The Friday Exhaustion

The Friday exhaustion is real,

Somewhere in the middle of a ranting call, I heard myself squeal,

And completely broke down over the loss of my husband,

The grief shook me, I assumed I was already accustomed,

Who knew, a tiring week,

Would make me feel so weak,

I was drained,

And relieved,

For letting out a hysterical sob,

I could feel the violent throb,

Inside my brain and heart,

Those feelings never rest,

It hits you waves,

And clogs your breathing and airwaves,

Perhaps I should rest,

But this elephant sized memory that I have, makes me feel both cursed and blessed,

The Friday exhaustion is real,

And it's only human to let out an occasional squeal. 

Whoopsie Wednesdays

Got bitten by an ant this morning,

Accidentally broke a glass bottle without warning,

The brain's a ball of mush today,

Just the same as yesterday 

I struggle to put one word in front of the other,

My edits, a failed attempt to smother,

The key message, 

Splat in the middle of every tumbling paragraph, like a stubborn carriage,

Perhaps I am done,

I stop typing so maniacally, my fingers exhausted from being a rabid gun,

I munch on a giant Toblerone bar,

Trying to erase invisible scars,

A shitty day can always be turned around,

Simply by looking around,

Exhausting Wednesdays,

In our heads we dramatically convert them to doomsdays.

Drunk Awakenings

As I down one sugary glass of alcohol after another,

The face of my late love begins to appear, without too much of a bother,

I truly believe,

Alcohol has the ability to weave,

Reality with fiction,

I suddenly begin to natter without restriction,

Let me correct, natter more,

Perhaps I become a bore,

In my most drunk state,

I feel great,

On top of the world even,

While the floor beneath my feet feels uneven,

I cannot be trusted with alcohol,

My body gets into a slow crawl,

My brain's contents further enhanced,

I become entranced,

With everything and nothing,

I find myself constantly chuckling,

High my spirits,

Along with the alcoholic spirits,

Cheers!

Brothers

This bonding of brothers,

Is like no other,

They scream and fight,

With all their might,

When it's time to bid adieu,

Their hearts turn blue,

Sobbings eyes and hysterical chests,

Their minds are far from rest,

The love they have for one another,

Is like no other,

All you can do is stand by and watch,

Witnessing their love for one another go up every year by a notch,

How wonderful that they have one another,

This beautiful bond of brothers,

Bonded by blood,

Our family's three little studs.

The Juggle is Real

I'm not sure what is worse, being a single parent during Parent Teacher Meetings and Annual Day functions or knowing that even if my husband was alive, he wouldn't have taken an interest in attending any of these school do's.

For the most part, I don't feel the pinch of taking on the burden of a dead husband. This is all thanks to my supportive family, who try their best to show up for all these events along with me.

So while I witness full families in all their grandeur, for such programs, I'm still thankful for my mother or an occasional generous friend, who takes the burden off me for collecting uniforms, school books and attending school events with me.

It's hard, having to be two people at the same time, at two different places. I have to completely let go of work, while I'm trying to fulfill my motherly duties and I have to completely forgo my child, while I'm focusing at work.

My brain works on overdrive on most days, trying to make sure nothing slips off the list. Project submissions at work, buying gifts for birthday parties, shutting between tuition classes and work calls, the list is neverending and exhausting.

It's ironic how we're expected to build careers and raise our children at the same time. Every generation and the ones before us have done it and I look back at each one of them in awe.

The burnout is real, which is why I take to oversweetened cocktails and liquor shots every once in a while. To everyone going through this juggle, let's survive and thrive. Cheers! 

The Youngest and The Loudest

Growing up with three much older siblings, I was almost always left out from kiddie games, conversations and even card games well into my 20s. It hurt, the negligence and the neglect. But I'm just being dramatic now.

The plus side of being the youngest, was always being showered with gadgets, chocolates and clothes, much before it hit Indian shores. 

I grew up loud and attention seeking, partly because I was always left out and partly because I'm probably a little bit of a drama queen. But which woman isn't?

I spent a glorious 4 days off with my cousins in Trivandrum last week and came to realise, these men and women, along with their spouses know how to pamper me shitless.

My sweet older sister who knows absolutely nothing about superheroes, discovered a superhero store in Lulu Mall, Trivandrum. She proceeded to wake me up in the middle of my afternoon slumber and video called me to show me all the bobble heads around her. Our conversation went like this, "Gayu, do you like this little warrior lady?" 

"I already have Wonder Woman, show me someone else", I replied. "What about this masked man with an A?", she persisted. "I don't want Captain America. Do they have Spiderman hanging upside down?" I enquired. And our conversation went on like this for about a solid 5 minutes, until I zoned in on a handsome Deadpool figurine.

The next morning I was all set to catch my flight back to Chennai. I dressed up my 6 year old in a Transformers tshirt which my brother had picked up for him.

"Thanks for the wonderful Transformers tee for Riaan Swaroop chetta", I told my brother. "You're welcome. I remembered that he had Transformer toys at home", he replied. "Those toys are mine", I answered with a Cheshire cat grin.

He chuckled for a good 2 minutes and promised to buy me a Batman figurine which he had seen in the Chennai airport.

My siblings and their spouses have a special place in my heart. They've seen me in my diapers, they've seen me getting my first job, they've seen me falling in love, they've witnessed me breaking down completely 3.7 years ago and through it all they have stood by me with chocolates and toys, always handy.

What a blessing to have so many siblings and now their spouses, whom I get to call my own. What a pleasure it is to be the youngest born. 

Post Swim Blues

A mighty fall has been had,

On my butt I fell after a glorious swim, it was bad,

I felt on top of the world,

Until I found myself hurled, 

A slip of the feet,

Jute hotel slippers on wet concrete, it was quite a feat,

To have been a graceful swan one minute,

And a waddling injured duck the next, all under a minute,

I held my bum in pain,

With my left palm, which also felt sprained,

As I crawled back to my room,

I felt a sense of gloom,

I bumped into my tiny human,

Who was flanked on both side by my parents, like crewmen,

I cribbed about my mighty fall,

To them all,

Hopefully the rest of the day will be uneventful,

I'm ready to devour the scrumptious local cuisine in huge mouthfulls.

Love In A Single Frame

Love in a single frame,

All my favourite food in big fat portions, despite the pouring rain,

Thatukada chicken, naadan chilli chicken, palada payasam and mutta puffs, all under one roof,

This is proof,

That food is love and love is food,

An instant brightener of moods,

A quick trip down memory lane,

The days when life felt more sane,

No responsibilities,

A childhood filled with endless possibilities,

All revolving around games and food,

Life was simple and good,

We relive those simple days,

Through various ways,

Gobbling down food we grew up on,

Until one of us stifles a yawn,

Is one of those ways,

I can't wait for tommorow's rays,

To continue gobbling down to my heart's content.