alice's peephole

It seems to be quite shameful/embarrassing/uncool or somehow a taboo to express unhappiness. We seem to shy away from honesty, because who wants to be talked about for putting up a facebook status admitting you are lonely or afraid or something? That’s like giving people the license to judge you for not having friends or being carefree and oh-so-chic: checking in at bars & putting up annoying ‘selfies’. All in the attempt to be ‘cool’. Recently a very good friend called me cool. I asked him what he meant, because I really am not sure what that means, and I’m not sure I want to be ‘cool’. It seems to be such an effort – to dress up, to fit in, to do what everyone else thinks is cool, to do it in just the right amount. I know for sure I don’t fit that description of cool, and I’m hoping I will know what he meant soon. For now, I’m going to be quite uncool and talk about uncool things. These days I am filled with anger. Not at everything in general, I can be quite apathetic

“Are you a hill girl or a beach girl”, my friend asked me. I briefly considered, comparing my vacation in Goa to Bhutan. I am definitely a hill girl! Aside from a bothersome sun allergy and a tiresome shellfish allergy, beaches just don’t seem to – talk to me. I had coaxed my friends into this trip to Chikmaglur, a rushed plan interspersed with liberal amounts of emotional blackmail. Until Thursday, when my chief local tour guide informed me about the leeches to be found in abundance in the area, I gracefully told them to go ahead without me. After quite a few hours of entertainment at my expense, all parties realized I was seriously terrified of these blood-sucking monsters and assured me that there wouldn’t be any inside the house.   To calm my hysteria I was also helpfully informed that they were smaller than the ones ‘up-north’, that the ‘little fellows fell off on their own once they were done’ and how a cigarette burn or some salt will cut short their feast. Chikmaglur