The Starting Point

I laughed.

I laughed again.

No I had not gone crazy. I was just trying to make myself secure and comfortable with a fraction of me or let me put it this way, fractions of me, which I did not know about.

The regularity of this feeling is becoming hard for me to handle. And let me make it clear, laughing also isn’t helping much.

But why is this sensation striking me?

I am not in love. I am still going by Island Girl’s Tantra Tee, ‘Single and Unavailable’. Nor am I depressed or hating my own self. (This happens by the way). I am not extraordinarily happy also. All is happening the way it is supposed to.

Once I laugh, its hard on the stomach, its hard on the throat, it is hard on my fundamental nature and it is becoming even harder on my worth.

There are voices that draw closer from different directions and give me the talismans I don’t want, or may be I don’t need. The voices that are adoring, typical, run of the mill, cynical, scathing and then there are no voices. Absolute hush.

At times when I don’t hear voices, I see smiles, that are bonbon, polite, wicked, impious and then there is a time when there are no smiles.

If its not smiles I see frowns, that are contorts, puckered brows, scowls and then there is a time when there are no frowns.

So I can’t laugh.
But do I need to mull over and cry?
Or do I need to gnash my teeth, and shout at the top of my voice?
Or do I need to just chill out and let things pass?

Well all these are tried and tested methods that have not helped anybody. So how can they help me?

Is mysticism an answer? I don’t think so.

I try and concentrate on what I have gathered, slowly and painfully, adding to it, amending it and yes, like being the way I am.

Remembering the starting point can let me savour life in a better fashion.

All this was triggered by a statement that was made some time back, “As a woman you are too pure to be a part of the profession that you have got yourself into.”