A Formal Notice.

This is to declare that I am now officially polluted. And i dont have any qualms about it.

I leave it to you to infer it's meaning...

PS: My lungs are still clean.

But after all, maybe not……

So here I am, again. In the same old state that I have always been at the end of every semester exam. Filled with that feeling that I could have done much better. But this time there is something more to the story. It’s not just the guilt I hold about not putting in the required efforts. This time it is something more fundamental. It was something that I had assumed and taken for granted as part of me. But only to be proved wrong this time around.

Ever since I was able to think for myself, I have always been proud and happy about my grasping power and my intelligence. When I was a kid, there was nobody who could beat me in academics. I was the topper all the way. And as I grew up, I don’t know where things slipped out of my hands, but I began to witness my own decline into obscurity. I began to be just a shadow of the genius that I was. That brilliance, that zeal in me, slowly began to desert me. And I was left staring and gasping at all the horrid results that have gone my way ever since. There have been some opportunities for me to start all over again. But then I blew them all. Absolutely no enthusiasm in working for what would give me some success in whatever I was doing. I had no identity anywhere I went. I tried a few new things so I could start anew. But same old story. Things just seemed to end up in the drain.

And all the time I have spent days together introspecting and trying to find an answer to why all this was happening. And everytime I analyzed the things that had gone against me, I always ended up with the same inference. Mea Culpa. It was my own fault. There was no other explanation that could satisfy and explain all my failures for such a long time. My lack of discipline and my laziness to work had taken toll over all my success. My unwillingness to be regular had cost me dear on more than one crucial occasion. The mind control that I possessed, or to be more precise, the lack of it had dealt a fatal blow everytime I thought that I could somehow ‘pull it off’. Procrastination killed my spirit-every damn day of my life. And still here I am, still believing that I can pull it off from nowhere-just by my brilliance and intelligence!

And that was what I always hung on to like a life saver. I always believed that it was only the lack of my effort into studies that cost me all this. And that “if I studied”, I would be way ahead of others. Why? Simply because I was far more intelligent than all the guys around me and that I “would have studied”. But that never ever materialized. Semesters came and went, exams came and went, tests came and went, free time came and went but during all that time, there I was- just convincing myself-“don’t worry…if you study, you will be able to understand it.” And that IF never became anything else. I never studied and I still believed that I deserved the better grades simply because I knew I was the only one who was actually interested in the subject and that all others were just doing it just for the sake of it. But I never bothered to work. And I got depressed everytime I got my grades. Why the hell was I complaining? I don’t study anything and I expect good grades! Now how does that make sense?

And so all this time I have been blaming nothing but myself for all the failures that have taken place. I never held anyone or anything responsible for me screwing up my stuff. And all this time I genuinely believed that I was still capable of it- if I worked that is. I have been hanging on to that belief for dear life. And like I was saying, the only difference this semester was that my belief was proved wrong.

And that has rendered me desperate. It had been my lifeline for all these years of struggle and misery. And now I don’t even have that now. All I have with me is this new realization that I am not someone special. That I am just like any other. Maybe above average, but nothing more. I may have all the genuine interest in the world and I may know how to exactly lead one’s life. But what I also know now, is that none of that will count if I don’t actually do something about it. That one identity that I was still hanging on to is now officially invalid. Losing that one identity pained so much that I have become numb to it. There is nothing more in this life. And all I got right now with me is that true interest in my studies. But of course, this is an interest without the ability. And until something happens that makes me realize that I am indeed capable, I guess I have to live just with the interest.

So all this time I thought I was capable of so big things. But after all, maybe not……

Of Blood and Birthday - I

To be frank, this blog should have been put up some 3 weeks back. But me being me, I just kept on postponing things. And so in the end here I am actually typing this thing on my computer. So I am 21 now. Celebrated my birthday on 26^th last month- October that is. What took place that day was not something that I would have really anticipated. It was completely incongruous. But I guess that’s what made this birthday somewhat different. So here is what happened that day.

I was awake when the clock struck 12. A couple of my friends called me then. Then before I wished myself, I knew that I had to listen to some proper music that would really fit the mood and situation I was in. So there I was in my home, alone in the living room while my parents were sleeping upstairs. And I put in my Pink Floyd CD and listened to “TIME”. Just lost myself in the leads and in the lyrics. And as the song came to an end, I was no longer feeling that void in me. And then I went to sleep.

Morning came and all those whom I expected to wish me, called me and wished me. And I was happy about that. There were some, about whom I had just given a thought. And wondered what they would be thinking about me on that day. I was wondering because they were the people who I knew would not be calling.

