An Oxymoronic Existence

If I were to write my autobiography, it will be a confused volley of emotions. I’m a narcissist by definition in any religion, culture or language this world has seen. I love so many things about my personality that it might just be a borderline crime in some countries. In fact some may find it immoral to digest that I have thought of marrying myself (only for my intellect, mind you) but stopped short of going the whole hog. When this world is not yet ready to accept same sex marriages, I wonder that marrying oneself might be considered ahead of its times.

Yet there is one aspect about me which I hate to the core. It’s my beloved zodiac sign. Actually that came out a bit harsh. It’s not really hatred per-se, but more of a love-hate relationship. But much like Mr. Pareto taught me during MBA, its 20% love which dramatically results in 80% hatred. As a child, I could never figure out why I am the only zodiac sign with the name of a life threatening disease. I had a hard time digesting the jibes at school (although that did bolster my belief that I’m unique!).

If that wasn’t enough, I grew up to realize that my troubled teenage years were also a by-product of Cancerian attributes. A few discreet consultations with Ms. Goodman later, I realized that I’m doomed for life when it comes to relationships. While I will have the upper hand in writing romantic ballads, given the gift of gab and creativity, I will lose out to her on the count of mood swings. Honestly, which self-respecting, handsome and intelligent man would like to lose an argument to his girl only because his zodiac cursed him with a permanent PMS?

No wonder that I have never been ecstatic about the volatility of global stock markets or the daily fluctuations in forex. I have my own personal emotional mood cart to balance! In a way this helped me understand why Capital Markets Analysis 101 never excited me enough during MBA.

There are definitely many positives about my zodiac, lest we feel this is a bitching session. For starters, the writer in me would have never taken a life form had I been born under any other zodiac. The amazing gift of creativity that came with this sign perhaps single-handedly shoots down the collective negative aspects. However it also puts my personality at loggerheads with my creativity. There is always an internal debate raging whether it is my creativity or intellect or so many other things that attract women to me. What is noteworthy about being a Cancer citizen is that I’m highly intuitive and imaginative. This aids me in my writing as well as ideation – both of which I can pretty much do on a 24×7 basis.

(Euphoric mental note to self – pay homage at the shrine of Narcissus)

(Reply from Brain – learn to be more objective and less self-proclaimed when writing, please?).

I love the fact how Cancerians are nest birds by default. I equally hate how I have been living away from my original home for over a decade now. This presents a unique set of challenges in its own right. I take time to call any new city my home, and before I know it, the next city beckons me. The Crab in me craves change, yet is scared of it. I think God decided to mediate and create a balancing act for me. He gave me the blessing of a good memory that forms the basis for my story telling. It feels great to be able to hold conversations at a party with the numerous stories that I can piece together from my experiences.

It is an open secret that in the game of love, Cancerians are devoted, romantic and passionate. Now I am not trying to be a braggart here, but I can safely say that I’ve had my share of adulation from the fairer sex. What’s good is that love and a genuine relationship is home for me. When I met TBH^© I realized the gravity of this trait in me. While I’m no match-maker but I do know that some zodiac signs are more compatible with each other than others. I also know that it takes two to tango, so I would rather give credit to her than steal all of it myself.

For my life, I won’t be able to decipher how and why I was born under this sign (yeah Mom, I hear you. But I’m not keen to talk about ‘destiny’ right now). Secretly, I’m waiting for the day I get to meet my God. After all the pleasantries have been exchanged, there will be only two questions that will have a recurring theme in all our conversations – my zodiac and his.

Part II of this memoir awaits that meeting…..