My Hate Story

जहाँ में ऐसा कौन है कि जिसको ग़म मिला नहीं

Bhavdeep Singh Chadha.. logging on to Blogger on a snap decision to stop thinking and write..

What to Write?

Damn it, Just write anything that is bothering my mind, body and soul the most and need immediate puke screaming out my system.

More that the speed of light and the pace of nervous impulses, there is only bloody thing:

"The Hatred in Me that Scares and Anger Me"

It's weird how the things I hate, which are forming the immediate mind note for this blog, are filling the shoes of everything I am scared of and this angers me to like no extent.

Hate.. Fear.. Anger..

Why do I Hate anything? 

What makes me Hate anyone? 

Why am I scared of anything or of anyone?

Why is there so much uncontrollable anger inside me?

Who am I really angry with and why has it reached this stage of writing?

What is it that makes my mind, soul, heart and body the imperfectly perfect host for anger to live and multiply?

Too many questions and if questions were a metal, I would have been a proud owner of the most powerful sword, even more stronger than ones honed by elves in the First Age. *SMH*

Questions when unanswered reminds me distinctly of two life lessons:

1) When not getting answers to your questions, it is time to ask the right question. Ask the right question if you're going to find the right answers.

2) Every question has a precursor which is chained to its seed. The chain may be small or big, but the seed will always be there. Just be sure you question the background correctly.

The first one above is probably an interpreted dialogue from a Hollywood movie, the name of which I am failing to recall. The second one, and the best one, is from my Guest Professor of English Language and Public Speaking in Bhartiya Vidya Bhawan, Mrs Gourang Lal. She said the same to me in one of nervous breakdown during Public Speaking moment inside the basic classroom.

Just to make her proud, and to live a peaceful and happy life, obviously, I want to vomit out all my hatred, all my anger and all my fears.

Strangely, writing about my fears truth-by-truth is making me courageous. And I see now, even to live a life of purpose is to die with contentment. I no more wish to bring changes in the world to be able to feel the contentment of living a life a purpose. I will smile when I am happy, let go of my tears when they show up in my eyes and heart. Bring smile to others when I am strong, find strength when I see someone weak. Scream "May Day" when it is so and let the mature do the rest around me.

Because nature surely keeps its balance.

दिन - रात

धूप - छांव

It is after a thunderstorm that a rainbow appears amidst clear sky brighten by strong sun.

But this blog.. this blog about my Hatred and I am angry with the fear of holding it back.

I hate myself a lot, despite knowing knowing that I do love myself. But there is so much in me, on me, over me, that makes me want to hate myself.

I am lanky; not slim, not even even healthy - accept it.

My arms are extremely thin, my chest and waist look like that of a malnutritioned, my thighs and legs too week for my age and have no 'circumference' at all. Combine it with my body and facial hair, I hate myself even more.

I have dark circles under the eyes I used to be very proud of once upon a time. My lips no more make me feel they are the best  asset of my physical appearance. My nose is weird with sensitivity problems. My ears are strange and I need serious ENT treatment.

Did I mentioned about my mouth and teeth. I hate them to the core. I feel my teeth are protruding and the bridge I wear has already ruined my life since second grade of junior school. And my gums also bleed. Aaargggghhh..

Oh, how can I forget about my hands and fingers. They are bony, full of hair and skeletons, with veins always showing on them.

Kill Me, God.. Kill Me..

I would say I kind of like my Neck but my beard hair spoil it completely to make an appearance of their own. So WTHeck!! Grrr..

My mustache is crappy and very yeti-like and I don't know ow to either maintain it or to trim it. It feels like it is now growing from my nose too. As for my beard, same shit again... It gets too bulky and heavy and spoils the entire look when tied because of the already shitty cheek bones on my face.

And I still wear a thread to tie by beard. Why the heck did I start with this? Because of my family, True. So that makes me averse to taking more things from my family. And I hate myself more on this as it keeps me at bay from the people I should be most close to, naturally. 

My Skin.. its yucky oily.. so it either goes super dry when I wash my face a lot or become Oil factory, giving competition to Gauri Khan.

My Jaw bone.. Hate it a lot.. It feels only bone, with no mass. What the fuck is that, you fucker - Mr Bhavdeep Singh Chadha!!

I don't like my naval. It has absolutely no shape. Weird gooey type. And my diaphragm actually shows because of my week body.

And to top it all,  or may I say, to be topped by a anyone - I have no ass. Forget about the bubble butt I dream about. And with that flat bums, its shitty hairy!!

I knees...they are so strange as if they are coming out, and its back side is super weak.

I have everything and every fucking thing for appearance to scare the crap put of anyone.

Yes, physical appearance is just a part of fucking "True Love" but it is the first thing that anyone and everyone will notice. But I am the Present life of Bhavdeep Singh Chadha and I suck at looks and even the clothes I wear - For God's sake, I have a badly constructed physical body to be wearing anything and everything which are made for those six pack equipped mannequins.

Shit I have small shoulder but long hands. Even holding my jeans below my naval looks like I am wearing way up the abdomen, if I am right with the words of human anatomy.

And I am not even tall. I want to be tall. Correction - I need to be much Taller.

And I either don't shag or I shag a lot. Making my body averse to any development for the good.

I hate my physical self and so I hate myself. This is what I see in the mirror and I am yet to grow out of the teenage mindset to grow out of the physicality of 'how I look' reality.

What to do?

I think I know.
I dont want to be a teenager any more.

It makes me moody. I want to be my 28 years old self, as of 2nd February 2017.