The diary of a schizophrenic

So today, I don't know what struck me but I suddenly wanted to write this short, thriller about a dysfunctional man. It was originally mean for my college magazine but I decided to put it up here as well. I hope its liked by whoever reads it and please leave your comments to tell me how it was. Suggestions and constructive criticism would be very appreciated. Also, you could leave a comment if you want me to blog about any other topic in particular. Thank you!

                                        THE DIARY OF A SCHIZOPHRENIC:

I walked into the gloomy asylum, I could not believe that it was just two months ago that I had gotten married to a beautiful lady.

 Her skin like white marble and her cheeks would put roses to shame. How she roamed around my entire mansion, singing as she dusted the old place. We were happy in our own world, just the two of us. I made her leave her job when we married, I could not think to part ways with her. I told her we have enough to survive. I just needed her to be with me. She agreed of course, that was her love.

However, she was the exact opposite of what I was. She liked to go out in the sun and make small talk with the neighbours, I on the other hand, could not quite grasp why one would want to leave the confines of the most comfortable bed. I always thought she was an overly clean individual, she thought I was very unclean. If she could help it, she would throw me out of my own house one day. I knew it was a joke, she had a very good sense of humour. 

Her utterly romantic gazes would become increasingly irritating as she complained I was not romantic enough. At times, she would even act out, telling me how I could not form the right words. But, it was all fun and play. She had a very good sense of humour.

I never complained at her temper tantrums when she threw various things at me for being worried about her safety. The world was not a safe place, she should not be so carefree. She often joked to her friends and family about how I was overprotective when they whined about her not coming to meet them. After all, she had a very good sense of humour. She told them that I was a reserved soul and she respected that. She would smile warmly at me and rarely would anything tug at my heart, but her smile sometimes did.

But one day, she went out of the mansion. I had told her the world was a cruel place. When she came back, things were not the same. We often argued bitterly, she called me hurtful things and told me she wanted to leave me. But I loved her too much! I could not let her go! She became crazy, I suspected she was mentally ill! Something violently hit me. I retaliated. Maybe the red I saw that day was brighter than the colour of her cheeks.

I winced at the memory and saw a glass window forming in front of me. Memories did peculiar things to you. I never realized how my feet has brought me to her. Two rapt knocks came on the glass window which brought my attention to it. I was here to see my beloved, Sandra, her name escaped my chapped lips.

I peered into the glass window, eager to see her. A vaguely familiar face stared back at me but it was not Sandra.

“Where is Sandra? Who are you?” I asked, confused.

The female shook her head in exasperation and pushed open the metal door which was beside the glass window. I was intimidated by the fact that the asylum allowed crazy people to just open the doors and walk around like this.

“You need to come with me,” she said sternly.

“Why? Where is Sandra?” I asked nervously. Somehow, I was scared of this lady. I did not know why. She reckoned me to follow her mutely.

I listened to her and followed her, maybe she would lead me to Sandra. She walked behind me, like how they would walk behind a prisoner. My legs were becoming increasingly heavy, like I knew bad news was coming.

I entered a room. It was filled with a big chair with constraints. I don’t know why I turned to run but became very relaxed after I felt a prick on my arms. My eyes felt heavy.

I woke up to see a uniformed individual in front of me. “He has come to,” he announced.

Confused, I realized I was bound to the big chair. Sandra. What was happening?

“Where did you hide her body?” The uniformed one asked, leaning towards me. His breath was hot on my face. I cringed uncomfortably. 

Flashes of red filled my head. Her cheeks were so red.

“Where did you hide her?” He punched me.

Blood. Her cheeks were so red.

I smiled. Sandra had done this. I knew she was punishing me for putting her in this asylum.

“Tell me!”

More blood.

Hysterical laughter escaped my lips. One more of her typical jokes. I loved her jokes. My laughter filled the entire room. After all, she had a very good sense of humour. 

We think we blend into the crowd, but we don't.

I was never one to stand out. Too plain to be considered exceptionally pretty, and quite okay looking to be considered ugly. Too chubby to be considered slim, and quite far away from fat. Never quite introverted, never the enthusiastic extrovert either. Exceptionally good in academics but not as good as the top few. Not the loner but not quite the popular person either.  It was never this par or that par. I was always stuck in the middle.

