How many of you believe that Friday the 13th will bring you bad luck? Or more interestingly, how many of you know there is word for describing fear of the number 13?
Really, there is a word for describing the fear and it is called Triskaidekaphobia. Now, the probability of this piece of info ever helping you win the jackpot or your dream job or any other great thing is about 0.0001%. Still, it is good trivia :-D!
Anyways, a few years ago, on some Friday the 13th, during one of those frequent day-dreaming, eyes-glazed over, thinking modes I indulge in, I was wondering about the rationality of feeling scared about the particular number 13. Why not 2 or 41 or 895645. Even more weirdly, how can you be worried about some date because it bears a particular number and falls on a particular day? But I guess that's why the fear is called a phobia.
Then I thought about how, because there is a negative connotation associated with it, using the number 13 is actually a form of discrimination in any situation where a number can be assigned to a person. That got me thinking about how, of all possible situations where an individual can be assigned a number, being born on a 13th is something which the individual has absolutely no control over.
"Oh those poor souls born on the 13th. They are stuck with the number all their life. Hmm, I do like the number 13 though," went my brain. Soon I started thinking of "close" people I knew who were born on the 13th. I thought and thought but could not come up with anyone. I knew I was missing out on someone I knew really well but couldn't put my finger on the person. Finally I gave up. Oh well, it would come back to me eventually.
Some fifteen minutes later it hit me. I was born on March 13th!
Happy Friday the 13th folks! 13th usually works great for me and by association, will work great for all of you reading this post :-)!
Showing posts with label Phobia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phobia. Show all posts
Friday, April 13, 2007
Monday, August 14, 2006
All creatures great and small
As I have indicated before in this blog, my sister and I have always been brought up to think that women and men are equal. Given this, I usually do not like to exhibit stereotypical overly feminine behavior like the I am a delicate-darling act, the Ooooh somebody protect me - I am so helpless act, the I can't do that because I am too weak act and so on.
However, in spite of making very conscious efforts to not be so, there is one area where I can compete strongly with the most feminine of the femininest. I absolutely, totally and unequivocally abhor household pests and creepy-crawlies of any kind. They just gross me out and - I admit - I am scared stiff of them.
(Note: If you are averse to reading about creepy-crawlies, now would be a good time to stop.)
You would think that this whole fear of household pests is a trait that runs in my family. I doubt it. Since my early childhood days, I remember my sister and my mom (they never even thought it necessary to involve dad in such trivial tasks) bravely vanquishing the occasional cockroach and centipede while I stood quivering on the nearest surface which was high enough off the floor. My worst nightmares were ones in which I was attacked by a (yes, a single, normal-sized one was enough) flying cockroach while I futilely stood on a chair trying to avoid it. Cockroaches for some reason were (and still are) my most feared creepy-crawlie.
Life was bright and happy while I was at home. I could get rid of ants and mosquitoes myself with impunity. For other pests, I could always count on one of the other three members of my house to come to my rescue if I was "attacked" by any of them.
The only time when my nightmares almost came true was when Shilpa, yeah my dear friend, landed up at school one day with a cockroach in a film-roll box (with two tiny holes on the top so that it could breathe!!!). Basically she had captured it at her house and thought it would be good fun to show it off to me among other things. Needless to say, it freaked me out completely. She jokingly told me that she would let it down my back when I wasn't looking. I was so horrified that I declared that I would never talk to her ever again if she did anything of the sort. Mercifully, she didn't let it down my back. Thank God, she didn't - I am quite confident that I would have never spoken to her again if she had (I would have died of fright most probably).
So anyways, as I said, I lead a happy, sheltered life at home. Then it was time to move to the hostel when I joined undergrad. I was dropped off at the hostel by my parents late in the evening of the day I joined it. Of my other room-mates, only S had also arrived. We both shyly exchanged introductions. Then, S set up her bed and went off to sleep.
I was about to follow suit when I noticed the open window and decided that I would shut it before going to bed to minimize the noise from the corridor. I reached for the ring on the shutter to pull it shut. Then, just before they touched the ring, my fingers froze. What I had assumed was a ring was actually a coiled caterpillar. Oh my God! A caterpillar - yuck, yuck, yuck!
