Noconvolutions!

It happened in broad day light at 8:30 am when I took the BMTC bus to office cursing myself deeply for missing my office bus.I was horrified at first,thinking by what name should I call them with.Vampires,blood-suckers…they appeared so pregnant with blood in their translucent stomachs.I got scared thinking if I would get down the bus with a cubic cm of blood in my body.They never missed a chance to protrude into every little uncovered part of my body,pouncing on me like they were possessed by a century-starved man-eater’s dirty soul.

Bloody Mosquitoes.

“When I said I like missing you…

Did I mean I want to be away from you? “

—Anonymous isn’t me

I hate my name.
I didn’t start hating my name as an aftermath of reading the book but instead I read the book because I hate my name.The name that I’ve adorned since 24 long years with the vehement shame of being called by it everyday,was given to me as a last wish of my maternal grandfather.I wonder how my grandfather would have felt if he were alive to find out how much I detest what he gave me out of affection.I consider it as an act of everything else ,but affection.He christened me with this name with a belief that I would be a winner of the world some day or was already born a winner of the world[that’s what my name means in my mother-tongue : winner of the world] but he should’ve also taken the pain of running his hands through an English Dictionary to find out the meaning of our surname.It means voluntary defeat.Perhaps,it was too late for that.

My surname has yielded a greater impact on me than my name.I feel like a loser each time I’m called by it.Each time someone calls me by that name,I feel disparaged,ridiculed,humiliated by the sound of it.Even more,when the name gets pronounced in a manner as if the last alphabet “a” has gone to take a dump,making it sound like that of a male’s name.

I insisted on my father to get my name changed to something shorter and sweeter that suited the person that I am but I was blatantly denied with brutal emotional blackmail.So I’m still living with it or more precisely dying with it,ashamed of it.My family is unaware of the abhorrence.The only reason why I would give in to my mother’s perpetual nagging me to be married is so that I can get my name changed to something better and worthy without much legal hassles.But that woould take an expensive toll on me to be married at this point of my life for the sake of a name.

What I’m going to write next might get branded as thought crime by some of my orthodox but self-proclaimed modern friends while some might feel ashamed of having known me.Nonetheless I shall express because I won’t stop thinking.My thoughts are completely irrelevant from the point of a review of this book.The author was definitely thought-provoking though.

However,I shall write about it in the next post as an advice from one of my friends that I should keep my posts short enough so that he doesn’t become a beggar of patience after reading about my nothings.I wonder why he still reads them!

“It’s horrifying to figure out how it would’ve been if I weren’t born…

I got scared when I found out that nothing would’ve mattered much…”

–Anonymous isn’t me