People say things are either black or white. That's wrong. There is a huge grey area and I fall well in that grey area. Life never considered me to be anything special. I was drowning in its mediocrity. I was never expected to do anything great than just what ordinary people do in their ordinary lives. It is specially frustrating when you yourself want to leave behind some kind of legacy but think you think you are nothing special. You fall into the category that probably a million other people fall into.

But still, I want to do something great. I can't die until people know my name, for the right reasons of course. I thought to myself, well Shivangi, its okay if you aren't the best, but do what you want to do, not what the world expects you to do. And I stuck to it, I pursued Psychology instead of Biotechnology. I migrated from the world education hub (Singapore) to one of the most lax countries in the world (India) just so that I could take Psychology as a subject which the institutions in Singapore were not offering me. Sure, my parents thought it was a pretty vague subject to pursue and that it has no scope but still, it was something I knew would finally bring me out of the rut of being in the grey area, this was my chance to make a break for it. I grabbed it, as tightly as I could.

At times, I agree I became very competitive. But competition is not a blasphemy, you now. It tends to bring out the best in you. I gave my best to that subject. If not the top, I want to be one of the top psychologists in the world. Eventually, it was my drive and my passion for my career that began to attract people towards me. Not all of them were attracted for the right reasons, some just wanted to pull me down. But it won't happen. I won't let it happen. I am fighting to be on the top just so that people can pull me down from there. People who want to pull you down are already beneath you so why waste your time?

I finished my board examination here in Mumbai and then applied to Nanyang Technological University (NTU) in Singapore to get into the curse of clinical psychology, with an average of 82%. I was rejected, because the cut off was 85%. My heart still burns when I think of why I was rejected. It was because I was unable to finish my economics paper which caused me to lose 20 marks. I could have gotten in, I was not good enough. But I refuse to stop, I refuse to go back to the grey area. It's either this par or that par now, there is no looking back. I will try again for my Masters degree, and this time, I will make sure they take me in.

I realized, that people my sure be born into the grey area, but they are not always meant to stay there. It's your will that will pull you out and force you to make it to the few people who have everything that you wish to have.

Soon, I became one of the exceptional ones. I groomed myself to look the way I want to look. I started looking better. I dropped the extra weight, I studied harder because I loved what I was studying, I forced myself to be more assertive and outspoken, and it was because of that that I finally became more popular amongst that previously did not know my name.

No one is condemned to be in the grey area forever. You can make it to wherever you want. Just focus on your goals and tell yourself it's do or die. And I promise you, whatever you want will come as free incentives with the completion and success of your goals.

If life has taught me anything, it is- no one is meant to blend into the crowd, we all stand out. You don't have to be popular or skinny or good looking or utterly smart to be considered special. It can also be your goal that moulds you into who you are. Recognize the goal that you are ready to take the leap of faith for, and half your battle has already been won. 

The thing about trains... (WARNING: LONG POST AHEAD)

The thing about trains in India, is like it's a war ground. Really, ask any and every Mumbaikar and they are sure to have some or the other "interesting" story to tell you about their train travels (unless of course, they are one of the uber rich kids who have not seen the essence of Bombay a.k.a it's trains). If you are a female and you travel by trains every other day, then I salute you. Let me tell you people that it's not as easy task at all. Getting onto the train itself, let alone finding a seat in the peak hours, is an inhumane task and one should receive a medal for it.

I am not at all exaggerating. Okay, so somehow (by some miracle and god given talents) you manage to get on. The battle is all uphill from there, my friend. You shove your way into the depths of the sweet-smelling, sweaty, grumpy ladies who all act as if standing in the middle of the train and blocking the way of the other passengers is their birth right. They will literally not move even though they will see the sympathetic plight of the other women trying to get into the train desperately, their arms and legs partially hanging out of the bursting, over-crowded train.

After the exhausting pushing and shoving your way inside, and being abused by a few women along the way, you finally reach the seats but, surprise, surprise! The seats are also full. Not one seat is empty. In fact, there are only three seats which are suppose to be allotted to three people. However, as we all know, Mumbai is the city of opportunities and India is the city of "thoda adjust kar lo na bhai" (please adjust a little bit), and so, you will now see four hefty women miraculously squeezed into the seats which were previously only meant for three people. The fourth person will obviously be sitting with half her butt onto the little space that is given to her and the other half of her butt bulging out, begging for support (it does not only sound gross, it looks gross as well). Some women will also be like, please move in a little but it's impossible to move in because those who are sitting are already so squeezed of space, it's pathetic.  So any ways, let me continue. Now, there are six types of stereotypical women you will find in these trains be it, first class or second class.

