You mad bro?

Posted: June 15, 2012 in Uncategorized

I am going mad. Insane. I am on the brink of losing it. The mental asylum looks quite inviting. Maybe over there, one can actually find peace (Apart from the regular screams from the lobotomy section). Why?

Well the story began 4 years back. It was a sunny monsoon day, where the clouds hung back to allow the sun to smile upon us. Oh yes, it truly was a beautiful day. A day when a family decided it was the natural progression of life to buy a larger house and shift the joyous, and the sad moments there. And thus was purchased the next segment of a “future”. And that is when the dark clouds covered my smiling friend.

For 2.5 years, the family waited patiently. Ah yes, good guess. It is my family I speak off. Oh, we waited. Quietly, talking of the days of joy to come. And we waited, for that construction to get over. And we waited. Might I add, we waited. But not sitting idle. The mother handled the mantle of trustee and president of a woman’s NGO. Quite an impressive role. The father was nominated to be the governor of a multinational NGO. Yes, quite impressive. And I got myself a job. Not too impressive. So our wait wasn’t that bad. And then we got the house. Completely bare.

So began our quest to conquer all evil in middle earth. Or basically furnish the house. An interior designer was selected, to lead us over rough terrain and treacherous waters. The first of our many mistakes. A man who loved putting one thing in every house. Crystal figurines. Like really?? But I digress. Our valiant leader is selected. And we await creative and mindboggling ideas for completing this quest. What we get is some rotten bread and some crystal figurines (I’m sorry, but I really fucking hate crystal figurines).

Not to be disheartened by such a pathetic leader, we take it upon ourselves to see this house ready. And that is when the father’s role as governor, mother’s role as trustee, daughter’s work and son’s (moi) slave work gets really intense.

But no! The fear that chills the bones of most, or at least the people with osteoporosis, does not affect us. We labour through, making up for creativity lacking in our “leader”. But what happens with all leaderless groups, also happens with us. We bicker and fight over small things like the hall layout, and big things like crystal figurines. Things selected by daughter and son, gets vetoed by senior Security Council members (Well, they do control the overall GDP of the household). Things selected my mother and father, are squashed by the junior rebel group, being termed as old fashioned and not “funky”. And thus we divide and get conquered.

While this goes on, never forget the rest of the world. Work. Bloody work. It drives a nail into your body like coffin, every single breath. Ah, the agony. And the NGO heads aren’t dealing easy either. Big posts mean big work. And a lot of it. Add to that, more work. Funnnnn times. So the Governor and the Trustee are busy with their NGOs and the employees (me) are busy scraping together a meagre salary.

Well, we do get around through the initial painful fights. And come to a few unanimous decisions (might I stress on the word “few”). But we do get through the basic work. So now the house is shaping up. Wooohooo. Not so fast. The leader is waking up from his hibernation, with shit still inside him. And that leads us to another problem. He’s trying to bring individual family members over to the dark side. But sense prevails, and good does triumph. “Leader, go back to sleep, we got this.” And we do. So the house is looking more like a home. Much more. Oh, quite a few delays. Quite a lot, actually. When everyone is busy, there is not much one can do. But so we get to the final touch ups.

That is when the small things start coming out. What we thought was just about 10-15 odd jobs left, turned out to be about 100-150 odd jobs left. I did try hitting my head on the wall. It hurts. Do not try.

We carried on, excitement all drained out. This became another part of regular work. “When is this bloody thing going to be ready, baaahhh” was on our mind and sometime on the lips (albeit with a few abuses thrown in). So what ended up happening for me was that I worked a job Monday through Friday. And then I did my job as part time interior decorator on Saturday and Sunday. So I basically worked 24/7. And pay was still dirt.

Even changing ad agencies did not affect anything. Sure better work, but still shit timings. So I get done by 10-11 in the week. And weekends I don’t think I ever stop. Except for the times I’m lying in a drunken stupor. So what has been going on for the past one year, is that I have been working 7 days a week. Without a break. And it’s the same with the entire family. So what does that leave you with? A drain on mental capabilities. A dulling of your senses. Fuck Sparta, this is madness.

Madness has become a norm. Even after we shifted, there were few jobs at “home”, left to be completed. And that is a list that shall never be sated. It’s a reverse bucket list. Completing all these WILL kill you.

So I’m going mad. I will be soon making my madness official by posting naked pictures of myself on facebook. But right now, I need to go and finish some more jobs pending in my beautiful new home. There are some crystal figurines I need to break.

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Comments
  1. Vrinda says:

    Love the sarcastic spin on your frustration

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