But that was not my concern. My concern was the fact that I had absolutely nothing planned for that day. Nothing at all. No meeting up with friends. Nothing whatsoever. Ok my aunt and her family were going to come in the evening and we were going to cut my cake. But when it came to the day, I had nothing on my mind. So I called up my friend and he asked me to come to his college in the afternoon.

And so I went there and I met him and I met a few of my old friends from my Joseph’s PU College. And I was really happy to meet all of them. I went for a small treat with him and that was it. I came back home. There was nothing that I did apart from that. And so I waited for the evening. And it came. And my mom was preparing a special dinner. My dad was on his way and my grandparents would be coming soon and my aunt would be a bit late. And then something happened.

Another Year Down the Drain (???)

Ok. So I celebrated my 21^st birthday on the 26^th of October, that is, just a few days back. Whoever I expected to wish me did so. And I dont ask for anything more.Ya so it also simply means that I am 21 years old. And it also means that I am one more year older since my birth and more importantly, that I am one more year closer to my death. I was just thinking about all the things that I had promised myself that I would be doing in my 21^st year and all the things that I finally didn’t end up doing. And when I compared them, I found that the lists were simply matching to perfection.

I had simply done nothing that I had promised myself that I would on my 20^th birthday. But at the same time I did a lot of things that I hadn’t promised myself. And that’s a lot. My 21^st year was the abode to my worst semester for more than one reason. But in the end there were quite a lot of things that I rather think about than all those horrible things that I happened to do in that one horrible semester. Of course there will always be things that simply happen by themselves and you don’t have to do anything about it. All you have to do is to just allow it to happen. And there were many things that just “happened”.

The following are some of the more relevant things that just “happened”:

1) I grew by one more year.

2) I passed in two semesters.

3) I ended a close friendship with my school mate. ( For more info, read ‘Requiem for the past’)

4) My holidays got wasted.

5) I got internet in my hostel room.

6) I got my Driver’s License for car and two wheeler.

7) I made one new friend.

8) A lot of similar stuff…….

Ok so there you had it. Some of the relevant things that just happened to have happened. Now I will be giving you a list of all those things that I did and that really mattered. Now before I tell you those things, there is still something that I did that has simply changed the very way I think. And if it wasn’t for it, I would have still be living life thinking that we are going to die anyway, so why bother achieve anything now.

I read The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand. And trust me, there has been nothing more influential to me than what was conveyed in those two books. It is simply not enough that I just make a mention about it in this blog. I will be writing a complete blog just about that soon. And it will be something that will define me.

And for all the other stuff that I “did” in my 21^st year, here is the list:

1) I have now become part of something that has the potential to become something big in the near future.

2) I finally finished my original work that I had been secretly working on for the past few months.

3) I smiled because I had in my hands something that was mine- something that was completely from my own thinking.

4) I have more or less decided that I will be pursuing soil engineering for my higher studies.

5) I realized that I am more happy here with my new group of friends than what I was in my previous academic year.

6) And in the end I realized that preparation really pays.

This is not one of the better blogs that I have written. But I just have a lot of things to say. This was just the beginning of the many blogs that I will be writing within this week.

Like I said, there are many things that just happen and there are many things that you make happen. And life is all about having both of them in the right proportions.

Another year down the drain? I will leave it to you to figure out. But whatever may have happened in my 21^st year, one thing that I am damn sure about is that I am atleast, much much wiser than what I was one year back. And I will definitely gain a lot from that.

22^nd year is already under way. But what does it mean? Or rather, what will I make it mean?

Whatever it be, it wont be another year down the drain next time on….

Of Rain and Football…

I have revealed my fondness to deal with facts in many of my previous blog posts. The following are also facts:
1) I have played a maximum of 50 hours throughout my childhood.
2) There have been many instances when I haven’t played for years together at a stretch.
3) I was always discouraged to go out and play by my parents. There have been many instances when I had to lie to my parents as to why I came home later than usual when all the time I was having the time of my life in some playground playing with my friends.

Like I said, these are facts. I have not tried to exaggerate anything here. And right now I will continue to state facts. It was only after my 2nd puc that I began to play. I found this bunch of guys of my age who were playing football near my home in a playground. I was driving my vehicle that time. Usually I don’t stop for anything when I am driving. But by then, I had become this crazy football buff that I couldn’t resist. So I stopped and went and asked them if I could join them. They said they didn’t have any problem. And there you go, that was when I started to play again.

