Of humiliation and hats

She felt as if their collective stupidity now gripped her slender brown neck to asphyxiate her.

This was one part of her extended family she never got: crass and humiliating in their unique ways.

She felt alone; the clichéd ‘even in a room full of people’ kind. She never understood why she had to put up with humiliation in the name of catching up with the family.

Oh what the hell, she thought.

Everyone seemed to tap into her she-assumed-was-hidden-in-her-closet insecurity. And oh how she detested that feeling. All her childhood years spent pretending not to hear taunts and sneer comments, they all gushed across her consciousness, washing away with them all she’d been sure of until now.

No mistaking it, she was beautiful, confident and quite the intimidating deal when it came to competition: she was the type who could kill a moose with bare hands. Except she ain’t no Sarah Palin.

But she did wear glasses, a pair of black librarians, the type an uptight, conservative girl living in a helm-till-the-knee parallel universe. Defying yet another constant, she lived in Milky Way! The helms were five inches and a quarter above the knee. She lived to defy her own initial definitions of stuff should be done: they were too small for someone who… Was her. As she grew up and formed a new batter of ideas, she baked a creamier cake and made it look pritty irresistible for someone who gets high on sugar too easily.

Such an infidel, aren’t ya? Enjoying while she’s stuck with the swine-headed? Wait till she attends another reunion this fall. For now, she’s sticking to positioning herself in another plane in a dimension in a parallel universe,

Edwin A. Abbott's Flatland is set in a world o...

Edwin A. Abbott’s Flatland is set in a world of two dimensions.

any other but this one, she swears, while the humiliation continues to fall over her head in fractal swirls.

The attention, the people never got away from her, making her feel lesser by the minute. It’s like the magic potion that made Alice grow smaller, but alas; how she wished she could fall down a rabbit hole! And meet a Mad Hatter! Hats were a wardrobe essential: the madder, the merrier.

Tides of faceless crowds ebbed and hit a high. Sometimes, they ceased altogether.

As she struggled to hold the fortress together, tears burned the back of her eyes. The catch in her throat made her wonder who was writing all of this.

Why did people exist?!

(Rhetorical, of course.)

No… Seriously. Now she wanted an answer or two. WHY?

Stupid schoomers who born to be human roadblocks to everything she did.

No, she didn’t hate people. She only wished they were nicer.

She never understood why people had to be two-faced and why they had to go raping everyone else’s dignities on a ‘Let’s-screw-SOME-PEEPS!’ rampage.

Or why they had to act like cold stale dough. Hard all the way through and sprinkled generously with a nose-punching stink.

Some say she was too naive. Others prefer dumb. She liked to think of it all as what made you human and likeable and affable.

Remember kindergarten? She sure did. How sharing crayons made two toddlers smile, how a slide would become a point of strategic discussion and planning for warfare.

You smiled because you wanted to. You laughed with everyone because you could, and everyone was nice.

Nice.

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6 thoughts on “Of humiliation and hats

  1. If I were reading this in a paperback, these are a couple of really interesting descriptors I would underline with my pencil: “…while the humiliation continues to fall over her head in fractal swirls.” , + “Or why they had to act like cold stale dough. Hard all the way through and sprinkled generously with a nose-punching stink.” (you’ve got that ‘cold stale dough’ in India, too? Must be universal, lol! ;)) Peace!

  2. Oh man, I always wish people were nicer!
    I like the last part, “You laughed with everyone because you could, and everyone was nice” I don’t understand when and why everyone stopped being like that

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