All my life I've been on the go. The longest I'd ever called a place "Home" was about 3 years. Lately, 2 weeks. As of today, 24 hours.
What's the meaning of life, I wondered. Today I feel the raw emotions of what thousands of Maldivians feel every day. Something as basic as having the satisfaction of clean water flowing onto my face when I twist the shower faucet... something as fundamental as that.
I sighed, thought about the picture in a National Geographic magazine, which shows children bathing in polluted river waters of Phnom Penh, one silent prayer for my skin, let well water wash away the caked dirt of two days.
Life, I thought, couldn't be any worse. I'm paid well, yet I've got to suffer because I'm not paid enough. If this is me, then what hope's there for the thousands of men, women and adolescents out there, having to share the meagre facilities?
What about those Internally Displaced Persons, still living in shelters?
Even when I work for their emancipation from slavery to hardship, I still am stunned when it comes to actual experience. It broke my spirit, for sure.
How spirit-breaking can it be for those who have no other place to go, nothing else they can do? How can they not give up hope, let it take flight and touch down on Azores, never to be seen ever again? How can they not leave their stuffy houses behind and roam the streets, cigarette in hand and a can of coke in the other?
I left that new place where I live and came into the office complex, to free up my mind. I don't think I'd be able to go to work on Sunday, not because I don't feel like it, but only because I don't have anymore clean clothes except the jeans, the black and white paisley boxers and the dark blue t-shirt I'm wearing.
My life is in shreds, but there's something I can do about it: Shut up and not talk, because there's really no one who's going to bother. Who is, after all, thinking about the kids who give their hopes and dreams up and start chain smoking so that they'd die early? Why do people bother about the junkies who get addicted and let go of reality? What hope is there really?
Is hope real, is also a question.
We must go on. I must. I don't know why, but I can't stop living just because my bathroom is only a notch above a chamber pot and a pipe of well water.
It really is frustrating, because I am someone who loves to take long showers, be extremely clean and smell good.
I mentoned to my dear father by the way, (as a footnote) that I'd had to leave my older apartment because the landlord swindled me. He told me he'd help me find a new place, and he didn't. Now that I've found a new "place", I don't think I should mention I've been had.
Or he'd think he'd sired a defective...
- I'm at:UN Building
- and feeling like:frustrated
- while istening to:The hiss of the A/C and the humidifier.
Nope. I've been in a mild manic state for about 4 days, the last three of which I haven't got any sleep. The first two were okay; I even wrote a lot of stuff. Today I feel like as if I'm full of caffeine and the clock's stuck at 3 am.
I've tried to make myself tired... went jogging a couple of times. Well I jogged none stop for 30 minutes (a record for me, who can't jog for more than 5 minutes continuously) and ran out of breath, hurt my back, but didn't get tired.
I feel zombified. At first I thought I am turning into a vampire: I've gone extremely pale, sitting inside a darkened room for two weeks. I haven't applied for jobs lately because I am feeling weakened and let down by the whole system.
All I've been doing lately is sit in the room, trying to read a book, practise guitar or anything, anything really, that can hold my attention. The feeling of being here, now... Augh.
Or maybe it just means that I've attained Nirvana.
In the last month, things had been getting steadily worse. My family had been flexing every muscle, trying to live my life for me. When I said I felt breathless, they thought that I was blowing things out of proportion. Yes, I do spend a disproportionate amount of time out with friends, which was their main complaint. When you consider the fact that I do not really enjoy the company of my relatives, things become clearer.
I do love my family and my relatives. I adore every single one of them. Although flattering, I do find their prurient intrusion into what I consider to be my life quite unsettling and downright insulting. The fact that they doubt my judgment does offend my intelligence.
And then the aggressive arguments leading to physical contact exacerbated certain unresolved issues within me, causing the resurrection of dormant anxiety disorders that I had suppressed a couple of years ago. That led to me blacking out a couple of times as blind and illogical panic floods every particle of my mind and body and shuts down everything and anything related to common sense.
In the strictest reality though, it was their tight embrace that was literally squeezing the breath out of me.
In the midst of all this, I had decided to throw in the towel at work as well, as I had finally realized that I had wasted my life in an uncontrolled and subconscious endeavor to conform to traditional norms that required me to live my life out working at a boring desk job till suddenly one day I find myself old and wrinkled. Like an apple left on the shelf far too long.
One of the refrains that my family had been admonishing me with was not to get a job beneath my dignity. How peculiar. I remember hearing on the television in the last Ramadan, in a religious show, that all jobs are equal, and no man is to be discriminated according to the job that he does.
Dignity is something that comes from within. Respect is something that we earn. People at work never think that I am a serious or dignified person. Really, if people were a bit more original and frank, I am sure we all would save a lot of time in the long run when we don’t have to make amends for all the obscurity we like to draw about ourselves like a cloak.
