Confessions of a sociopathic prim a donna....( my tribute inspired by The Confessions of sociopathic social climber' aka Katya Livingston)

I confess I have sinned and with this note I absolve myself of all the crimes I may have committed in the name of seeking attention just to satisfy my never to deflate ego. I cannot remember or I may have conveniently forgotten how this addiction of mine came to be or from which ground it took root. I just know that the minute my acquired minions begin to disperse and start to lose interest I rear out my sharp talons of contempt and begin my onslaught when they least expect it to. This confession is my way of catharsis so I can spew out the venomous thoughts that plague me with their tentacles compelling me to cause harm the only way I know,verbally! Hell I should've been in show business where i could sweet talk my way through any situation and attack my enemy when they least expect them to.
Even a calculative Prim a Donna like me (though I've never mastered a step of ballet in my life, hey I need toes to be able to fit into my Blahniks)needs her space to vent so I can start my day anew.
I am ardently guilty of being so self absorbed that any form of criticism feels like a jab at my personality. What I really need to hear day in and day out are praises of my big-bigheartedness, my kindness,the wit and the elegance of my ways. Anyone who fails to deliver on those terms will be on my social hit-list.
Ah! Now I remember how my journey began. See, I do have a memory for anything that involves self-glorification and me, me,me!
I came into this tepid life a newly married woman with a new lease and a fresh start. The husband was just a simpleton completely enamored by my youth and beguiling ways. As a single girl I never had the opportunity to venture too freely outside of my father's strict rule. But as a married woman with a puppy dog for a husband who worshiped the ground I walked upon I had a trump card and more than my share of wealth to spend as I chose compared to the other housewives i encountered in my early days of wifedom. Hell! I did not even have to earn a living ever till the day I would breath the last.( Like that day would ever come.I'm 24 and invincible as the Goddess Hera herself!)
The first victim to fall into my labyrinthine trap of sycophancy was Tiara,the very young impressionable child-wife of a colleague of my husbands. It was easy to tag her with gifts galore and regaling tales of my glamorous life before I gave it all up for a life of marital bliss. Besides I've always been a true follower of the adage that 'flattery will get you everywhere'. She was just the tip of the iceberg. using her as a stepping stone I built my way into her social circle and established my little kingdom, my very own Camelot where I ruled the roost.
But my rejoicing was short lived for I came face to face with a nemesis in the guise of an intelligent social butterfly named Calista who with her sincerity and wit did not need to resort to wiles like I did to make friends. How dare she try to thwart my plans of ascendancy? What was she compared to me; ungainly,ruddy and with a boring personal style of wardrobe? I would squash her like an annoying gnat swatted by a bat in the heat of the summer. Except it never happened no matter how hard i tried to eliminate this piece of competition.So I was reduced to distancing myself from her and anyone who chose to be with that witty busybody than gorgeous old me.She went ahead and lead her righteous, savant way of life while I furthered my collection of adulating fans who made me the center of attention.But after all my efforts I was left with just a few really unenterprising women who were not exactly up to my caliber but they just about had to do for the time being.
I shifted my focus on a career, one that i could dilly-dally about and still maintain a professional front to pass my time. This was just what I needed to survive this dulls ville of modern suburbia. So now I'm a self-proclaimed career woman, mother of three and still the best looking broad this side of the globe ( Thanks to the live-in Au pair and the botox gifts I receive every year from my still ardent husband of mine). Hell! I'm the stuff that reality shows are all about! And I owe this personal victory to my shrewdness and Dale Carnegie who wrote a brilliant book on how to win people in my favor called 'How to win friends and influence people'.
I hereby confess that I am the epitome of diplomacy and elegance but I still need a place to voice my true feelings. Hence this confession of my sociopolitical efforts to gain success in life and my social designs. Thank you blank white pages for giving me a chance to have that one glimmer of sincerity. Now I can go back to being the Prim a Donna that i am with a clear conscience.
Until the next time i get another burst of goodness where i feel the need to admit the truth of my being. But till that time comes I will resort to any means to divide, conquer, connive using every ounce of my wiles to get what I want. Au Revoir!