Soon I started to go there frequently and so I got to know them better. But still I never really got into the game. How do you expect someone who has hardly played anything till then in his entire life, to play something like football very well? I was sad at playing football. I was very easily the worst player among all those who came there to play. I scored a few own goals, let the ball go through my legs, handled the ball conceding penalties, mis-kicked the ball on more than one occasion, and well- I did a lot more. And I knew that every day that I went there to play football, I would end up doing the same or perhaps something worse. But then I didn’t stop going. Whatever I was doing, whatever pathetic football that I was playing, as far as I could see, the only thing that mattered to me was that I was still playing football. And as long as I was doing that, I didn’t care as to how I was playing it. I was just happy to go there everyday and run around the ground marking forwards and denying them the chance to score, or just running around and hoping that I somehow get the ball and that I may get to make a crucial pass which may end up in goal. It has happened on a few occasions. But then, I was happy with what I got.
And while all this was happening, I realized that I wasn’t really playing that frequently at all. And then when I came to the hostel for my college, I hardly played. I managed to get into some arbit game of football now and then, but nothing concrete at all. I was quite disappointed with all that. 2 years had passed and I hadn’t played anything.

And then enter 3rd year and I knew that this would be different. I was going to live with a whole different group of friends altogether. And these were the ones who played football regularly.

And I played football. It was not so much as to how I played than the fact that I was playing. I was running around madly tiring myself quickly but nevertheless I kept on running. I was sweating and panting with only half an hour into the game. I said to myself, “ What hell? This is what I play for!” And so I continued to run around. I played approximately about 2 hours continuously. I was tired. And I was happy.

And so I played regularly. At least 3-4 times a week. There have been instances when I am playing and I look up to the sky. And I see lots of clouds. And then I pray for the heavens to open up. And on more than one occasion, it has rained. So there I am, running around the ground. There I am sweating myself out. And then, it rains.

Those who have played some sport in the rain will be aware of the sensual pleasure it gives to the one who is playing. The first sense of the rain falling down on you, the subsequent downpour, the experience of getting drenched in that rain, and all the time, you are doing something that you should have done way back in your childhood. That, man, made me happy. That was what I live for. That, was why I still believed that happiness exists on this planet.
And now everytime they go out to play, I make sure that I go play as well- irrespective of whether I have a test the next day or not. And I don’t have any repents if that has cost me anything till now. Because you see, I am just making up for all the times that I had lost. Who said that it is in your childhood that you play the most and enjoy the most? Who said that as you grow older, you get more worried and so you can’t live and enjoy like a kid? And who said that those who haven’t played in their childhood have lost a lot?

Well, I can tell you this much. I am 20 years old and I am now coming to know what it means to play. And I am happy. I don’t care if I played less than what a dog plays in its first year of living, I don’t care if all that I have won in sports in my entire life was a 3rd place finish in a tricycle race in my UKG, I don’t care if my parents robbed me of my childhood by brainwashing me that the only thing worthy on this planet is studies and that playing is something only bad kids do, I don’t care if everytime I go out to play I happen to score an own goal, I don’t care if I happen to break my wrist when I fall while playing and I don’t care a damn everytime I see some 8 year old kid playing better football than what I do now.

All I know is that I am on the ground and that I am playing football. And I also know that sometimes it rains and that I love to play in the rain. And so as long as I happen to keep playing football, and as long as there exists even a slight possibility of rain, all I know is that you will find me happy- like a kid.

A Day At Chennai

Question: What do you get when you take a big bunch of really enthusiastic 20 odd year olds, put them on a journey to the biggest Metro in south India, add a few dashes of waiting, a tinge of hunger, a little lack of sleep, some dragging of luggage, and amidst all this, somehow put Me to add to all the anarchy that was already in place?
Answer: You get my trip to Chennai; and the realization that the above question is a gross understatement of what exactly happened there.

The journey to Chennai is best forgotten for all the right reasons to forget it. It included standing for over 3 hours even before “The Journey” had even begun. Next in line was the entry into the bus. Ok, there was no hassle in entering the bus. Just that after entering, I realized that the manufacturers of the bus had unanimously decided to maximize the number of seats that can be crammed in a bus of the usual size. And to be frank, they had actually done a good job at that. How was I to know that soon I would actually be changing the bus into a bus, which was manufactured by people who had made up their minds to come out with the maximum number of seats that can be shoved into the bus, without regard to the fact that the legs are also part of the human anatomy? And as all of us boarded the “New” bus, we realized that it is best not to let our actual feelings and opinions be known to others. So we all kept quiet. And we slept.