I consider myself to be a bit whimsical most of the time. It’s not altogether appropriate when I deal with my family though. In the twenty two and half years that they have known me, they have never understood my nature nor have they ever tried, but still expected me to learn their own. That’s a reason for all the strife within my family. I do not like to formalize my behavior with them because I love them. They do not believe that I have a right to be myself.
I spoke about respect. In spite of all the whimsy things I say and do, I find my colleagues respecting me and caring for me in ways that I could only begin to imagine. I think I have earned their respect by standing up for what I believe is… life.
And then, I decided to move out, right after consulting with my psychiatrist to get emergency medication for panic attacks and his advice. So far, I used only one of the 18 pills I have, and that too, for the night that I packed up and left. A lot of people were surprised tat I, being a sensitive and loving person, actually did something as heartless as that without shedding a single tear drop. I would have had a full blown anxiety attack if I hadn’t taken that pill, but I wouldn’t have cried. You see, by then I had had enough and then some, of everything.
I remember speaking to my sister-in-law last night. She was incredulous that I, of all the people, had taken such an extreme decision. That just shows how much she doesn’t know about me. I told her that no one really knows my nature. I am a very selfish person when it comes to loving. I am extremely generous when it comes to loving people. Unfortunately, I demand that everyone love me back in the exact same amount as I do love them.
And they don’t. It’s a shame, when they don’t love, but pretend to. Pretend love is so different from real love. When you pretend to love someone, you hold them closer to you, and become obsessively possessive. You might not know that you’re doing it… that’s the only defense I can give to you. An indicator of possessive love is jealousy. If you feel jealous or angry with a person because that person goes out with other people, you can be pretty sure that you don’t really love someone.
Well, that isn’t love… the other person doesn’t feel loved, but feels stifled and suffocated with it. That person will try to get away from you. When anyone tells you that they need space, you do not love them. You’re hurting them.
When you really love someone, you let go of them. If they do love you, they’ll never go away, but will be with you. Sort of like birds. If you love a bird and take care of it, you won’t need a cage. That’s how I love people. But what I get is something that I never wanted and never will. If I seek to be dominated, I would become a slave. I don’t seek to become a piece of furniture.
So here I am, living on my own. I love it here. I love the family I live with. They do not seek to possess me, for one thing. But they do care for my well-being, something that my family couldn’t learn to do. What a crying shame.
It would be wonderful if they tried to understand that I do love them, but I too, need space… I don’t want to be dominated, nor do I seek approval from them for anything that I do. I just want to be loved by them and respected by them for who I am, and what I do.
Just think about your own shortcomings as a parent, before trying to shift blame on others.
- Code: :moving on
- I'm at:Sea House Café
- and feeling like:thoughtful
- while istening to:Ambient sounds... the sea, chatter...
Hi guys, Meem here.
Thanks, Julia, and Chris, it's wonderful to know you guys are there, I miss you all a lot. Julia, I hope you got my voicemail I left on your phone, I knew it was Shabbos, so you couldn't answer. :-)
I've quite a lot to tell you all. First off, the evening of my previous post I discovered that I had a virus on my laptop. It wasn't a big deal, I was about to do a System Restore of my good old Windows XP and found out that the virus had erased all my restore points. So I took the infected piece of equipment (which was formerly my Love) to a friend of mine, who told me that he was going to "Repair" the XP on my system, and instructed me to insert a copy of the XP cd he had and reboot my system.
Now, I have reinstalled Windows XP quite a few hundred times and I took it upon me to hurry things up as I had a meeting with a very important person (to me, back then.) So, I pressed a couple of keys after reading the instructions on my screen, a yellow colored progress bar comes up and sweeps across the blue colored setup screen, and then I read the following words.
"YOU NOW HAVE 78.54 GB OF SPACE ON C:\"
I thought, hmm, wait... I have an 80Gb hard drive, so that means...
I blacked out for a few moments. I also spent the next whole week without doing any work on my book, or rather, notebook, except trying to recover all the thousands of MP3 and Pictures, and of course, the work of a lifetime, the two book projects. In the defense of my gross stupidity in erasing my hard drive, I have to say that my friend gave me an OEM version of XP which didn't have the repair function.
Eventually I regained all of the MP3 and three quarters of my pictures and a couple of versions of my books using a disk recovery tool. I would have recovered all of those fragments of files one would accumulate over a lifetime spent logged into some form of Windows from 98SE to XP, except that I didn't have the time to collect all those miscellaneous virtual bric-a-brac.
In the span of two weeks since I last posted here, though, I have to tell you that my life has changed tremendously, not in the sudden and swift way one would think, but gently, almost imperceptibly. It's strange, almost like a page out of someone else's life when I read the hundreds, maybe thousands of melancholium.livejournal posts I've made over the last two and half years.
