The Broken Nest – Part 2- Hey stranger!

My lawyer doesn’t look that smart. I don’t know if she is here to help or damage my case.Me, being the man, I was the biggest suspect. Nobody wasn’t even interested in listening to my side of the story. And my lawyer, her repetitive questions, the non-stop interrogation, I was beginning to doubt the whole process. Her name is Gunjan Jain. That’s the only thing I seem to know about her. She has been trying to get in my head since yesterday.

Gunjan: Since when and how do you know Isha-the woman who died?

My whole life flashed is front of me in one second. How good it was! Everything was perfect a few years ago.”Isha is my girlfriend since college. It has been six years I know her.” So,is Isha really dead?I felt confused. A part of me felt happy,just realizing that the everyday fights have finally ended. She used to cry a lot, repent on the decision of choosing me as her partner. She must be really happy now. That she is finally free of me. I missed her.Her touch,the smell of her hair.

“It was good 6 years ago. In fact, we started having regular fights around 2 years ago”

Gunjan: What did you guys fight about?

“Isha had started nagging and whining. Yes we went on dates and dinners,but somehow every night ended with an argument.”

Gunjan: Did you try therapy?Why didn’t you guys separate if it was so hard?

“I don’t know about her,but I could not imagine my life without her. I was used to having her around,getting back to home,to her. The arguments,the fights,I wanted to think that may be we had evolved into this,and this is a phase. I saw a lot of couples around having arguments. Which couple doesn’t quarrel?”

Gunjan: Well, I am sure there are no deaths involved!

(Pause)

Gunjan Continues :See, you have to understand that being your lawyer, I don’t want to know whether you killed her or not.However, to protect you I need to know the dynamics of your relationship. The prosecution will have a lot of things in their hand, and they will try to prove that it was you who murdered her in cold blood.So I need to know the whole thing to protect you.How was your relationship like?

“Just like any other couple. We had love,passion,hatred,cringed each other when we had each other around,missed each other when not around, embarrassed ourselves again and again.This is normal. Isn’t It?”

I paused for a moment and wondered if Isha felt the same. Or did she really hate me?Did she want to get rid of me?Did she finally fall out of love?

The Broken Nest-Part 1- What did you do?

She lay there,dead. Lifeless. I wondered where did I go wrong. She fell free for 14 floors and landed with a thud on the ground, all before my eyes, a few seconds ago. Could I have saved her?

What else could I have done to make it better?

Why did she do this to me?

Was I that bad as a man?As a partner?

I felt a rush to wake her up and talk to her for the last time. I had questions in my mind. A lot of unanswered questions. A lot of anger. A lot of things which I had wanted to share but was hesitant. How unfortunate it is to feel like this,at this moment. Her body lying motionless,her eyes looking away from me. Blood everywhere, her soft manicured hands lying still on the ground. It was a mess in my head and heart. Anger,shame, guilt, disgust,love-all the emotions together made my blood rush in my body at light speed. I was holding the terrace railing tight, wondering if I could rewind it all back to a few minutes ago.

There was loud bang on the terrace entrance. The policemen came running, and put handcuffs on me. They kept asking me something. It was all a blur. My ears started ringing. They were taking me away. I was busy thinking what if she could wake back up. Just move her head and look towards the terrace. No way, that would be a disaster. It just scares the hell out of me just imagining that she with her skull bleeding would look back at me with her blank eyes. It’s better if things done are not undone now.

So much crowd around. Everyone whispering, murmuring, talking,I don’t know about what. Strange looks, strange stares. I know these people. This is a different look. Do they think I killed her? It’s better I look at the ground. I was not in a state to utter a word. While I was busy imagining and thinking about a lot of things, events, emotional memories, the last words she spoke, the police jeep reached the local Thana. They locked me up. I was innocent. I hadn’t done anything. I suddenly realised they all thought that I am the killer, that I killed my girlfriend. I got my voice back. I started shouting “I didn’t kill her,It wasn’t me!She jumped off the terrace. Get me out. It was a suicide. I need a lawyer!I didn’t kill her!I didn’t kill her!!”

To be continued…..

A little bit more

I need to lose 5 more pounds.

Aargh, why can’t I perfect the winged eyeliner?

Size 6, I am just too big. I wish I was a size 4.

She is so tall. She is perfect. When will I learn to wear the heels?

A little more bronzer. A little more highlighter.

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The list never ends. Rants go on. From ourselves to our self. We are never happy. That level of perfection. That photo shopped model on the magazine who has a perfect waist, a waif body, the perfect long hands,with the perfect manicured nails, and the perfectly blow dried hair.Even her toe-nails are so perfect.

Here is a small summary of what I try to do.

I weigh myself everyday in the morning.As its the perfect time to measure body weight. After every meal I have, after every visit I make to the bathroom, I keep on weighing as my weight fluctuates. I also have an inch-tape. To measure my wrist,arm,waist,neck,hips because I need to calculate my body fat percentage. The forever ongoing battle with the weighing scale.

I can’t skip a meal. That would affect my metabolism. 2 or 3 meals a day with Intermittent fasting carefully scheduled sometimes. I have to take care that my meal has sufficient nutrients. Just the perfect amount of fat, protein and carbs.

No excess carbs, no refined sugar, no refined white flour. No Aspartame. No this no that. I count calories. My FitBit motivates me to move. I google glycemic index of foods before consumption.

Sounds crazy and overwhelming right?

Is there an end to this? May be not. But I am perfectly fine with it.

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My obsession with myself lies perfectly on the brim where on one side lies extreme neglect for myself,hogging on all the food I want. And on the other side is bulimia, starvation, a desire to start smoking to suppress hunger. Just on the brim, where I have to walk tip-toed balancing my work life, relationships and health of course. Recognising the right boundaries is very important. I don’t want to hate myself.I just need to be aware of my lifestyle and my regular habits. I know I can’t be that magazine perfect woman. Even after professional airbrushing and Photoshop.I just desire to be perfect version of myself.

Body shaming is a new term. And I don’t find much logic in it. Exceptions are medical conditions obviously, but I would like to be told and informed if I am not taking care of myself. I may to be too thin or too fat and a friend or a well wisher can frankly tell me to take better care of myself.

kate moss

Self love and self criticism both are equally important. Its important to be aware of the fact that I cannot be like another person who I perceive to be perfect and also that I can work towards a better version of myself without harming myself. Balance is the key.

P.S. I worship Adriana Lima.