has no room for other people. I certainly do not want to spend the earlier parts of my life scaring everyone away with my arrogance that in my old age, when I want to have Sunday tea with a friend or to go on a holiday I would have to ask at least ten people or more before someone finally says “yes”.

  ONE DAY YOU’LL KNOW

  February 23, 2010

  I am really very angry with you, Dad and the way things have turned out. I know I am to blame and I have to take responsibility for things that have happened to me but you leaving so early on in my life did not help much either.

  Then, there are the things I cannot control. My pain is worsening. I want to be better. Tell me what I have to do and I will do it. How long is this meant to last? Everywhere I turn, I seem to be engulfed in some known error contributed by me. Why can’t you at least come and help? These are the moments when I think sometimes it is just not worth talking to you. I have to say so much to get so little from you. I am not really in a talkative mood today and would much prefer to send you another poem I have written.

  Deep, deep breath. Deep down, I do not blame you for leaving but I really wish you could have just stayed.

  I am huddled in a corner

  Waiting for you to speak

  Waiting for you to love me

  Waiting for you to accept me

  Waiting for the day when you will know

  All there is to know

  One day you’ll know

  How my memories of you

  Are ones torn with torment filled words

  I craved for you to accept me as I am

  And not to break me to become who you want me to be

  One day you’ll know

  How I longed for my memories of you

  To be filled with laughter and shouts of joy

  There was always something else more important

  Joy and laughter are not priorities you said

  One day you’ll know

  You didn’t have to be correct all the time

  I didn’t want you to be perfect

  I just wanted you to be there

  For me as I have been for you

  One day you’ll know

  More wrong words have never been spoken

  When you told me to live my life

  As how others wanted to see me

  As to how others thought of me

  One day you’ll know

  That the most important standards are your own

  And others will always have something to say

  Nobody is perfect

  We can only let our own experiences be our teachers

  One day you’ll know

  Innocence robbed can never be restored

  Caught deep in your misery

  You’ll crave for memories of joy

  For moments when “we” mattered more than “I”

  One day you’ll know

  You’ll realize that too many moments have slipped by

  So much time lost

  So much distance has come in between

  So many walls have been built

  But, one day you’ll know

  Moments passed are moments gone

  Wounds may heal but scars will remain

  And scars of yesterday

  Will always be memories tomorrow

  One day you’ll crave for the chance to tell me

  That you do love me

  That you won’t change who I am

  That you will take me as I am

  That we have so much to talk about

  Where will I be, when you know?

  SOMEONE ELSE’S MAN

  Dear Dad. I really hope all is well with you. I am sorry that I sounded so angry with you before but the longing need to have you around cannot be put into words. As much as I try to understand why you had to leave there are moments when I cannot express properly. On a lighter note, I would like to tell you about another character or two that I have bumped into sometime ago.

  This is the breed that I call ‘someone else’s man’ because literally that is who he is. Not one of my proudest moments but what a lesson it turned out to be. It is as simple as meeting him at the regular Starbucks sipping a caramel macchiato. With his rugged features, casual appearance and amazing conversational skills, any girl will be head over heels. I was no exception. There’s no wedding ring so it becomes easy to get it into one’s head that he is not taken. Or is he? Very soon, you will find that he starts dropping all sorts of hints to prove otherwise.

  “It is not the way I smell” or so he will tell you. He is so very particular of all the soaps and perfumes that he leaves at your place to the extent he has even has you buying a particular brand, bringing his own or not using any soap at all when taking a shower at your place.

  There is just so much work. This can unanimously take the number one spot for Lamest Excuses 101. There will always be work. Come rain or shine. In any situation, this excuse serves as a shield for something else. But that is another story. In this situation, he will be busier than the President of the United States. He will be in numerous “meetings” day and night so he will not be able to answer any calls or text messages from you. When you ask to meet, it is only on certain days because he is just that busy. You are not allowed under any circumstances, occasion or desire to surprise him at the office because he is out for a lot of “meetings”. The list goes on and on. But you get the picture, Dad. “I want to be with you so much but it is just all this work ...”, is a line any girl with him will start to hear with increasing frequency.

  There is no invite back to his place. Because you have just met, co-habiting is a venture saved for the future, maybe. And I know if you had your way, Dad, you would probably never allow it for me at all. However, I have come to find that men (oh yes, there is more than one of them around) connected with this scenario will find it far more comfortable going out for dinner, a stay-in movie or even a rare no alarm morning when he spends the night, all at your place. When a slow but detailed probe is initiated into why there is no invite to go back to his place, he will offer a string of excuses ranging from an untidy ambiance because he is so busy at work to an annoying housemate. Should the need arise, he will even pay for a hotel room, nothing expensive obviously, because he is probably doing this a lot or resort to public places because he thinks it can add a little sizzle to your already burning out relationship. On the rare occasion that you are eventually invited for a sleepover or just dinner, you will never be allowed the wonderful opportunity to linger beyond the purpose of your visit. You will literally be shown the door with every single item of your belongings already packed in your bag. If you have been silly enough to leave something behind, there is no chance of ever seeing it again.

  Time restriction. This is linked to the above statement. I have also come to find that men involved in these scenarios are completely strict to the point of being anal about arrival and departure times. They usually arrive a little late, completely stressed out and just as things get cozy, he will be moody and pay more attention to his watch than to you. Any further queries into the matter will be answered with a lengthy, sorrowful lecture about how tired he is from working or just having to meet a client for business. What he is not telling you is that someone else is waiting for him and you have been this sneaky, tasty bite he had to h
ave along the way.

  I promise you we will spend my birthday together, next year. It is his birthday or a national public holiday. No matter how much time and effort you spend in literally begging or convincing him to spend the day with you, you will be greeted with negativity. In the end, one of two things will happen. First, there is some half-baked excuse about being so tired from all the work he has been doing that he needs to use this holiday to rest. Two, when he does spend time with you, he spends all day looking at his phone or is in such a horrifying mood that even if one sets about doing cartwheels to please him, it just won’t work.