A Writing Exercise Among Friends

OK so I’m writing. I’m writing because I promised Rhitu I’d write and if I don’t write I’d owe her royalties for my unpublished (and as life would have it, as yet unwritten) book. So I’m writing.

I don’t have a topic per se, so I’m going to have to make one up. I just read Colin Nissan’s diary of a woman trapped inside a man’s body trapped inside a beaver’s body, so that topic’s out (terribly unfortunate). I've chosen this very moment to write about nothing, because in my mind, I haven’t spent enough time procrastinating today. I’m not panicked enough about the rapidly approaching deadline, but I’m pretty sure a wasted day will tackle that feeling head on.

Rhitu and I plan to write everyday. A pointless line, a rogue thought, unrelated words of imperfection—we’ve told each other anything will do (we’re very considerate that way). I’ve decided to post our (or at least, my) ramblings online, so my dedicated subscribers (shoutout to Ashish and Michael) might consider hitting the unsubscribe button. On to more promising pastures then …
Divya, 04.10.12

Today I sneezed up a storm. Spring allergies, or hay fever, they say. There’s pollen all over the place. There’s pollen in the air, pollen on cars, pollen on your hair, forming a light fluffy, dusty layer, a little like dandruff but slightly more friendly in appearance. Only it isn’t. Friendly, that is. Breathe in these harmless-looking, fluffy particles, and your immune system will mount a sudden battle against them, as did mine today. And you know what’s in store next.

To be fair, it isn’t the pollen’s fault. It didn’t ask to be breathed in. In fact, a trip up my nasal passages and down the rest of my respiratory system is for all practical purposes, a dead end for it. Its sole purpose in life—to pollinate—will now forever remain unfulfilled. All it wanted (and is meant to do) was to find a pretty flower of its own species and travel down its stigma, and fertilize an ovule, patiently waiting in the ovary for the pollen’s arrival. All of this just to ensure that the plant bears fruits/seeds and there is a next generation for its species.

Instead, it's ended up in my body, along with millions of other doomed pollen grains of goodness knows how many species. Now, they and my immune system are at battle with each other. And until my body can win the battle or just calm down, realizing that these are benign pollen particles meaning no harm to my body, I will continue to sneeze endlessly. And each time I sneeze, my friendly colleagues will patiently continue to bless me, as they did today.
Rhitu, 04.10.12

Breathe Easy

It’s amazing how much an overactive immune system can slow you down. For the last three weeks now, I’ve been plagued with allergies so bad, there are moments I can’t breathe, can’t swallow, and really can’t do much else. I’m now feeling very sorry for myself in a first-world sort of way.

Allergies are the result of an oversensitive immune system that misidentifies harmless organisms (think pollen, ragweed, mold) as terribly evil and sends out its armed forces to fight them. Non-allergy victims tasked with describing the condition will refer to symptoms as mostly inconvenient, but otherwise harmless. Mostly inconvenient is what happens when you put a slice of bread in a toaster and it pops back less brown than you’d hoped. Allergies are more than mostly inconvenient—they’re energy-draining, misery-inducing, life-sucking bastards. And they’re turning me into a very angry person—not at all a good look for me, in the spring or otherwise.

::growl::