A harried week, a horrid weekend

Before I type anything else let me affirm that while deciding to create a blog or even while creating it, I never intended to share events which I find are purely personal or close to me as an individual; incidences to which people other than me cannot relate. 

But this one, I might add, I feel is an exception to all rules.

Last Saturday was the worst day of my life. The week following that was the worst week of my life.

That I’m saying this in as straightforward a language as I can summon at this moment and that I haven’t tried to use fancy English vocabulary in saying so is clear proof that I’m in no sense of the word lying or manipulating facts to create a rosier or in this case a darker picture in the readers mind.

It was the week where I saw my mum being admitted to the hospital; it was a week when I realized that I don’t like to see my father in any sort of tension or apprehension (purely because he’s a jolly good fellow); it was a week was when I realized that I can actually get frustrated on petty things unlike what I used to think about myself in the past . . . . . . .  could compete with J.R.R. Tolkien if I wished to continue the list.

It was Saturday: I stood there, not knowing what to do, on my mum’s bedside watching her writhing in pain as the effect of the local anesthetic given to her during the surgery was slowly wearing off. I was aware that the pangs were impermanent. I already knew that she’d be alright within days. But it made me lose my mind nonetheless. 

If I were to be granted even one of the three wishes that Genies keep wasting on white skinned fake paupers in stupid little fairy tales that are then remade into big budget movies, I’d definitely wish that I never face such a scene again, ever in my life.

Mums alright now, sitting right behind me doing her chores as if nothings happened (that’s what I’ve gotten used to seeing since childhood: her unending energy and her zeal totally concentrated towards making me chubbier and rounder in shape, although I don’t share her enthusiasm in doing that anymore).

Well there’s a positive to every negative. I did face a lot of the latter. But on the brighter side, after all that happened, at least I am aware now that I do house emotions in me!