In my third appointment with my therapist Ish, i had tried to differentiate between my thoughts and my feelings. It still wasn't enough, she told me. For the first time, someone asked me to use more adjectives. I hope to indulge.
I told Vai Vow that he didn't have to come. I knew that he didn't want to come and was offering to come so that i wouldn't feel bad. I felt i was spending too much when i took an auto instead of the train. The guilt of the middle class should be a book and i should write it.
During the therapy, i revisted some of the abusive relationships i was in. I felt cold. Didn't feel like crying but that what happens to me when i am excited or scared or a mix of emotions i can't name, happened. My teeth were chattering when i spoke about what N had done.
At the computer repair shop, they behaved exactly how i thought they would behave. Felt rage inside me. I imagined slapping the man. When he started explaining the reason why he couldn't take payment by card, during his long fucking rant i just kept staring at him. I thought i saw an expression that amounted to confusion. He was not able to decipher that form of response, it seemed. Whenever the two men said a sentence that was insulting or arrogant or was a lie, i felt like slapping them. Back in the road, i felt like holding the man's face with my fist and repeatedly slapping him.
What i did, is cry. I analyzed the reasons why they treated me the way they treated me. I knew it was my clothes, my complexion, my class that they had guessed to be something below them, my caste that they had guessed to be something below them. I did not speak in English purposely, there. Even when he tried to mansplain in English, thinking that would shut me up. I continued in Hindi, thinking of the larger picture. I was imagining a situation where the girl didn't know English. How they would've treated her.
This exercise makes me remind of Inji Pennu. She had once told me that whenever i got such violent thoughts i should jot it down. She told me that she had had the same problem once. She would've laughed if she saw me now doing this after being instructed by my therapist. 'I knew it all along, you never understood my greatness,' she would've said.
After Vai Vow got pissed and decided to go back and shout at them and i dissuaded him, i felt guilty. Sunk deeper into the sadness pit thinking i always brought this on people who loved me or came with me. Wrote a mail to Lenovo. During the time i was mailing and trying to find out where i could complain, i once kept clicking on a button, relentlessly.
The week ended with a new problem of sexual harassment cropping up. I got news that Director, Debamitra Mitra is spreading a lie that sexual harassment activist students broke the surveillance cameras at the main gate. Then started strategies, calls and all the usual things. Felt dejected. When is this all going to end!
Here is the poster i made for WASH sensitization programme. Too much to do. Too little time.
I told Vai Vow that he didn't have to come. I knew that he didn't want to come and was offering to come so that i wouldn't feel bad. I felt i was spending too much when i took an auto instead of the train. The guilt of the middle class should be a book and i should write it.
During the therapy, i revisted some of the abusive relationships i was in. I felt cold. Didn't feel like crying but that what happens to me when i am excited or scared or a mix of emotions i can't name, happened. My teeth were chattering when i spoke about what N had done.
At the computer repair shop, they behaved exactly how i thought they would behave. Felt rage inside me. I imagined slapping the man. When he started explaining the reason why he couldn't take payment by card, during his long fucking rant i just kept staring at him. I thought i saw an expression that amounted to confusion. He was not able to decipher that form of response, it seemed. Whenever the two men said a sentence that was insulting or arrogant or was a lie, i felt like slapping them. Back in the road, i felt like holding the man's face with my fist and repeatedly slapping him.
What i did, is cry. I analyzed the reasons why they treated me the way they treated me. I knew it was my clothes, my complexion, my class that they had guessed to be something below them, my caste that they had guessed to be something below them. I did not speak in English purposely, there. Even when he tried to mansplain in English, thinking that would shut me up. I continued in Hindi, thinking of the larger picture. I was imagining a situation where the girl didn't know English. How they would've treated her.
This exercise makes me remind of Inji Pennu. She had once told me that whenever i got such violent thoughts i should jot it down. She told me that she had had the same problem once. She would've laughed if she saw me now doing this after being instructed by my therapist. 'I knew it all along, you never understood my greatness,' she would've said.
After Vai Vow got pissed and decided to go back and shout at them and i dissuaded him, i felt guilty. Sunk deeper into the sadness pit thinking i always brought this on people who loved me or came with me. Wrote a mail to Lenovo. During the time i was mailing and trying to find out where i could complain, i once kept clicking on a button, relentlessly.
The week ended with a new problem of sexual harassment cropping up. I got news that Director, Debamitra Mitra is spreading a lie that sexual harassment activist students broke the surveillance cameras at the main gate. Then started strategies, calls and all the usual things. Felt dejected. When is this all going to end!
Here is the poster i made for WASH sensitization programme. Too much to do. Too little time.
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