Well at least that’s what we tried to do. Some were successful, some weren’t. Those who were successful, I believe, had some prior experience in making sure that they shift the positions of their neck and skull at regular intervals so that they don’t wake up in the morning not being able to feel their own brain. I was one among them. Unfortunately not many were aware of this very precious funda. So some tried in vain to sleep amidst the entire "happy crowd” singing Anthakshari. No not that these other people were sad or anything. Just that most of them were really tired and would have appreciated some good uninterrupted sleep. But that was not to be. So either they didn’t sleep at all or had an hour’s sleep as a result of the sum total of all the 135-seconds sleep that they were able to manage to dig up from their sleep reservoir at arbit intervals. Anyway we reached Chennai at around 9:30 in the morning. And then I was told that I had to walk about a mile carrying the entire luggage that I had got from my home! And that weighed not much-just over 30 kilos!

And the first thing that you realize as soon as you step in Chennai is that God made sure that people really know the true meaning of the term ‘humidity’. I was dragging my luggage, which bore more resemblance to an obese corpse, with whatever energy I had managed to save by my precious sleep. And somehow I made it into some place that I was supposed to go.
And I didn’t exactly feel that I was at home. Probably I was not supposed to feel at home. So there I was, having traveled more than a kilometer dragging my fat luggage along and I was told that I had about 15 minutes to freshen myself up and get ready to go the place which had been the very purpose of my visit. Ok I am all excited to go there and witness something big and I put all my enthusiasm in trying to brush and wash my face with some soap I had bought along the way. And somehow I succeed. And then I come down to be told that I am almost late and that I am to hurry up to that place.

What about breakfast? I had a Samosa worth 5 bucks in some cheap place and that was it. How was I to know that that was all that I would be having till about 6 in the night? Well later I would realize that there were people in a worse state than what I was. People who hadn’t even had that one Samosa. And that way I considered myself quite lucky. And after all the anguish that I had been through, I finally reached that place that I was supposed to go and I reached it about 10 minutes late- only to be told that the whole thing would be delayed by about 2 hours. But then I was to sit there and do nothing but wait and wait and after all the waiting was done, all I had to do was more waiting.

And during all those time, I was with my close friends (read as fellow sufferers).We were all united in protest of the denial of the most basic human right- the right to eat! But of course we all had the courtesy and dignity to keep the protest a silent one-lest anyone come to know of our desire to eat and thereby chuck us out of the hall. I spent those times pulling my friend’s legs over her not having eaten anything and not having slept properly for a long time. (I really feel I should have told her about the cake I had for my cousin’s birthday)

And then at around 12:45 PM, it happened. No. I didn’t have food. But something better happened. And it lasted for about 5 hours. And it is something that has kept me wishing for more. All those suffering, all those pain that I went through in getting myself to sit in that place suddenly seemed to be all worth it. How was I to know that things would only get better and better from then on? How was I to know that what happened in those five hours would go a long way in determining my future? I just now said that it was all worth the pain. Now I will go one step ahead. I say that what happened there demanded all the things that I went through. And I am happy that I was there to see all of it take place.

That night I left for the Chennai Central railway station. My train was not due until the next day noon. And I didn’t have any place to stay. I just needed to spend one night in some place and I couldn’t find any. So I spent it at the station itself. And in the next blog post you will hear about my adventures with things ranging from deficiency of food to newspaper beds to non-existent criminals and bag lifters. Like you will know, it all happened in One Night @ the Chennai Central.

The Moratorium on Brains

Now this is something that really goes a long way describing the kind of world I am living in and the kind of world I want to live in. This took place just a few days back at my Fluid Mechanics lab.

Now my batch has got these 3 teachers for the lab course, all of whom are amateurs. No I am not trying to degrade them- not yet at least. Now to summarize the situation of the lab, it will be sufficient to say that there are not more than 3 people in the entire class who really know or have any desire of knowing what is going on exactly in the experiments. I have no qualms in stating that I am one of those 3 people. I do not consider it a crime to do the right thing or to be interested in the right things.

So here I am in the lab surrounded by people who are just waiting for the bell to ring so they can get out and lead whatever they choose to call as life during their free time. And I submit the experiment that I had conducted last week. While computing the value for the required parameter, I found that I had got a large difference in the values of the parameter found out graphically and analytically. And I had discovered that the reason was not some error in the reading or in the calculations. It was something more fundamental. It was in the very derivation of the formula. In the end, I realized that the vast difference was due to the assumption of a convenient value for the power of a certain other parameter. And I realized that whatever result I was getting through graph was not wrong in actuality. It was actually through the graph that one should interpret the result. At the time of me discovering this, I had a very memorable moment actually comprehending the beauty of the concept.