It's strange, to relive my entire life while I actually compose the final draft of that which has taken my imagination for so long. To dream and to realize that dream... it is two entirely different vistas, no?
Speaking of which, I now use Windows Vista on my system. It's of course, full of those shiny bells and whistles it had been advertised with. Better than a Mac, to those who think MS had copied Mac.
- I'm at:Work
- while istening to:Ehsaas - Athif Aslam
I miss you. So much. I wish I could convey the depth of feeling and emotion, but lately my writing skills have been on the hold. I am barely posting anywhere.
I've been juggling too many balls lately, what with extreme stress at work, my mother going psychotic and my brothers in denial. The only stable stones in my entire life were LiveJournal.com, Mubeen and my sister-in-law. I cannot say that my flist has failed me, I cannot say that because I have withdrawn from even checking livejournal.com because of the lack of any feedback.
But I do consider that my family and my friends have indeed, failed me when I needed them the most, considering the fact that I really loved them. Loved. I deliberately left that in the past tense, because I cannot claim I have any feeling that can be associated with Love, for them, since they decide to judge me with blind prejudice and familiarity bred from taking me for granted.
In any case, in the future, I yearn to love them all once again. I have learnt to love indiscriminately, though, over the last three weeks. I have also learnt to forgive people no matter what, and to be non-judgmental. This is aimed at myself, though. I need the peace-of-mind associated with setting my anger and sadness free.
It is hard, and I fail myself at times too, but I pick myself and start running again without a single moment of hesitation. I am free from regret because now, I ask people to forgive me if I feel I am being too harsh on them.
I am in love too. I suppose that explains my new outlook on life. But then, love is love, and I am being loved by someone whom I love. It feels so good that sometimes I feel like I am about to burst with the exhilarating feeling of being so truly alive.
It probably is the only thing that is enabling me to forgive my mother for the mental torture she inflicts upon me.
And, by the way, I have been invited to write for the national newspaper here in the Maldives. It's wonderful, and I'm very happy. Unfortunately, the only three people I thought that would be most excited and happy for me, gave me such a lukewarm response that I wondered if I said it wrong.
Above all, I am also writing the final draft of my book. Finally.
It takes a lot of energy to be me, and I am trying my hardest to cope with it all, while trying to make sense of my life and everything and everyone associated with it.
So, till my book gets published, melancholium.livejournal is on hiatus.
"True independence isn't when you're not afraid to think. True independence is when you're not afraid of what others think." ~ Meem
I think that has to be the aegis of melancholium.livejournal for as long as I have written in it. Probably is, for all the journals I have written and write.
I celebrate the Independence Day of the Republic of Maldives in my own quiet way, silently, within my heart, knowing that I am of the new generation that is not afraid to have an open mind, but also has a clear cut definition of governing principles inside that assists in the formation of logical opinions.
I celebrate today, quietly, inside my heart, as the day I move forward with my life with a purpose and direction.
Happy Independence Day.
- I'm at:Work
- and feeling like:determined
I've looked for the lyrics to this song high and low, and finally found it.
The original page can be found here.
Wakatte-ita hazu (I Should Have Known)
Sung by: Satou Akemi
Lyrics: Satou Akemi
Composition: Kiyo'oka Chiho
Arrangement: Tsuchiya Manabu
koibito-tachi no waraigoe
mune wo shimetsukeru
shuumatsu no gogo na no ni
watashi hitori machi wo aruku
itai no ni
sonna koto wakatte-ita hazu
suki ni nareba natta dake
setsunai ne wakatte-iru no ni
omotte-iru anata dake wo
aenai toki mo
donna toki mo
issho ni ite hoshii nante
omoccha ikenai to
watashi no kokoro no koe
tomerarezu ni ima mo afure
watashi ni wa wakatte-ita hazu
demo ima wa taisetsu na omoi
watashi dake ga mieru hontou
watashi ni wa wakatte-ita hazu
demo ima wa taisetsu na omoi
watashi dake ga mieru hontou 
The laughing voices
of lovers passing by
makes me get all choked up.
Even though the rain has stopped
on this weekend afternoon,
I'm walking the streets all alone,
I want to be with you.
I should have known this.
If I fell in love with you that much,
I would hurt just as much.
Even though I know it's heart-wrenching,
I keep thinking only of you,
I can't see you.
I know I shouldn't think about
how I wish we could always be together,
even now, the voice of my heart,
which I've tried to suppress,
seems to overflow
so much so that it hurts.
I should have known.
I just can't keep my love for you
inside, all to myself.
But now, it's a precious thought.
I believe in the truth
only I see,
and keep on loving you.
I should have known.
I just can't keep my love for you
inside, all to myself.
* * *
Yeah it's very soppy and romantic. I know.
- Code: :lyrics
- I'm at:Work
- and feeling like:sad
- while istening to:The song above