I don’t usually blog about my family, but this Christmas kind of forced my hand. Me and my father went to our native place last Saturday, in our car, with me driving the whole way. We reached there around 6 in the evening. Earlier, he had agreed to come with me to the municipal office on Monday to make changes in my birth certificate (click here for more details). I was hoping to finally apply for my passport once that was done, so I could write the GRE exams. He never wanted me to write them, but eventually agreed.

Next morning, Sunday, I went to Kothamangalam to attend my classmates’ sister’s kids baptism. Got back home around 4pm. Normally, whenever I go to my native place, I end up having a lot of arguments with relatives. This time I didn’t want that to happen, cos it was Christmas afterall. I never really felt like that place was my real home. Too many people, especially during vacations. Still, I usually adjust, try to enjoy, eat, exercise, then head back to Jwalagiri, my second home (which honestly feels like my real home).

So today (Monday), I wake up and see my father still not up, still in his room, and it was already 11. Reason 1 for being pissed off. There were plenty of other reasons too, which I’m not putting on a blog. I got pissed off so badly and ended up arguing with him. He almost slapped me twice. We exchanged so many words we lost count, and kept fighting till 3pm. If there were an Olympics for Arguments, we’d probably have won at least a Bronze.

It all ended when I grabbed the car keys, packed my dress, and drove back to Jwalagiri. I drove so fast I reached in less than an hour (usually takes 1.5-2hrs). No one was “home”, but once I got there, I went into my sister’s room, looked in the mirror and said –This is home. I felt alone, it was silent, I couldn’t find anything to eat, but in the end, I was happy, and that’s what mattered.

I know, introvert much. In summary, I managed to fuck up my Christmas.