Hell’s poisoned platters against our Affordable Angels & HBO!
Hell has a way of arriving at our doorstep with urine yellow tiffin boxes (crammed with guilt, stained with shame, packed with pain) and then staying on to grimly watch us eat it all up, every single bit of it, so her cooking (yes I often think hell must be a female cook!) won’t be wasted. Then when the heart has been overstuffed with foul curdled curries, fried in stale oil, the soul pierced with poison, hell stalks away, leaving her soggy suppers like rat droppings on the floor of our self, beating it up every single minute with malice and regret.
When this party is alas in my watch I can only hold on by reaching out to the small, affordable angels that have already taken up residence inside those cracked little cottages of our self which atrophy arrogantly allows them to rent so they can take care of us. One wonders how much atrophy makes them pay up for those disheveled and derailed huts!
They come in a wondrous army of colors, shapes, objects, sizes, dresses, themes, dreams, treats, even addictions! Mine often comes like a cream and brown pigeon who sits on the terrace of a neighbour’s flat, when I am almost dying of despair over yet another malignancy of my making or not! This cleaner comes to gaze down at me with the sharp piercing power of innocence and is the only eye that I can look into inside my darkness. Then the terror begins to slink off!
Sometimes, or often it is the rose that will not stop displaying its newest dress – red as that of a harpy! To remind me that happiness is still living somewhere in my world, maybe not in my house right now, but close by!
Recently it turned out to be just good old HBO! I recently found out so many horrible things about Amazon Prime – the same old boring, dreadful, ancient, dusty, low cost debris from India and other places, while it pampers foreign customers with stunning new thrillers, superior stuff, while we are still waiting for Hereditary and even newer foreign gems!
Then Netflix too began to disappoint with too many not so hot thrillers, not so great television series and too much of easily missed stuff. I then realized I had missed out a mountain of HBO magic when I gave up my cable television two years ago. To avoid the rubbishy Indian soap operas there I also inadvertently ditched HBO!
Then I watched Nicole Kidman in Little Big Lies, in You Tube, and realized how I had been missing the best of television treats!
So I went back to HBO to watch the amazing world of True Detective 3, much better than the cheesy, disappointing second season, and was grabbed by magic! And as I gleefully wait to gobble up Sharp Objects, a chilling thriller with Amy Adams in it, and the second half of Game of Thrones, I can feel happiness edging towards me in small, delicate steps dictated by choice!
And so to go back to our affordable healers: for the recharging of our ruins, they charge nothing. They even cart away the mountains of trash that trauma and terror gurgle out and vomit. Then they, those nurses of nurture, mysteriously manage to plant a little something that is the green left over from that gold guzzled up by Hell to bake her fiendish feast!
What more can we ask for! How can we just give up?