Through a haze

                       It is a great affliction, sensitivity. In milder doses it can be construed as soft-heartedness or even genuine warmth. But when it is present in copious quantities within one's mind and spirit, it becomes a dead-weight that is of no value but has to be lugged around nevertheless. It complicates normal existence and makes for a difficult companion.                       Taking myself as a case in point, sensitivity has resulted in the categorical exclusion of a number of seemingly innocuous things from my life. First to go was the meat of mammals. Having witnessed an act of butchery, it was no longer possible for me to continue ingesting red meat. Even though I sincerely tried, every time I put a morsel into my mouth I found myself tasting blood. And thus my range of edibility narrowed considerably.            ...

Yes, I lead a charmed life. It had not come to my notice until someone pointed out that opportunities keep presenting themselves to me as and when I require. To quote: 'it's as if you have a personal genie allotted to you just waiting to do what your mind bids'. Flattering, as it may sound, this does not come without it's share of pitfalls. One of these is not having any control over the kind of people I have to interact with. Of late I have become more reclusive, less inclined to talk and altogether less gregarious than I was before. I no longer seek human company and warmth as I have come to believe that it finds me, circumstances notwithstanding. This change in personna has allowed me the liberty to observe those around me and I am quite shocked at the results. One of the main things that I have noticed is people's innate need for appreciation and approval and my utter obliviousness for the same. Be it colleagues at work who are hankering for attention at wo...