Last night, 2 weeks after my dad left, he finally called to speak with me.
I feel like I have been on a permanent roller coaster ride called PMS this whole summer. Especially when you factor my dad into the equation. This is because I am very close to my dad, as you must have figured out by now. He just has to pat my head lovingly and all my madness is forgotten. At the airport, there was a long line-up, and he thought he was going to get delayed, so we rushed to the gates, and I saw him off. This time he just hugged me and quickly left. No pat on my head. He just left, and I hadn't spoken to him since.
My mum calls every other day. Everytime I spoke to my mum, she'd say he was busy. I didn't have the heart to ask to speak to him directly. I just couldn't.
You know how everyone tells you that you should tell someone how you feel, especially your parents, how much you love them and appreciate them, when they're still with you... before its too late? Yeah, no, I didnt do that. Like a true dolt with her head stuck in her ass, I just told myself that he's too pissed at me, and he really doesn't want to talk to me, so I'm better off giving him his space.
Then every few nights, when waves of emotions would sweep over me, along with this annoyance called PMS accompanied by guilt-trips where I have accumulated a million frequent flyer miles, I would cry in my pillow. For NO reason. Well, no. I would just cry because I missed my dad. Why won't my dad speak to me? I missed him.
I missed waking up EVERY morning to that shrilling phone call from Dubai when my mum called my dad to talk to him. They'd talk for hours. My gawd, 3 decades and STILL for hours! I missed our fights and squabbles, sometimes it was about dumb things like how I wasn't eating and how you could pour water in my scapula and it would just stay (I wish!). Sometimes it was really retarded like how I needed to know how to work the air-conditioning (Its central, way too many buttons!) or clean my room (whats new). There was the usual shit like"What are you doing with your life in Canada, there are no boys or jobs here". Sometimes there were innovative arguments like how to cook edamame or how I needed to cook more instead of living off canned tuna. Sometimes we'd gossip about how this auntiji who had proposed for me is now stuck with a horrible daughter-in-law. Yeah, father-daughter bonding, good stuff. I would think about this stuff and be really grateful that I was there, but at the same time acknowledge that it drove me a bit batty, and at the same time kick myself for fighting back. Guilt-trip, much? Yeah, Ive racked up enough points for a trip to Seychelles by now.
And then because I'm a girl, and I have nothing better to do, and its night and all and the curtains are closed, and no one can hear me because I sleep on the top floor and my brother sleeps in the basement 2 levels down, and since I was in the mood for crying because you might as well cry since that's one way to let go of your pent-up sadness, and since I wasn't in the mood for blogging depresso shit because my readers are sick of it by now, and since well... Cry me a fuckin' river, I cried. It was just the thing to do. Crying helps buckets, it helps you sleep. Everyone should cry once in a while. Not only do you wake up the next morning wondering why your pillow smells funny (drool + tears - not good combo), but you wake up with a renewed perspective that you can get along with the rest of your day, because lets face it..... you are done! You are done crying, and its the only logical step after to move on.
That, my friends, is one aspect of the circle of life.
There's also got to be something in the water, I'm telling you.
Yes, yes, ok, I admit, my posts have veered on angst, sadness lately..... the whole shebang. Yuck. I'm sorry. I hate that. I know I know you prefer happy angry posts, better than sad angry posts. So do I! It's bad enough my parents fail to be happy happy joy joy when I tell them to cheer up, and then I come here and I do the SAME! I guess the fruit doesn't fall far from the tree! Or in this case, fruitcake! Haha!
(BTW, does my haha annoy you? Im constantly reminded of Nelson from The Simpsons when I do that, but you must remember that if you met me, my hahahahahhaas are more like giggles...cuz Im a girl).
Aaaaaaaaaaaanyways. So I finally spoke to my dad. And of course I let him have it. I'd been dying to speak with him for the last 2 weeks, but nooooooooooooooooo, he's always busy out or sleeping or eating and I didn't take care of him for the summer so he could run off and disappear like every dickhead I know (I only told him the part till eating).
I think my dad is also going through PMS because with a teary voice he goes, "Oh I didn't want to you bug you again, I feel like I've bugged you all summer, I figured you needed a break".
At this time, its a cue to remember of ANY old school Bollywood movie where a very young strappy Amitabh Bachchan is reunited with his long-lost brother/ mother/ father/ twin brother Vijay or Ajay/ a dog called Moti/ an elephant called Heera/ a horse called Badal/ his girlfriend Chandni at 6 years old who still pines for him because she still keeps his old black and white photograph ...... or any other token that represents Le Labour of Familial Love because.... this is how it was.
This, ladies and gents, is how my life is. An overflowing river of love, sprinkled with evermore sappy cheesy love. My life is filled with love. Everybody loves me (except when I leave my phone at home all day only to come home to notice that there are NO text or missed calls!!!!! grrrrrrrrr!). I also have a whole lotta loooooooove to give. It's stupid sometimes. The best way that I show my love is when I cry about love, when I lack love, and when I feel I'm not delivering enough love.
I'm may be angry at times, but I'm not really that dark, that angry. Sometime I may be a bit antsy, and you may decipher it as angst... thats how it comes across in the blog anyways, right?
Thanks for your concern, and yes, I had been....... I'm going to use the A word here, ugh... I had been Angry. Fine! I'll say it. But once I'm done angry, I just proceed to the C word. Thats just how I am. It's all smooth sailing since. I'm A-OK!
I'm just a true blue, passionate Libra - I am such an emotional basket-case. I am in love with the idea of love ........for the people that I'm close to, for the people that touch my life, for the people that let me into theirs.... I get so carried away for such people that the best way I feel I give value to them is when they've given me a reason to feel passionate for them, when they've given me a reason to be angry about certain things, when they've given me a reason to question things, when they've given me a reason to express my emotions... when they've given me a reason to cry for them.
Just like how my dad has, for all of the above.
So you see? I hate to quote this but "Don't cry for me, Argentiiiiiiinaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa"..... lol
Isheeta Is:
Angry? Yes. Emotional? Yes. Need help? Possibly.
Regrets? Not at all.