And so I let the values stay in the record book. And I submitted it to the instructors. And I had put in extra efforts to write the record. I hadn’t copied a single word. I made it as neat as I could do it. And in the end it came out quite well I should say. I was happy with myself when I gave that record.

And so after some time, the teacher calls me and asks me to explain the difference in the values. I begin with lots of enthusiasm. I really felt happy to narrate her the amazing experience I had when discovering the subtle concept. And to my shock, all the 3 teachers are just staring at me as if I am out of my senses and that i am somebody who cant understand the subject. I was trying to make them see the beauty of the situation. But all the response that I get is that I should have “manipulated” the graph to fit the values of the analytical results!

I quickly replied-“ Mam, I could have manipulated anytime and got the value of the analytical result. But I just left it as it is. I did not want to manipulate the readings.”

And then she reminds me that I had been asked to manipulate the readings in the graph on a previous occasion as well. I try to convince her that the very way the experiment is conducted is not right. But all I find is that I am talking to just some sort of human forms who have everything human except the ability to reason. I make an effort to help them see the situation as it was seen when the experiment was conducted 4 centuries ago and what the person tried to convey. I was trying to make them realize that the very purpose of a laboratory course was being defied. But the only response I could muster from them was that I was being asked to change the graph to fit the values.

And in the end it came down to authority and position. I was sidelined and was awarded 7 on 10. 7 on 10 while others who had copied the entire stuff they had written and had no clue about what was in it ended up getting 8 and above. And when I asked the teacher as to how come I was given fewer marks, all the 3 teachers could do was to give me that smile which very proudly declared that I was in a world which did not allow one to think by themselves. And that I was not expected to be any sort of exception. It was as if they were reminding me that I was not required to think by myself and instead that all I had to do was to just follow what has been taught till now even if it contradicted whatever some great man had found out centuries ago by thinking different from all the others around him.

And this is the kind of world that I am living in. And all I can see around me are more people who have realized that thinking is not required or those who are trying to make others realize that thinking independently is something not to be done in this world today.

And so from now on, I will do what is required to get whatever value I am supposed to get as per analytical formulae. It will kill me everytime I do it. But I will do it. Because you see, that is the only way of surviving in this world where reason has been deemed redundant. I might as well start copying everything that I write and I might end up getting the same marks, probably more. But I wont do it. Not because I don’t trust others( that is a fact, but that is not the reason). It is because what I write will not be of my own thought or of my own creation. It is someone else’s. And I don’t feed on someone else’s creation. Each creation is the triumph of that one person who made it happen.

And whatever I do is MINE. Irrespective of whether this world recognizes it or not. I had read a question in a book for which I have high regards. It asked: “Who is John Galt?” I ask something else.

Where is John Galt when you need him the most?

This whole blog is not meant to be understood by all those who read it. All those who read it and either cant understand it or are not able to appreciate the magnitude of the situation, have no purpose on this planet. It’s not that I don’t care what you think of me. It’s just that I don’t think of any of you.

My time will come. Then I will let all of you out there know what I mean by leading a life and what it means to actually live.