The very ground beneath our feet : a review

Every passing day leaves the imprint of an experience. The moments floating away weave into a tapestry blending together the threads of learning life’s most precious of lessons. Be it the secrets to coping with upheavals or the words of the wise that teach us the very essence of our existence. But it is through the volumes of prose and poetry we get a glimpse into the greater sphere of things.

I have come across one such author in my pursuit of reading who in her writing can encapture a myriad of emotions,circumstances and experiences that touch a common cord with anyone who wants to pick up a good book; Jhumpa Lahiri.

In an almost trilogical fashion her latest offering ‘Unaccustomed Earth’ she places before us eight compelling stories that tap right into the pulse of the human psyche.

Her Pulitzer -prize winning debut ‘The Interpreter of Maladies’ was also a collection of short stories that shed light on the post-colonial diaspora faced by the multitude of the South-east Asians who’d left their homelead in pursuit of the ‘American Dream’. These were brief vignettes into events that could shake the very brass tacks of relationships like a clandestine affair in ‘Sexy’ or a couple’s displaced relationship in the aftermath of a miscarriage in ‘A Temporary Matter’. Lahiri’s style was established in this book as crisp,evocative and exquisite in its prose compelling both the classic-reading audience as well as a paperback one. The stories left an impact on a reader no matter what style they were accustomed to reading.

Graduating further she penned ‘The Namesake’ her full length novel that went on to becoming an international phenomenon and an award winning film of the same name directed by the effervescent Mira Nair.( of ‘Salaam Bombay’ and ‘Vanity Fair’ fame)

Once again readers were enthused by her simplistic technique of storytelling and thereby immortalising ‘The Overcoat’ by Nicolai Gogol. Only an author of Lahiri’s caliber could actually take very ordinary characters and breathe into them a lifethat evoked freshness and sincerity. These characters can never be disliked for the decisions they make or the choices they turn to as a result of their actions. Like the confused, emotionally floundering Moushimi who after battling with duty and desire decides to follow her heart treading over the embittered pieces of Gogol Ganguly’s dreams. All of Lahiri’s characters are flawed and human that they attain a cathartic state of grace when they exit the story.

The title story ‘Unaccustomed Earth’ sketches a subtle approach to a displaced relationship shared between a father and daughter who have drifted due to circumstances created by an inability to communicate feelings.

‘Hell-Heaven’ showcases a hardhitting cacaphony of shattered dreams and the illusions that one creates in their minds when they are young.

I particularly found ‘Only Goodness’ very endearing in her treatment of a brother-sister relationship,of a sister who quests to create a perfect world for her baby brother. In course of the story she faces her fair share of heartbreak in the wake of his choices. The author brings forth another facet of the bitter truth many south asian parents shield as a son’s mistakes overtake their lives. They continue to evade reality by covering up for his inability to take responsibility for his own life.

The best collection in this book is the second part namely the stories ‘Hema and Kaushik’. This traces an unconventional lovestory with a sheer drop of a twist that leaves you with a knot in your throat. It is refreshing to see how she creates these silhouettes who later in the tales take on a very realistic, tormented form linked only by their personal pain. How destiny decides unwittingly their fate forms the crux of this triage of stories.

On the whole ‘Unaccustomed Earth’ gives the genre of short story fiction a new and crisp outlook. The author has paid keen attention to detail and the nuances linger in your mind long after the book has been finished and put away.