1. The squabbler- this type of lady is usually the most stereotypical Indian woman one can find, she has a big red bindi on her head with a hard face and pencilled eyebrows. She is the toughest and the fattest of the lot and wears either a salwaar kameez or a scanty sari, none of which, by the way, succeeds in hiding those love handles. She thinks that she owns the train and can tell people what to do. From who will sit where to where she wants to sit, she thinks she has a say in everything. She will fight at the smallest of provocations and will argue so loudly that she overrides what the opposite person is trying to say. She will continue fighting even though she is wrong and until the opposite person does not stop rebutting her. Sometimes, even after the argument ends, this aunty will continue making crude remarks under her breath and shoot dirty looks at the person who dared to speak up against her. If she likes you, then you are lucky because she will help you search for a seat as she knows who is getting off on which station (yes, she is that nosey) but if she does not like you, then do not engage. I repeat, DO NOT ENGAGE.

2. The righteous one- so, if there is a squabbler, there will also be one woman who will mess with her because whatever the squabbler says is wrong more often than not. This woman has a very straight posture and has a face which says she will not tolerate any nonsense. She will usually mind her own business and not speak unless spoken to. She will only care about her own seat and will be undisturbed by whatever happens in her surroundings. The squabbler picks a fight with the righteous one 75% of the time. Sometimes, I think the squabblers like to pass their time in the train by arguing with people. 

3. The mediator- if two people are arguing and the noise sometimes gets too unbearably loud, that  is when the mediator steps in. This woman is the third unbiased party which helps them to calm down. In most situations, the mediator is another one of the righteous women. She will look sensible and downright bored by the whole fiasco, would just want some peace and quiet because she would not be getting any at home. She just wants to get some sleep. 

4. The hangers- why I call these women the hangers because these women will always be hanging out of the trains and the sole safety they will have is their hand clutching the handle inside the train. Regardless of the train being crowded or empty, whether there are seats or not, these people will be hanging out of the trains. Yes, it's dangerous but I guess they just like to live dangerously (and stupidly). These are the women who will usually get pushed, shoved, injured many times and stepped on during peak hour. Because during peak hours, the train does not even get a chance to stop fully before the waves and throngs of women outside on the station platform barge into the train. Well obviously, who cares about losing their limbs? They just want to get a seat and get home. Thus, obviously, if you stand like a barricade stopping these women from entering, you are bound to get shoved around. Nonetheless, if they get injured, they will pick a fight with all the person who injured them and on the next day, stand in the exact same place, acting as a barricade again. 

5. The onlookers- as one can guess from the name, these women want no part in the daily drama that goes on in the train. They just want to get to their destination and go on in their daily life without the unnecessary conflict. Yes, they will take the quarrels between two women as a source of entertainment and yes, they will enjoy it and think of it as ridiculous but these women will not ignite even when provoked and just keep quiet or prefer to say sorry and get on with their work because, "ain't nobody got time for this shit". That was the only apt way to describe their way of thinking.

6. The sophisticated ones- these women are all the dressed up women who have corporate jobs or are going out somewhere. Whatever the reason might be, these ladies dress up in their best clothes and enter the train acting as if they are too fashionable to be there. Since at times they might dress up in clothes which might be considered "indecent" or "scanty" in the Indian society (but they are not indecent or scanty at all, they are normal clothes), you will be able to see heads turn in their direction when they make their entrance into the train or onto the platform. Some crude guys will call them "item" or "maal" which means hot babe. Most women (like me) will feel eyes burning a hole into their back should they wear such clothes, and thus, women refrain from wearing such clothes in trains. But not these women, these women don't mind all the attention. in fact, they bask in such attention and some even like it.

All that said, I am a mixture of the righteous one and the onlooker. I would not interfere between two women when they are fighting and enjoy the argument. I would accept it when it is my mistake and apologize for it but when provoked without a reason, I would engage in the battle. And win. Damn right I would win. Many times, the arguments are downright hilarious. They argue in Marathi but I will write it down in English. For example: 

Woman A: HAVEN'T YOUR PARENTS TAUGHT YOU ANYTHING?!

Woman B *smiling*: My parents have taught me much more than yours and that is why our tones are so different.

Woman A: YOU BITCH! YOU DARE CALL MY PARENTS ANYTHING!

Woman B *grinning and enjoying the argument*: Can you stop barking like a dog please?