The Moratorium on Brains will not last forever

Requiem for the Past

A requiem is a funeral song and it is sung, well, during funerals. No, nobody I know of personally died or anything. But in one of my previous blog posts, I had mentioned that a formal funeral hadn’t yet taken place. Well, I guess it’s time had come. The funeral took place yesterday in the morning amidst really unusual circumstances.
I am talking about the funeral of my relationship with one of my one-time close friend. It wasn’t too hard on me. I guess that’s why I am not unduly worried or concerned about it. Anyway it all started two days back when this friend of mine gave me a missed call after like some 4 months. Four months during which no effort was made whatsoever on her part to call me or atleast give me a missed call so that I would call back. Nothing at all. And then all of a sudden, this girl calls out of nowhere and still expects me to call her back. Ok. I was really curious. So I called her back.
The conversation went on smoothly. She laughed a lot. It will be fair to say that I made her laugh. Six months back it would have meant something really special. But now, after 4 months of neglect, it didn’t make any difference at all. Nothing whatsoever. I was surprised myself. But come to think of it, the whole conversation as such didn’t seem to make any difference in anyway to me. It didn’t make me happy. It didn’t make me depressed, or angry or anything for that matter. I found out that I was experiencing the most basic form of human indifference. It just didn’t matter to me what she said or how she responded. After talking to her for well over an hour, I just went back to my books and started studying. It was as if nothing had ever taken place at all.
But I had told her about my blog. I gave her the address. So yesterday morning, when I was doing my drawing assignment, I get a message. It was from her and it said that she was reading my blog. And she messaged me that part I had written about her in “cleaning out my closet”. And she said she was deeply hurt and that no one had been this rude to her ever before. She said she wanted to cry but couldn’t as she was in a browsing center. She went on to say that it was not that people didn’t deserve me but that I didn’t deserve anyone. And she asked me to make that change in the blog.
She says that calling me the previous night was one of her biggest mistakes.( I still don’t know why she called me in the first place.) And so I reply saying that I had no problem in declaring that I was rid of all guilt because none of this was my mistake. I told her that she had no idea about how much pain she caused me. I told her that she had made no effort to even check whether I was dead or alive. And I asked her to ask herself honestly if she made any effort to contact me at all. The reply I got was that she didn’t want any more of my messages. She said that now she didn’t want to even know if I was alive or dead. And she said “bye”.
I guess there was nothing left to do but to say the same back to her. But I decided to do it in a more civilized way. So I just messaged saying that I did not have any guilt whatsoever. And that time had come indeed to part. I wished her all the best for her future and expressed my wish that she live her dreams. I told her that in case at any point of time, if she ever remembered me, then I requested her to remind herself of the better times that we had. And I bid her “bye” and told her to take care.
And that was it. Period.
I somehow liked to think of her whenever I listened to “Scarborough Fair” by Simon and Garfunkel. I am listening to it right now. But I am not thinking of her anymore. I guess she is now a thing of my past. It just didn’t make any difference to me at all when I came to know that I would not be talking to her anymore. I just looked at my mobile and then carried on with whatever I was doing.
I guess its just been another reason for me to sit in front of my computer and type a blog post. Nothing more. Well for all you know, even that is getting over. Soon there will be nothing to remind me of all those times. I guess, in the end, it just didn't make any difference.
Come to think of it in a much broader view, it looks like the past is just going away. Nothing of that dreadful past I had, seems to be around me anymore. Simply put, it is now time to sing. Sing a song. Sing a funeral song. For the funeral of my past.
The Requiem for my Past sings aloud. And ahead.
Here I come.

Another chance...Another Semester.

That’s right. Here I am…all over again. This is my fifth take at this thing that we all call life. It has been more than 2 years now, since I had my first shot at this thing. And I have been having retakes every 4-5 months. Every semester I complete is like another 4 months down the drain. Every time I set out on my next semester I feel it is going to be different. I feel it is going to be better than my previous ones. But in the end, when my exams arrive, the only realization that comes into my head is that I am just 4 more months closer to my grave. The first thought that comes to my head at that time is that of shooting myself point blank with a 3-mm gun. But that is again just a thought which I can’t simply put into action. It is just that desire to escape reality that permits these thoughts into my head. And I seem to get that thought quite frequently nowadays.

It has without fail come to me every exam, every test, every quiz test, every assignment that I have copied, every class I have bunked, every day that I dint take bath, every Sunday that I got up late, every hour I wasted playing some or the other game on my computer, every day I dint do my spiritual duties, every week that I did not make an effort to call my parents, every unnecessary call that I made, every time I saw someone succeed and realize that I could have done a much better job than them, every time I plan for the week and don’t stick to it, every time I promise myself something and don’t live up to it, every time I look at the mobile phone and realize that just looking at it is not going to make it ring, every time some unknown person tells me that I don’t have anyone to talk to when I need to, every time I look at my Mridangam and remember that I haven’t been playing it since quite some time, every time I finish watching a movie and realize that I wont be studying that much time I had promised myself I would at the start of that movie, every time my results come out of any test that I have attended and realize that I am saved because a majority of the class is worse than me, every time I meet my Professor, whom I treat as God , and he tells me that I am one of those really gifted people who are hard to find these days, every time that I have to tell my results to my parents, in fact, every time I speak to my parents and they ask me how I am studying, every time I think that I deserve someone special in my life, every time I let my clothes unwashed for a long time, every time a lecturer asks a question in the class and either I don’t know the answer or someone else answers it, every time I think of what I wanted to be and every time I think of what I am.

“ ….that it’s not the way I had imagined it all in my mind.

….and the fault is my own and the fault is my own…”

So says a popular song. I cant agree more in my present situation.

I have big dreams. Not of having in my possessions a lot of materialistic things. But of a more fulfilling desire. A desire to see myself succeed – succeed big in what I always wanted to do. There is no greater pleasure and satisfaction in life than making something big happen- all just because of your effort. And that is my ultimate goal. And it cant be done in one night or in a year. But it can surely be done within the span of my life.