Of course, things like throwing it out myself never even occurred to me as an option. Instead, without giving a second thought to the fact that I had met her for the first time only some 30 minutes previously, I shook the soundly-sleeping S awake. She got up with a start and stared at me with sleepy eyes. And I told her matter-of-factly "There is a caterpillar on the window sill. You have to get rid of it" and thrust a piece of waste-paper into her hand and retreated to the other end of the room. S could scarcely believe the kind of nutcase she had had the misfortune of becoming the room-mate of! Anyways, she threw the caterpillar outside and retreated back to bed.
Anyways, given that my legendary shyness did not include not asking almost-complete strangers for help in getting rid of pests, I managed fairly okay in hostel too. As the other folks got to know me, they realized that whenever I stood on a bed gesticulating wildly, it meant that some creepy crawly was near at hand!
Once I moved to the USA, mercifully, there were not too many instances when I had to encounter these pesky creatures. I remember though, sometime last year, when my friends and I visited another friend J.
J had moved into a new place which had a humongous chimney. For some reason, this chimney attracted cockroaches and a couple of them seemed to be descending into the room too. You can imagine my plight. I became quite hysterical when someone just suggested that a cockroach might hop onto to the bed I had taken refuge in (is there a word for fear of cockroaches?). Phew, that was one loooooooooong night. I am surprised that J still invites me to her home after all my whining of that night (thank God, she has moved to a nice apartment now).
Why all this occured to me is because, today, at work, I was busy reading up some stuff on the computer when something fluttered past my face. I glanced sharply to my left. My throat went dry when I saw a moth sitting on the cubicle wall. Then, as though to announce its presence grandly, the moth gaily fluttered past my head again and landed at some out of sight spot in my cubicle. Yuck, yuck, yuck! I nimbly jumped out of my chair and hopped into my colleague V's neighboring cubicle.
Gathering up all the dignity I could, I smartly asked him, "Do you know how to get rid of moths?" V was like, "Why?". And I went, "Er.. there is a moth in my cubicle." "Oh, be sure you don't send it into mine when you are chasing it away," said V and went back to his work. Aaaaarghh.
I went back to my desk to my cubicle and sat in my chair. Two minutes later, the moth flew towards my face. I jumped out of my chair and was back in V's cubicle in a jiffy. This clearly wasn't the time to think of dignity. So, this time, I went, "Can you pleaaaassssse get rid of the moth for me?" V gave me a 'I can't believe you' look and then a broad grin, and went into my cubicle and swatted the at the moth with a magazine. The moth escaped and flew far, far away. "Thank you," I said in a dignified voice and marched back to into my cubicle. Fortunately V is also a good friend of mine so hopefully this story should not spread too much in the office circle.
I know all of us exist on this planet for a reason. If God wanted to make creepy-crawlies, I am sure He had as good a reason for that as He did for making humans. I am only asking that our lives be parallel and that our twines never need meet!
However, in spite of making very conscious efforts to not be so, there is one area where I can compete strongly with the most feminine of the femininest. I absolutely, totally and unequivocally abhor household pests and creepy-crawlies of any kind. They just gross me out and - I admit - I am scared stiff of them.
(Note: If you are averse to reading about creepy-crawlies, now would be a good time to stop.)
You would think that this whole fear of household pests is a trait that runs in my family. I doubt it. Since my early childhood days, I remember my sister and my mom (they never even thought it necessary to involve dad in such trivial tasks) bravely vanquishing the occasional cockroach and centipede while I stood quivering on the nearest surface which was high enough off the floor. My worst nightmares were ones in which I was attacked by a (yes, a single, normal-sized one was enough) flying cockroach while I futilely stood on a chair trying to avoid it. Cockroaches for some reason were (and still are) my most feared creepy-crawlie.
Life was bright and happy while I was at home. I could get rid of ants and mosquitoes myself with impunity. For other pests, I could always count on one of the other three members of my house to come to my rescue if I was "attacked" by any of them.The only time when my nightmares almost came true was when Shilpa, yeah my dear friend, landed up at school one day with a cockroach in a film-roll box (with two tiny holes on the top so that it could breathe!!!). Basically she had captured it at her house and thought it would be good fun to show it off to me among other things. Needless to say, it freaked me out completely. She jokingly told me that she would let it down my back when I wasn't looking. I was so horrified that I declared that I would never talk to her ever again if she did anything of the sort. Mercifully, she didn't let it down my back. Thank God, she didn't - I am quite confident that I would have never spoken to her again if she had (I would have died of fright most probably).