Woman A: WHY ARE YOU SMILING?! WHAT SO FUNNY?! DON'T SHOW ME YOUR TEETH!

Woman B *laughing*: Because unlike you, I brush my teeth everyday.

Woman A *lost for words* 

Woman B 1 point, Woman A 0 points. And so, this goes on everyday. It is very amusing, trust me.

But getting back to the point, a train is like a miniscule kingdom and it has it's rules and hierarchies. Though they are unspoken, people are expected to know them. If you don't, you might most likely get into a fight and end up being hated by most of the people being on board with you on that train and we don't want that. It is not pleasant at all.

So, here are the rules:

1. The person who has the seat has veto say over who gets to sit on that precious seat after that particular person gets off and it's first come, first serve basis. For example, if you get on at station number 5 and want to get off at station number 15, you look for someone that will get off the soonest after station number 5. After you find that person, you ask the person for her seat. But, probability is that, that seat has already been spoken for by someone else. Tough luck, you better try to find another suitable seat fast before someone else does! 

2. If you have already spoken for a seat, you have to make sure that the the person sitting on the fourth seat does not shift in because if she does then you might end up on the fourth seat (with half a butt jutting out of the seat). If the fourth seater has been promised a "shift in" that is, a promise that once the person gets off, the others will move in and the new person will have to sit on the fourth seat then do not argue, that person has more say because she was there before you and was promised the shift in way before you. 

3. If a lady is kind enough to stand up before her station and give you her seat because she observes that you were standing for a long time then WORSHIP HER. This happens very rarely but it has happened to me twice in my three years here.Be extremely grateful and thank her profusely. Remember to refuse at least twice before taking her seat because that's the norm. And that is polite.

4. If you are fortunate enough to catch a seat, thank your lucky stars and pass the kindness forward by offering to hold onto another lady's bag if you think she looks really hassled and needs your help. Trust me, she will be really grateful to you. 

5. Beware of standing onlookers and the aunties sitting beside you for they might stare into your phone. Yes, we all know Indian aunties are nosey. So since they are in the train and cannot poke their long noses into their relatives' businesses, they choose to poke their noses into your business and peer into your phone while you are messaging someone or playing games. Give them a dirty look, they will stop. 

6. Children get first priority for the window seats. This is the most annoying rule ever. I mean, hello, I got the seat, it's my window seat and somehow when a mother comes and requests you to shift a little so that her annoying, little toddler can sit near the window, you have to smile like her child is the cutest in the world and painfully part with your window seat. I MEAN WHY?! WHY?! I feel like yelling, "IT'S MY WINDOW SEAT GET YOUR OWN. MY SEAT!" But, I am a mature 20 year old and I will not do that, I will gracefully give my seat up to that pesky little... my bad, got carried away (BRAT) with my emotions. PS: if you want to escape doing this, pretend to sleep, works every time! 

7. Don't mess with the eunuchs.  This rule will probably be extremely useful as you might encounter these people regularly. They will get onto the train regularly to beg for money. They will be grateful if you can spare them some change that you have but if you do not want to give them any money then just either ignore them or join your hands together like when you say namaste to someone and say, "maaf karo" (please forgive me). Whatever you do, do not mess with them or insult them because if you do that then there will be dire consequences. 

One of my cousins made that mistake. Well, technically it was not her mistake, the eunuch was demanding for too much money and it was late in the night so the train was empty and so, the eunuch took advantage of the situation and tried scaring her into giving more money. But my cousin was not one to get scared easily. She blatantly refused to give money. The eunuch got off at the next station and my cousin breathed a sigh of relief. But she was unprepared for what happened next- the eunuch got on after three stations with 4-5 more eunuchs. She finally gave in and ended up paying much more to them than what the demanding eunuch was asking for. Moral of the story, if you think the eunuch is dangerous then just give them the money, this is not the time to be a hero. It's not worth it. 

8. Basically, the stations go like: Churchgate-Borivali-Virar. Virar being the outskirts of Bombay. If you intend to go to Borivali, DO NOT take a Virar train. Specially during peak hours. Do not board the Virar train because the people on the Virar train have this spiteful vendetta for people on the Borivali train and so, if you want to get off at Borivali from a Virar train then you can forget about it. They will purposely not let you get off the train. Every train travelling Mumbaikar will know this rule, it's a pretty basic rule. 

