Diary of a woman. On a bad day.

Generally on good days, most women including me are proud of their womanhood; proud of its complexities and many thrills. Then comes those atrocious days every month when we would give anything to trade places with any hairy smelly man on earth- the grand period variously known as ‘chums’, hell on earth etc.

I woke up today into one of those days. (waking up to it’s the worst thing; an entire day ruined in the very first blink) Time; 5:58. I curse all men and the entire universe, “Damn you all!” and stumble into the bathroom to change my clothes. I stand still there for a while, staring at the floor, reminding myself to breath, not to panic. All my senses are battle ready; picking up traces of pain germinating all over my body. I walk slowly back to my room. I could cry with sadness. I pop a pill into my mouth and swallow it with difficulty. The water repulses me; my insides are in a whirl. Oh why couldn’t there be a time machine to take me to the next day right now? What am I going to do? Nearly ten hours of intense perfect agony to be followed by more hours of minor agony lie in front of me. Aw.

Back in bed, its useless trying to sleep. The pain and anticipation of more pain is driving me into a rage. My legs are frozen and they hurt. My back hurts, I have Goosebumps all over and it feels like there’s construction going on in my womb. I twist and turn and think as always on these days of how lucky men are. I could slap any man who dares to appear in front of me today (especially well intentioned stupid ones who ask me if I have a headache and what’s wrong. Headache? Is that all they know of?!)

Maybe a change of scene will help I think and I lift myself up( going “ah, ah, ah, ow” with every step) and go sit on the back porch near the kitchen. Even the trees look gloomy to me. It’s as though Mother Nature is trying to remind me that I am a woman, aka baby machine. I can just hear her, “I get all the feminist stuff you say and the tomboyish things you do, but where are my babies??” Is all the pain a deterrent against wasting of precious baby making eggs churned out by my female specimen every month? Naah. Couldn’t be. Because pregnancy is an even bigger terror from what I hear. Well at least it will be over al at once. Now I am rambling. The pain killer seems better at the ‘side effects’ than the effect it’s supposed to have. What did I ever do to the world?

My grandma with whom I am staying comes over and asks me how I’m doing. I smile sadly and hug myself. Grammy goes inside and comes back holding her hand out. She puts it on my plam, and asks me to chew it; some ayurvedic medicine which looks like small misshapen peppers( I have to put it my mouth other wise I would have described it in other terms). I sit there on the steps chewing and drinking hot water my granny handed to me. There are ants lugging food into a tiny hole on the sand in front. I wonder if the ants are male. I have hot water in my hands. Muahahaha. Eh, probably not. My my. The travails of my life.