So anyways, as I said, I lead a happy, sheltered life at home. Then it was time to move to the hostel when I joined undergrad. I was dropped off at the hostel by my parents late in the evening of the day I joined it. Of my other room-mates, only S had also arrived. We both shyly exchanged introductions. Then, S set up her bed and went off to sleep.
I was about to follow suit when I noticed the open window and decided that I would shut it before going to bed to minimize the noise from the corridor. I reached for the ring on the shutter to pull it shut. Then, just before they touched the ring, my fingers froze. What I had assumed was a ring was actually a coiled caterpillar. Oh my God! A caterpillar - yuck, yuck, yuck!Of course, things like throwing it out myself never even occurred to me as an option. Instead, without giving a second thought to the fact that I had met her for the first time only some 30 minutes previously, I shook the soundly-sleeping S awake. She got up with a start and stared at me with sleepy eyes. And I told her matter-of-factly "There is a caterpillar on the window sill. You have to get rid of it" and thrust a piece of waste-paper into her hand and retreated to the other end of the room. S could scarcely believe the kind of nutcase she had had the misfortune of becoming the room-mate of! Anyways, she threw the caterpillar outside and retreated back to bed.
Anyways, given that my legendary shyness did not include not asking almost-complete strangers for help in getting rid of pests, I managed fairly okay in hostel too. As the other folks got to know me, they realized that whenever I stood on a bed gesticulating wildly, it meant that some creepy crawly was near at hand!
Once I moved to the USA, mercifully, there were not too many instances when I had to encounter these pesky creatures. I remember though, sometime last year, when my friends and I visited another friend J.
J had moved into a new place which had a humongous chimney. For some reason, this chimney attracted cockroaches and a couple of them seemed to be descending into the room too. You can imagine my plight. I became quite hysterical when someone just suggested that a cockroach might hop onto to the bed I had taken refuge in (is there a word for fear of cockroaches?). Phew, that was one loooooooooong night. I am surprised that J still invites me to her home after all my whining of that night (thank God, she has moved to a nice apartment now).
Why all this occured to me is because, today, at work, I was busy reading up some stuff on the computer when something fluttered past my face. I glanced sharply to my left. My throat went dry when I saw a moth sitting on the cubicle wall. Then, as though to announce its presence grandly, the moth gaily fluttered past my head again and landed at some out of sight spot in my cubicle. Yuck, yuck, yuck! I nimbly jumped out of my chair and hopped into my colleague V's neighboring cubicle.
Gathering up all the dignity I could, I smartly asked him, "Do you know how to get rid of moths?" V was like, "Why?". And I went, "Er.. there is a moth in my cubicle." "Oh, be sure you don't send it into mine when you are chasing it away," said V and went back to his work. Aaaaarghh.
I went back to my desk to my cubicle and sat in my chair. Two minutes later, the moth flew towards my face. I jumped out of my chair and was back in V's cubicle in a jiffy. This clearly wasn't the time to think of dignity. So, this time, I went, "Can you pleaaaassssse get rid of the moth for me?" V gave me a 'I can't believe you' look and then a broad grin, and went into my cubicle and swatted the at the moth with a magazine. The moth escaped and flew far, far away. "Thank you," I said in a dignified voice and marched back to into my cubicle. Fortunately V is also a good friend of mine so hopefully this story should not spread too much in the office circle.
All things bright and beautiful,
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
- C. F. Alexander
All creatures great and small,
All things wise and wonderful:
The Lord God made them all.
- C. F. Alexander
I know all of us exist on this planet for a reason. If God wanted to make creepy-crawlies, I am sure He had as good a reason for that as He did for making humans. I am only asking that our lives be parallel and that our twines never need meet!
***********
Tomorrow is August 15.
Tomorrow is August 15.
Happy Independence Day :-)!
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