Just A Small Rant

via Daily Prompt: Instinct

I don’t share my grief with people.

Call it instinct. Or call it pride.

Show of sympathy by others when I’m grieving is just that – a show. “I understand what you’ve been through…” No, you don’t. You are just trying to make me feel better, which I appreciate, but the words you speak are as genuine as Donald Trump’s tan.

When I’m grieving, leave me to myself. If you want to help, make a cup of tea.

Don’t give me the “There is a life after death”, “It was meant to be” bullshit. Please.

I may not be an adult, but that doesn’t mean you need to dumb down serious things like death for me. If it hurts, it hurts. No two ways about it.

I like my tablets like I like my words – without sugarcoating.

 

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Keychains

Keychains are wonderful. Yeah, I practice cagophily. I have been collecting keychains from the age of nine. As of now, I’ve collected about fifty keychains and more. I love all my keychains.

I love displaying my keychains to others. Well, as somebody said, owner’s pride is neighbor’s envy. All my keychains are displayed with great pride and affection in my room.

All but one. My most prized possession, tucked inside a soft pouch in my table. When I’m down in thee dumps or need inspiration, I take this round key ring out. The cold metal gleams in the dark. Yes. My most prized possession is the key ring (formerly keychain), which belonged to my grandfather.

My grandfather, through proxy, was in the service of the Indian Air Force as an engineer. He came from poor backgrounds, his father having died when he was fourteen. My grandpa had to quit school to make the ends of his family meet. And he had a huge family.

He had worked hard. And the fruits of his labour were reaped. From Italy to Switzerland, gramps went everywhere. By the time his first two granddaughters were born, my family was rolling in moolah (compared to the economic conditions of the 80’s).

My gramps turned 80 in 2008. To honour all octogenarians who were in the Indian Air Force, my grandpa was awarded this very keychain, an airplane model containing a clock, and a medal.

In 2010, he passed away. Unknown to me, he had left this keychain to me, knowing my love for keychains. And this is the very first keychain I collected.

Thanks, gramps.

For Writing 101, Day Twenty.

 

 

IPL Forever!!!

NO! NO! This CANNOT happen! And if it DOES happen, I CANNOT live!!!

Okay. Cool down, girl, cool down.

Just because the underworld don took over the IPL (Indian Premier League) does not mean you can stop enjoying it. But NO! The crazy guy’s gonna CANCEL it, JUST BECAUSE that match’s organizer didn’t give him a FREE ticket??? What the hell!!!

Sob! That means no more fun-filled vacations with cousins, munching snacks and cheering your favorite team ( Go RR Go!!!)…No more disputes with friends over the best-looking cricketer (And I still say it IS Virat Kohli ❤ ❤ )…No more celebrations and deliberations over the team ruling the roost (whether CSK or RCB)…And no more mad running around the house screaming with joy, or wailing with sorrow, over your fave team’s victory or defeat. No more fun thinking of awesome overseas players playing for your home team (Shane Watson and RR is a match made in IPL heaven). Oh damn.A great family-bonding league will be lost forever.

Well, I have to resort to other means to watch my fave form of cricket. No more telly watching. Switch to the Internet. Hail You Tube! But oh well, that mafia can’t bear to see us happy, so I guess he’ll block that too…

Why is my life so miserable suddenly???

For Writing 101, Day Fifteen