Doppelganger

She watches herself with the scrutinizing eyes of a hawk, wondering how it came to this.
What! Her life the way it was or the way she hadn't hoped everything would've turned out. Displaced, desolate, hollow and with a lack of meaning. More than anything else feeling left behind as everyone she knew growing had kept their steps advancing forward to achieve goals they had set out as youngsters. How in the world had the years lead her to this juncture? Wasn't being a mother to her child , a dutiful wife to her husband and a enterprising home-maker enough to keep her mind from doing these rigmaroles around this maypole called life?
"Once your child is ready to face the real world you will be free to pursue your dreams...." the words of her mother from a time before rang in her ears in almost cacophonous tone. Ten years ago it had made sense to put her aspirations on a back burner and wait for her time to come. And now as much she'd wished for things to be different in her life compared to the typical housewives of modern suburbia, everything looked just as monotonous as it had when she'd first plunged headlong into that sort of life. Social networking parties,play dates,library trips,field trips, bake sales,soccer practices,swim meets,doctor appointments and the lack of any 'me' time had taken a toll on her psyche. There are times when even the lighthearted laughter of friends gathered together in merriment reverberates in her ears sending her mind into a tizzy.
Had she lost her true self in the pursuit of creating this Utopian version of the immigrant dream and as a result sequestered herself to a glass palace?
It almost felt like her life was no longer her own but that of her doppelganger that had arisen from the grave of her former self. As a child the Stephen King story 'The Stepford Wives' had scared the living daylights out of her. But now could it be that this urban utopia had just about encapsulated that very tale?
The tedium of everyday life seemed to come up to swallow her up in its monotony. Was there a way out of this quagmire? Would she have the strength to rise to the occasion and fulfill the dreams she'd placed on the back burner as soon as she had donned this shroud of domesticity?
The answer that came back in the silence was one of stillness, a calm one that only meant with time hope would bloom. Her day would come and if her fortitude prevailed she would triumph.

Rhapsody!!!

I can remember a day when an old friend had mentioned in a moment of jest that he envisioned me '"10 years from now you'll see nithya sitting beside an electronic typewriter with a marlboro lite hanging from the side of her mouth and a pair of reading glasses balanced precariously over the bridge of her nose as she violently types away at the machine pausing only to mutter hurried curses as the thoughts flow right into the printed page!"
How thankful i am to the rollercoaster called life that pretty much railroaded that futuristic vision and lead me to the plain of existence that I meander on now. Gone are the curses induced by the foreign filter cigarettes and the morose, goth-ridden words that made many of my friends fear for my sanity. But hey can you blame for being inspired by the new wave called Grunge and the teachings of the unequivocal guru of the 90's Gen-X Kurt Cobain? And i certainly did not need reading glasses thanx to good gene pool to aid me in a hobby that still remains a solid part of my life; reading.
The only thing that has managed to stay true of that earlier prediction is the part about me typing away, a typewriter then but a laptop now; at least the word electronic still stands the same. I am glad the nicotene has been replaced by a less harmful vice namely caffeine in the form of a cup of strong brewed espresso or a chilled glass of cola pop.
Motherhood at first had taken everything out of me the first two years. Before embarking on it i had envisioned days when i would look upon the sleeping form of my child in his little bassinnet and feel an overwhelming urge to write and express my love for this little person that i had birthed from my loins. I would relate to the blank white pages how being a mother had made me so complete and whole. Instead i pretty much spent most of the spare time I had between feedings,changings , half-baked sleep and zombie-stage housework reaching for the nearest snack in the pantry or the refrigerator. Hence as a result of these visits i reached a point where i almost thought i'd never return. Even a trip back home to revisit old memories didn't bring me out of this stupor. What did shake me out of this stagnating reverie was an anxiety spasm mistaken for a chest pain that brought me down to a crashing reality. "LIFE IS SHORT!!!!"
Now that was on the eve of my 30th birthday. Cliched as it may sound i came to a bright revelation that shed light on the way i had been conducted my business of life in a sloth like pace.
'No more,' I chided myself and decided to foray into the world of blogging. Once there i regained my lost 'mojo', or my 'force' as i term it. Like Luke Skywalker embracing his destiny as a Jedi knight or a current reference ,Caroline Kennedy living up to her political parentage I accepted myself in all my idiosyncracies and complexities . Now from that moment till now the journey has been one of learning my all my experiences,even the inane ones and making changes one day at a time. Baby steps taken day by day towards reaching an equilibrium of emotional statistics to avoid a mid-life crisis from rearing its ugly head a day too early.
One look around myself and i say 'Wopa! 'La Vita E Bella'.