My first and last recollection of ever being nervous; albeit a little vague, dates back to almost 18 years. Circa Christmas time and being a little angelic kid, I was roped in to play ‘Joseph’ in the Christmas Play. I remember standing behind the stage with an extreme case of stage fright. The class teacher walked up to me and told me that those in the crowd were also little kids, she told me to focus on them individually and then I would realize that I was better than them. I learned to harness the power associated with looking down upon people to my full advantage.This was the genesis; the metamorphosis into the ultimate narcissist.

The prerogative of being a narcissist is that its comparatively easy to mask ones emotions. Feelings of pain and sorrow can be kept at bay with the ‘Narcissistic block’. I can filter out detrimental emotions by thoughts of grandeur such as buying a new Rolex. By being able to have the upper hand on ones emotions, its comparatively easier to attain success albeit at a cost. But on the rare occasion when the narcissistic block fails you, one is left in limbo for he/she will be in unchartered territory. It actually breaks the person for not only are you not in control of your own situation but also beset with painful emotions.

At present I am passing through a similar stage, I am unable to block the grief, its the first death anniversary of my baby girl, my princess. She was and will forever be more important that everything else in life and hence thoughts of buying a new rolex or other images of grandeur cannot block the pain. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves even in the most diverse of situations, I remember going to hospitals for her regular checkups and I would propose to doctors on behalf of my grans, on one occasion we even had a red rose which she gave to a doctor. She somehow could differentiate between the sound of my jeep amongst a hundred others. She had a very good rapport with my sincere friends who too would pamper her with ice creams and chocolates. She was not my grandmother, she was my little daughter. At any point of the day I could turn to her for a big warm hug and presently thats what I find most wanting. I want to have a little baby girl of my own now, she would be christened Sara, after my princess. She would be daddy’s little girl; I would turn her into my own little Ann Coulter like I turned my pious old grandmother into a mischievous teenybopper. I know you are watching over me from above and I would just like to say that I miss you and still love you from the bottom of my heart. I reckon a temporary hiatus from the blogosphere is in order till I am back to my arrogant best.

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