First World Problems

Sometimes I catch a virus called First World Problems or FWP  A short summary of the disease is given below:

Cause: Usually triggered off by interacting with people under very normal circumstances.

Symptoms: Depression, Hopelessness, Identity Crisis and Panic Attacks

Cure: Eating high calorie junk food and moving on to the denial phase.

Definition of First World Problem virus:

Virus that attacks the well endowed class. It makes people forget the big picture and helps them focus on trivial and shallow problems. Example: Not finding my favorite pasta sauce and having to settle for a different sauce makes me annoyed. I know I should be grateful for being able to afford the food I want to eat. Yet I am angry for having to change my dinner plans.

How I caught this virus three days back:

It was a normal Friday afternoon. I had a productive day and was in a good mood. I was waiting in line at the USC pharmacy to pick up my prescription medications. That's when I noticed him. He was soooooo gorgeous. Looked like some chiseled greek god with his blond hair and blue eyes. He picked up something from the meds aisle and caught me staring at him. He smiled back and started talking to me. Americans are really good at the so called 'small talk'. Now he is behind me in the line. He asked me if I wanted to grab coffee with him at Ronald Tutor Hall. I have never been on dates with strangers. To be honest I don't go on dates. But being asked out by a hot guy is a huge ego booster and it made me reckless. I said yes.

Two counters opened up at the same time. So the handsome hunk and myself stand next to each other and begin checking out our meds at our respective counters. The pharmacist at the hunk's counter asked him for his date of birth. He said ' 5th May 1996'. I almost had a heart attack. He is almost 10 years younger than I am!!! He is younger than my sister! Shit! I was close to hyperventilating. Thankfully I finished my transaction before him and fled without taking a second look. The FWP virus had successfully entered my system.

Manifestation of the symptoms:

I ran out of the pharmacy and contemplated on places to hide. I felt ancient. I felt like a cradle robbing pervert. I hated being old. Thus the self loathing and self doubt began. I had gone from being immensely happy to having an intense identity crisis in less than 7 minutes. I know I should be feeling happy that a hot 18 year old flirted with me. I should feel happy that I look young and have good health. Yet I chose to ignore that. The virus is very strong you see. Its really good at the work it does. I just walked to the train station so that I could go home. My bat-cave. The place to hide and sulk till I find a cure to the FWP virus.

Finding a cure:

There isn't a fixed cure for FWP's. Its trial and error of various activities until I find the one that helps. I repeat that activity long enough for me to forget my identity crisis and transition into denial. The activities usually involve eating fattening food (I will think about cardiac arrest and diabetes after I recover) and watching TV shows. 

* I had to settle for chocolate ice-cream as it was the only fattening food I could find in my bat-cave. I watched Agents of SHIELD (all 10 episodes), finished a gallon of chocolate ice-cream and dozed off into the denial phase. 

Conclusion:

I woke up the next morning feeling shallow and stupid. I had been cured. I thank my blessings for the life I have and try to move on. But I could feel the virus lurking around in the corner waiting for its next opportunity to strike me. I am sure the virus doesn't have to wait very long. *Sigh*

P.S: If I could ever compete with Marie Antoinette for shallowness I am sure I would come close to winning. 

Namma Bengaluru

I watched Citizen Kane, yet again. Kane on his deathbed remembers a memory from his childhood which was probably the happiest times of his life. Watching it put me into a nostalgic mood and I started reminiscing about home- Bengaluru.  Happy times. Its been close to two years since I went home.

The rainy Bengaluru skies

My mom's beautiful rose garden

I have had a tough year. I realized something wasn't okay with my life. It hasn't been for a long time. I refused to accept the fact that I may be suffering from depression. I pushed off seeking help for way too long. I don't know why, its probably because of the stigma associated with any sort of mental illness. To accept help for mental illness is considered weakness and yet accepting help for depression has been one of the hardest thing I have done so far.

I went to consult a psychiatrist in August, claiming that I am not happy though I have everything I want in life. They asked me to think about the time I was the happiest and determine the reasons for my happiness. 

That's when it hit me. I haven't been happy ever since I was 15. I was happier when I did not have the things I have today. I did not have a swanky degree from one of the top schools in the US. I did not have paper publications. I did not have a huge penthouse loft in downtown Los Angeles. I did not have fancy shoes/ clothes/ books and other stuff I have today. I did not dine at fancy restaurants or do solo road trips. I did not have any gadgets. I did not have money of my own.

Yet I was in a blissful heaven. Those were the times when:

• I would wait for exams to get over and for summer holidays to begin so that I could spend endless hours in the scorching sun searching for insects, flowers, leaves, kittens, puppies in the gullies of Malleshwaram. 
• I would wait for my dad to come home so that he could take me out to buy me a softy ice- cream from MTR. 
• I would wait for that time in the evening when my grandmother would light up the lamps, incense sticks and recite prayers. 
• I would wait for the neighbors to head out so that I could steal raw mangoes from their tree. 
• I would spend countless hours plotting my next prank.
• I would have fantasies about going on rides in fun world and eating cotton candy. 
• I would wait for sunday evenings to watch a Kannada movie airing on DD1 with my family. 
• I would wait patiently to see if small change was lying around so that I could go buy the unhealthy lolly- ice candy. 
• I would patiently wait for a mosquito to let its guard down so that I could take pride in killing it. 
• I would wait for nights when my dad would take me to the railway station and feed me thair sadam (rice with yogurt) with pickle as we watched trains jostle by. 
• I would wait to go to my grandmother's house so that I could demand her to tell me stories from morning till night. 
• I would wait to come back from school so that I could watch cartoons on Cartoon Network with my sister and argue about who gets Dexter. (We both had a crush on Dexter from Dexter's lab.)

Materially I had nothing. I was in school, carefree, did not give a s*$# about my identity, did not feel bad that guys took no notice of me, did not care about my grades and performance. Yet I was rich with - happiness, innocence, naiveness, bustling energy, naughtiness, imagination. I had everything I ever wanted in life.

It sucks to grow up and fend for myself. It sucks to have a real understanding of the world. It sucks to know that I have become cynical about a lot of things in life. It sucks to know that I don't possess the richness I had, 12 years ago. 

The positive outcome of going and seeking help for depression has helped me reconnect with my childhood. I have a clearer perspective about the things I want in life. I am in the process of rediscovering the child buried deep within me. I have learned the value of small experiences.

Most importantly I have realized the value of having a wonderful childhood in Bengaluru, for giving me priceless memories to cherish for a lifetime. I miss home.