Killing yourself steadily

Nobody likes change. A new haircut, new curtains, new pet, new boyfriend – everything amounts to change. I just finished my twelfth and am new here. Every day I wake up to think everyone but me is a total freak, and every night I go to bed a little more like each one of them.

New beginnings are difficult. As excited as we are to start over, we all love our own cocoon. Our space. Our friends. People often complain their partners are possessive, insecure, may be even border line psychotic. But I think, we are all most possessive about ourselves. Just something to think about.

Let’s talk about my slow death manual.

I woke up on the third day of my new course telling myself today will be a better day. Today was the day of an over-sized sweater, ripped jeans and sneakers. There’s this thing most girls do. If we care about an occasion, we dress like we are going to a red carpet event. If we don’t, we’ll look like homeless drug addicts. Evidently, I was leaning towards the homeless. On my way to class, I noticed a couple making out on the staircase corner. Before they thought I was a creep, I looked away. I felt sorry for them because I knew the lengths people can go to get some attention and not feel lonely in an under grad course. The first class that day was about the history of processors and Indian lady teachers, never move more than two feet away from the board. The professor taught herself about processors because nobody seemed to give a damn. I felt bad for her and made a self-note to never teach teenagers. More such classes just made us more desperate and the slow day came to an end. I felt like I had aged ten years. It was time to go home and five rickshaw-waalas ambushed me and argued to decide whose rickshaw I would take a ride in. I always over pay these guys, mostly because I know they have a family to support and I will waste the extra ten bucks on a soda anyway. The driver gave me that doe eyed look when I asked him to keep the change and I felt even more depressed than I did all day.

I wanted to walk up to that couple, my professor,and the rickshaw guy and tell them how to live their lives. I knew my conclusions were right but I didn’t know how to make them see.My restlessness was getting the better of me and I decided to sleep over it. I was in that semi-conscious sleep state when my aunt pinged me with a video of my five-year old niece head banging to a Metallica song. It was a two-minute long video and my niece clearly didn’t care. She didn’t care her mother was recording. She wouldn’t have cared if her tiny head fell off.

That was all that it took. I know it seems totally unrelated. But when you spend an entire day judging everyone around, you are basically killing yourself steadily, aren’t you?

People don’t care about your judgments. Only you do.

“I went to bed lost in thought and the next day on, I was more of the red carpet kinda girl. “

The end.

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