It feels very good to think about all the things one can actually accomplish. And it is an even greater feeling when one actually achieves them. But what does one do when one doesn’t have the faith arising due to past success? But instead has to bear the guilt of not doing what is required to do of him every damn day of his life?

You just do it.

Whoever gave that line must have just done it.

But again this is a new beginning for me. A new chance. A new semester. I will be leaving tomorrow night to my hostel. And what happens then onwards will be totally upto me. I have the freedom to make or break myself. I have a lot of plans for this semester.

“Plans that either come to nought

or half a page of scribbled lines…”

-“TIME” by Pink Floyd

I hope it doesn’t come to that. But yes I can still pull off something that I have put off for over two long miserable years. I had spoken of a phrase in one of my previous blogs that would be my identity soon. And I also said that I would not reveal it until I am worthy of it. I still stand by that. But for all those who have simply counted me off, I have nothing to say to all of you. For all the others, I say to you,

You were damn right.

Enough is Enough

Ok. This is it. I have had enough. I have spent enough time writing about girls than about myself. I guess it is indeed high time that I start living for myself than for anyone else. For those of u who have read the last entry, you will find that I have just been flushing out my past.

And rightly so. Past is indeed History. Period.

And so here I am. From now on the blogs will be more about me than anyone else.

Cleaning out my Closet

This is a very special post for me.

I have been having holidays for the past 2-3 months and so I have been staying at home all this while. So many things I had planned for these 3 months. I won’t say that nothing materialized at all. But I have been quite disappointed with myself about not being able to do all those things I had planned.

But these holidays have indeed been eventful for me. I started them by working on a project. Then of course came the FIFA World Cup. And so my biological clock was shifted forwards by about 5 hours. And I am still trying to readjust it. I really couldn’t do much during the World Cup. And so after the world cup was when things began happening.

I started working on something that I had newly discovered and was really happy about it. But again, I feel now that I could have done better. These being my holidays- I very well knew that I was capable of more. But anyway I did extract something out of it. And apart from that, I met most of my friends. I attended my High School reunion. And I organized my PU College friends’ reunion from St. Joseph’s. That just took place today.

I really had a great time talking about all the fun we had at Joseph’s those two years. Trust me. Those two years were simply the best of my life. I don’t think I can ever get back times like those two years. We relived every moment of those two years worth remembering. And it was great to see old friends not having changed. I will really miss those times.

And apart from meeting up with old friends, well, for those of you who have been reading my old posts, you will know that my holidays witnessed the return of someone special-after 8 years. Well, yes. She was indeed someone special to me and those 3 nights that I spoke to her for 5 hours each are something that I had never expected to happen. Those 3 nights gave me something that I had been too scared to even wish for. But I knew all the time that she had not come back to stay. It was only intended to be what it finally turned out to be. On the third night, I realized that that was the last time I would ever be talking to her. And today, we formally agreed that in order to maintain the sanctity of our relationship, we should not contact each other anymore- for the rest of our lives. And I was happy about it. So was she. And so it ended.

I also happened to get in touch with a few more special people from the past. Ok. I will be frank. Even these special people were girls. I don’t see any crime in that. These were the girls, with whom I used to talk to over the phone for hours together at some point of time or the other. And I was happy about it. But like all the others, none of them stayed for good. And so I contacted them through various means.

One of them was able to recognize me. And that’s it. There was no intention shown whatsoever to even mention that we had been close friends for a long time. Well, I guess that sort of required a finishing touch. So I sent her a message saying “Well we did have some good times. It was nice knowing you. Tata!” And so it ended.

One more “special” person was someone whom I had not contacted for over 3 months. Simply because she didn’t have the simple courtesy to give me even a missed call for over 3 months during which it was only me who was calling her. Ok…whatever. Now this female got recently placed in some not-so-big company. Last I heard she was still trying for her dream company. And she happened to let me know of her progress in her placements. Some very fine aspect cropped up in my messages which I guess was either misunderstood or was simply waited for as an excuse to end the relationship. Of course, no formal funeral has taken place till now. But I have this itching sensation that it is not too far away. Well, if this is the end, so be it.

