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Two Sides of Tolerance: Accepting Others

curleduptoes:

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Originally posted on A Quiet Week In The House:

Perfume

Not long ago, I enjoyed tea and pastry at my favorite bakery. A woman with dizzying perfume swept into a seat behind me. Her sharp, expensive fragrance slid over my table, invading each sip and bite I took.  Irritation engulfed me. I snatched up my notebooks and stomped across the room to pen a few ill-tempered paragraphs. When my tea tasted good again, I stole a glance at the perpetrator. Slim and sixtyish, she stiffened under my scrutiny.

I expected someone offensive and unlikable–a diabolical, slathering fiend, perfume bottle in hand, ready to shoot pungent fluids at my face.  Instead, a frail and self-conscious senior citizen nibbled a croissant.  Her red-and-black plaid pantsuit radiated as fiercely as her fragrance. She was the kind of woman who applies lipstick with a tiny brush and styles her improbable chestnut hair with precision. In a deserted bakery, she purposely chose the seat closest…

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Hospitals are places that you have to stay in for a long time, even if you are a visitor. Time doesn’t seem to pass in the same way in hospitals as it does in other places. Time seems to almost not exist in the same way as it does in other places.
Pedro Almodovar
Hospitals are creepy. Be it inhabited or not. But the level and effect of creepiness may not be the same in both the cases.

When its occupied with humans,the level of creepiness is too high, with all the disease and pain spread like plague, but it feels less awful. Or that’s what us humans feel, getting company from others n all, you see. The sense of belonging and man being a social animal, all that stuff. That’s true to some extent. When a person is admitted in a hospital, the condition and situation around is glum. It makes us feel low. All that unhealthy atmosphere tends to get to our nerves and the need to get out of the despair is too strong. But that’s not possible until the patient gets clean chit from the doctor. So till then, what must we do to feel better? Talk to others in the vicinity. Talk and unburden ourselves. We are programmed like that. To seek company where ever we go, sharing our sorrows and miseries with others and vice versa, thereby feeling better. Makes us forget the reason for which we are there, for a while. People who visit the patient make it look like a social gathering, a formal one, almost.Where there are people,there is nothing else to think of. This lessens the disturbing feeling, the actual ominous feeling of the place. Though, it lingers, always.

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On the contrary, in abandoned or uninhabited hospitals, the scene is opposite. The once occupied rooms and spaces,now harbor the memories of those days. Some good, some bad. But believe me, the level of creepiness here is awesome! I mean it!The left over, beds, wheelchairs and some other items, you can almost see the patient sitting in those beds in light blue hospital robes, looking all frail and hopeful, at the same time and the near n dear ones, doing secret silent prayers to get well soon. It feels so weird to be at such places, but in a good way(note: I love horror). Silence is the only sound that fills the space most of the time, and occasionally when people like me, wander through, the creeking sounds of our shoes pull the heebie jeebies out of our own selves. We can almost hear the screech of rusty metal that would echo around the room if the handle were turned. The dingy, narrow staircases only adds to the ghostly feel. In the right kind of environment, virtually any object can take on a sinister aspect.

But the atmosphere is fascinating. Very. Sun rays finally get the permission to enter through the broken windows, when previously they were draped in curtains, giving the rooms a cool effect, and it suddenly feels different, standing in a sunny hospital. And you can actually feel it, the presence(if you know what i mean). Somehow you get the intuition that you are not supposed to create even the slightest of disturbances, as if you may wake ‘them’ up. It feels scary. It feels peaceful. It doesn’t expects anything from you. it lets you be, provided you let it be. When you leave the place, you leave some part of yourself behind.

Zak Bagans says - “I discovered that what most people call creepy, scary, and spooky, I call comfy, cozy, and home.” I feel the same. Occupied hospitals are way creepier than unoccupied ones. Like people, places also go through the agony. So what would you prefer, places that go through it or places that have faced it all and now stand alone, with nothing more to bear..

Places, while we may only pass fleetingly through them in our lifetimes, make us who we are. We build our societies around them and they change, grow and collapse just as we do. 

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387 Short Stories: Day 42: Story 42: The Ice Palace by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Originally posted on Of Books and Reading:

The Short Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald Title: The Ice Palace
Author: F. Scott Fitzgerald
Taken from the Collection: The Short Stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald

I was in Jaipur when I read this story. I had attended a session in which Sarah Churchwell, the author of Careless People, a story of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald was in conversation with Chiki Sarkar and I had to read a short story by Fitzgerald then. They were after all talking passionately about the invention of The Great Gatsby and it happens to be my favourite novel.

The Ice Palace is a modernist short story, so to say. It is about Sally Carrol Happer, a young woman, who is from the fictional town of Tarleton, Georgia and wants to get rid of boredom. She wants to experience more and see the world. The story is about her adventures, so to say and what happens thereafter.

In my opinion, no one…

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The Why Fact.

Why do you need people in your life, when you actually don’t need them. Why do you want things from them when you actually don’t want those things from them. Why is it so important to give importance to people who are not at all important. Why do you try to make people happy when they can be happy even if you don’t try. Why do you not do what you want to do. Why do you do what you don’t want to. Why do you want to be with people when you don’t want to be with them. Why don’t you ask yourself the questions that you need to ask. Why are you happy when you don’t have to be. Why are you not happy when you have to be. Why do you cry when you don’t have to. Why don’t you cry when you have to. Why do you want to be different when you are perfectly fine in being not different. Why can’t you be crazy when you can be. Why don’t you feel bored when you should be. Why do you seek happiness when without sadness there is no importance of happiness. Why do you still want to be free when you were born free. Why are you not in love with yourself when you are the only person who can love yourself selflessly. Why do you need to express when you need to be expressionless. Why do you have to speak when you don’t have to speak. Why is silence not as important as words. Why do you prefer lips instead of eyes, to express. Why do you have to ask so many questions when everything does not needs to be questioned.

Why have I not used question marks, when all that I have asked is questions. Why do I have to use question marks for all the questions that I ask?

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