My Fear

It has been ages since I wrote; and never before about my frights. I mean, internet (a.k.a social network) is not the place to reveal your insecurities. Though being in a secure, loving family; married to the most trust worthy guy I’ve ever known, having life-long male friends, etc my fears of being mishandled has not reduced. As I grew older, my fears have only increased.

The wounds caused by few incidents in the by-gone days and experiences shared by my girlfriends were deep. They have definitely healed but the ugly scars still remains.  Every time, I repeat, every single time I see a stranger talking to a young kid (could be a stranger to me, again), I panic. There is this sensation of profuse sweating and breathlessness, only that no one can see it. I am imagining things I am not supposed to.  The logical sense in me knows that not all are some evil molesters trying to take over anyone falling in their eye sight. But the sensitive being in me keeps rining the warning bells.

One of my friends vouches that there would not be a single woman who had not been groped at least once in her life time. Is it true? Would my mom, aunt, granny, and my best friend too have gone through this? Is it alright to take it as part of life and move on? It scares me more. If they faced it, how are they OK? I am never OK. People who are acquainted with me know me as an extrovert. I am not. My big smile, being talkative, maintaining eye-contact, is my ways of hiding my insecurity. Those are my hopes that I do not send the wrong signal to the other person – be it a woman or a man. I strongly believe and know that wrongdoers are not gender specific. I also know that looks are deceiving.

I had been to a friend’s place over the weekend. My friend asked her 11yr old daughter to run up to another neighbor’s house to convey/ get something. I panicked. I so know that she and the neighbor are like BFF. I suddenly became chippy and told her to go herself or call her up over the phone. Before my friend could sense the tension in my voice, I started talking about something else. I did not want them to know. What if they judge me crazy? At the same time, I wanted them to know and wanted them to be extra precautions.

I have no clue where this would take me to. I live with my fears and also live each day with the joys it brings. I am being a very cautious parent now. The day I knew I am to be a mom soon, I vowed to educate my child to be aware of people around him, to be intuitive, to be courageous and most of to treat every other human with respect. To Live and let live, in peace.

The existence of forgetting has never been proved: We only know that some things don't come to mind when we want them

For the sense of smell, almost more than any other, has the power to recall memories and it is a pity that you use it so little.

Today morning, while I was on my way to work... I felt some old memories spring up for no reason at all. It took me back to the Ganesha temple near my childhood home. I visualized myself go around the temple.

Then bang.. it hit me why I remembered that place. It was this not so common sweet fragrance that floated in the early breeze of polluted Bengaluru. The melodious aroma of the flowers that used to grown in the temple. I don't know the name of it.. a tiny white flower with orange stalk. This plant was behind the temple and a garland made of this flower ever adorned the deity there.

As usual, this event made me think of many other trivial things that remind us of things we do not give time to think about.

Every time it starts to rain, I look up to see the drops fall between the branches and I get relocated to Bandipur National Forest where one of our teams outing was. And that leads me to have a fast forward view of many other good memories I've had when it rained, like the first time I had to eat ice cream when it rained and how I fell in love with it and made it a habit to yearn for ice creams when it rained heavily.

Just on another hot day, the zephyr took up a role of a mild wind and started a small whirlpool of dry sand and with it all the tiny things on the ground. This brought back memories of my early exploring days in my dad's village.

A good smelling barotta ( thats how the layered paratta is called in my place) takes me instantly to the small food stall near my school. Believe me.. even time I've yummy barottas, I remember the days when dad used to cheer me up by getting it from that shop.

A cool frenzied breeze hits my hair and I recall a beautiful evening in the Injambaakam beach behind the Sai temple. A rounded pebble or shell makes me get into the time machine & travel to either Rameshwaram or Kanyakumari. Any chocolate wrapper brings back the days when there was promotional offers of bring back 5 wrapper and take one candy free or making characters out of the wrappers by folding it in fans and placing a knot in the middle. Looking at the full moon brings back a a smile as I remember how I told a long lost friend that I wanted him to see the moon while I was talking to him over phone, telling how though miles apart we still saw things the same way, etc etc.

I can't claim that I only recollect only sweet incidents. Sometimes those bitter emotions of the past come up to the throat like bile. Life is but a two sided coin that adds value to the journey called 'existence'.

OK... thats it for now. I don't want to keep elaborating more on this. If this article helped you remember tiny such things that trigger long forgotten memories, I'd feel honored for that and very happy if you leave a piece of that memory in the 'Thoughts Expressed' option below.