9. Lastly, please remember to tie your hair and remove any or all hanging earrings or necklaces. Ugly incidents happen during rush hours. *shudders*

And finally, the hierarchy goes something like:

1. The person who got the seat

2. The fourth seater 

3. The person next in line for the throne

4. The hangers

5. People who want to get into the train 

PS: Don't waste your time standing in the line to buy a ticket during peak travelling times because no one is going to check your ticket in a crowded train. Ticket Checkers (TCs) only come in during lax hours and mostly in the first class. They hardly appear to check tickets in the second class. 

Whatever it might be, every person living in Mumbai should travel by train at least once. It's worth the experience. After all, Mumbai thrives due to it's tracks ;) 

Carnival Cinemas

How on earth do I always end up sitting near the AC vent? I grumpily thought to myself as I shivered under the unforgiving blast coming from the vent. It's no point grumbling now, might as well get to work. I sighed. Because there was no work to be done. At all.

I thought being an intern here at Carnival Cinemas (CC), I would be able to enlighten myself as to what goes on in the HR department of a company. I remember worrying about the work load as I has stepped into the premises of the CC however, my worries were quite unnecessary because, they did not assign me any work for the first day. Hence, I was sitting idle, gnawing my nails off from 10am to 5pm. I know, it was pathetic. but you have to do what you have to do for that letter of recognition from the company. things you have to o for your CV, sheesh!

But, not all of it was bad. I made some friends. they were not my age by a long shot but they were still really amicable and I took a liking to them immediately. I called them my lunch group because since the past two days that I am here we have lunch together and everyone brings a little something in their tiffin and we all share it. It's like a feast, and it's very heart warming and comforting to know that at least, at the end of the day, I did not go back home entirely empty handed.

The second day was much more eventful. I was assigned a task to make a report on workplace stress! Thus, here I am, attempting to do that (or at least, I will do it after I finish this post). I am very determined about this particular report as it's the one report that I get to accomplish in the one month that I will intern at CC. I must do it as flawlessly as my skills allow me as I want to give them my best.

Lunch was amazing as well. I further bonded with the lunch group as today, I had gotten food of my own to share. Yesterday, I had one measly small box so I was not in a position to share anything. But today, I smiled at their delighted faces as I opened my tiffin(s) to reveal gulab jamuns. And if there is one thing about Indians, is that they adore sweets.

On top of that, I managed to outsmart the vent today by wearing a full sleeved top and a hoodie on top of it. So HAH TO YOU VENT! I am currently smiling victoriously and I can't promise you that I am fully sane at the moment. CC is one of the best places to work in. Obviously, this was my first internship so I would not know what to compare it to but the atmosphere is so relaxed and competent at the same time. And you get free coffee (yes, I learnt to drink and love coffee in the two days I was here. I am so mature. Somehow I have the mindset that drinking coffee is for grown-ups.) so it's a win-win! Plus, the staff is so approachable and friendly that it is impossible for anyone not to like thi place.

Any ways, so it all eventually fell into place and if any of you have any inhibitions of taking the per-matured leap from college to work in the name of an internship, then don't be (look at me, feeling so overly positive and thinking I have a million readers who need my advice). Initially, I agree all of it will feel weird but I assure you that the weird feeling will fade and give way to freedom, maturity, independence and a sense of accomplishment in life that you came out of your comfort zone and actually had an experience that is worth while. 

Exams

The title is self explanatory. Exams. Why do they have exams anyways? Is it even legal to have strenuous tests which bisects students according to their intellectual ability? I don't know if it should be done away with.

I looked around, people were scribbling away rapidly onto their answer booklets like as if they were trying to vomit out all the facts that they had carefully crammed into their minds. I looked at my answer sheet, it was blank. Panic started seeping in, and I somehow became a person who was stuck in an air-tight container and there was water trickling in. The person was doomed if he didn't get out of that container and I was doomed if I would not start writing now. 

I bit my lips and looked at the clock, it was 8.10am. I had wasted 10 minutes simply just figuring out what to write. I had studied everything yesterday! Why couldn't I remember anything? I saw the first question, shit! I had just revised this! What was the first line to this answer? If only I could get some cue as to what the first line was, I could successfully complete the entire answer. But how? And then a song started playing in my head. Wasn't this song the exact song which was playing when I had studied this answer? YES! I remember! I quickly started writing down my answer as the information started gushing in. 

After I was done with the paper, I thought to myself- why? Why do people blank out like this? It's so petrifying. I don't know why I thought to blog this, but I had to. Because as I was writing my exam I could only remember songs and useless jibber-jabber popping into my head. 

Well, not everything was nonsensical. There was some stuff that made sense. Like how I had an argument with someone the previous night or how I wanted to solve a problem and it kept on bothering me. We are so preoccupied with our thoughts that even as we sit to write what might be the most important exam of our lives, we think about our problems along with our answers. 

We worry about our futures as we try to recall the sequence of the lines. We reply songs in our head while our hands move to the rhythm of our answers. We think about that movie that we watched while deciding which question to attempt. We think about the plans we will make after exams as we hand in the papers of our first exam. 

Why are we human beings so divided when it comes to attention? Why can't we only focus on one thing and keep the rest of our mind blank? It's not possible. Try thinking of a blank sheet of white paper in your mind for two whole minutes. It's almost impossible! While imagining the paper, you will start thinking about its shape, the pointed edges of the paper, the smoothness it had. Even though it's just a thought, our mind has the power to make things feel real. Why else do you think schizophrenic people "live in another world"? They are trapped in their own mind, a prisoner to their false thoughts. 

We are all slaves to our thoughts, even as I blog this particular post down, I am thinking of a million other things- some of which, I'm not even aware about. Are we our mind or is our mind a part of us? I don't know. 

"TRINGGGGGG!!!!!" The alarm rang. I snapped out of my thoughts. As the realization sunk in, I stared at my blank answer sheet in horror. I had written nothing. It was a plain white sheet of paper lying in front of my while I myself had become a prey to my mind.

The theory of parentism

I know I don't blog regularly, I know I'm a lazy sloth and I also know that I don't have many readers who would be disappointed that I'm not a regular blogger because- I don't have any regular readers. I mostly blog for myself. And today, I'm blogging to rave about the theory of parentism.

I know I'm going to sound like a hypocrite, with one of my previous posts being about mutual understanding with one's parents, but hey, everyone, every kid to be exact has a certain breaking point. And I think I have reached mine today. 

Parents (definition according to dictionary): father or mother (wow, bravo to the dictionary for clearing someone's doubts on what parents are).

Parents (my definition): people who have amazing abilities to twist their words into something that makes us believe we are wrong and if that does not work, the final statement always works a.k.a, "it's our house, so it's our decision". 

The final statement always works 99.99% of the time, unless of course the kid is undeniably rebellious in which case the emotional blackmail is used to bring him/her down a.k.a, "we have worked so hard to bring you up, and this is what we get in return?" Usually it's, always something among those lines. 

It does not matter how your parents were during their childhood, it does not matter if they made the same mistakes that we did and it definitely does not matter that their grades did not match up with ours. All parents somehow, learn the theory of parentism on their way to adulthood. I personally imagine the situation to be such:

Doctor: It's a boy! Congratulations!

Mother and father: *parenting mode activated* 

Maybe it's just me, but sometimes I feel that parents just wait for their child to commit a mistake so that they can have the satisfaction of saying, "AHA! Told you so." I mean WHY? Is there like some secret system which calculates points and the parent who says, "I told you so" the most times gets some award? 

Mothers and Fathers from everywhere, please stop comparing us kids with each other, it's not healthy. It's in fact, extremely hurtful. Every kid is different, we are not the same. Each and every one of us has different positive and negative aspects in our personality. Comparing us would just make us dislike each other. My mother just compared me to some friend's daughter and although I have not even met that girl, I already dislike her. 

I know that we should all be grateful to our parents and listen to what they say and be good children and what not. But even parents are humans and humans have tendencies to make mistakes. They might also be wrong sometimes. But unlike us kids, there is no one to make our parents admit that they are wrong. Unless of course, our grandparents are in the picture. Then, the situation might go something like this:

Mom: I think you should be a doctor, not an architect. 

Girl: but mom, I want to be an architect! 

Mom: I don't think so. 

Grandpa: You did not listen to me either about what you wanted to be, I think you should let the kid decide what she wants. Don't force your decisions on her. 

Mom: *silence* 

Girl: *smiling* 

Yes, grandparents have the alpha final statement. You just can't argue with them because they know all the dirty little things your parents had indulged in while they were young. 

Anyways, that was my rambling about the parentism theory. The theory, which you and even I, will be applying on our kids one day. Trust me, it always gets to you. 

The bank of time ❤️

I know that it's been a while since I wrote a new post it's because I have been utterly lazy :P