And yes. There is one more of those “special” persons still to talk about. The fate of this special person’s relationship with me is now being decided as I type. Well she was someone I have known since I was 5 years old. Yes. You can say my childhood friend. And we got to know each other better in the later stages of high school and PUC and the later years. To state a fact, she is the one with whom I have spoken the most over the phone. And I used to talk to her for a long time even until as recent as December 2005. But then again I realized that it was only me who was calling. There was no effort whatsoever from her side to contact me in anyway. And that disappointed me quite a bit. So I stopped calling. Sometime now and then I used to call her. But I got no reply. And she never made one damn call to my phone all the while. And today it so happened that she messaged me out of nowhere asking me how I am. I reply casually. She thinks I am sarcastic. I can’t help it. So I have right now given her the choice whether she wants to continue to talk to me or not. And I am waiting for her reply. Yes this is happening as I type. Honestly speaking I don’t want to talk to her. All these past 6-7 months, I have learnt to live without her talks. I have changed. I really can’t change again. But the way I am sending the messages indicates to her that I would like to continue the friendship. But I have given her the final choice. And right now I am still waiting.

Well, I have now waited for over an hour and I have got no reply. So I shall not wait any longer. No. I am not going to announce the funeral of our friendship now. If anything actually develops regarding this matter, then I will let you know soon.

But come to think of it, it’s not just that a few people I knew are going away for good. Its that “I” am making them go away. It is that I have now come to the understanding that I had a past once. And that it was filled with a lot of people. And that not all stay. In fact, it is more apt to say that I should stay with people from the past those who are worthy of company.

And so for the past few weeks, I have been flushing out my past mistakes. I have been bidding goodbye to all those people in my life who do not deserve me. I have been cleansing myself of all the untold sins that I have committed. I have been throwing away all the unscrupulous elements of my past character. I have been looking forward for a new life.

In short, I guess I have just been cleaning out my closet. And now it is all devoid of any unwanted thing of my past. It’s in fact, full of new hopes and aspirations, the confidence that something can be done after all and that recurring phrase in my head. I won’t be telling what it is. It is something that I shall reveal only when I am worthy of it.

And now I am ready.

Bring It On.

What Happens....after 8 Years?

I had spoken about so much guilt. Yes, I still do not deny that I felt all those guilt. But what I am gonna tell you here is something different. Something that happened last night. Simply put, it was just too good to be true. But then, I guess, God sometimes bestows us all with some incredible things. I had not even dared to dream of it. But there I was, doing that very thing, living that very undreamt dream. Well, for all you know, it could have just been a dream. But it happened to be something more than that.

Something like this to follow after that miserable experience in reliving the worst phase of my life was beyond my ability to even dream. All that guilt has simply been replaced and superceded by the joy and satisfaction of having done that something I only desired so deep in myself that I was too scared to think of it- lest it not come true.

What do you feel when you realize that you have lost something and for 8 years you keep wondering whether there is even the slimmest hope that it will come back? What do you feel when it comes back after 8 years? What do you feel when you suddenly realize you are living your deepest desire that you have been secretly nurturing for over 8 years? What do you feel when you know that this is going to be the last time this is going to take place?

Walking Again

It’s really funny. I will tell you some facts. For the past 1-2 years, I have had many intimate relationships with girls. As is my policy, I shall not be taking up names. I had been alone for over 18 years. I do not have any brother or sister. I am the only son to my parents. And I was alone. My only outlet to social life was the telephone. And I used it like it was one more metabolic process necessary for my survival. I used to speak for hours together every damn day. And to be frank, most of my long conversations have been with girls. I have had more girls as close friends than boys. Now that being the case, my only outlet to an intimate relationship was the phone. And then, I went to a hostel at the age of 18.

There I was surrounded by people of my age all round the clock. At any given point of time, I had atleast ten people around me. But with so many around me all the time, I was still ALONE. Yes. That’s the fact. And so my outlet to intimacy was again my mobile phone. And yes, in the initial stages, I felt handicapped that I could not talk to anyone. And then, god gave me a solution in the form of my very old school friend. I still cant believe how I would have survived there in my right senses if it hadn’t been for her.

But then you see, nothing lasts forever. Things fade. When that someone comes into your life, I guess you tend to forget and ignore all those who have been with you all the while. Well, at least that’s what happened to her. And I was left alone again. It was that handicapped time again for me. But then God again sent someone else this time.

And I was happy talking to her. I was really happy talking to her. I used to talk to her like crazy. Even at 1:30 in the night we chatted on more than one occasion. And I was happy. I even got thoughts that this relationship might go further. So I promised something. Only thing, I was not able to fulfil it. This strained the relationship. And even though we started talking again, I knew somehow things wont be the same. And they are not. We hardly talk anymore. And I was handicapped again.

And so with this background imagine what happens when something returns after 8 years that gets me walking again? Again, simply put, it’s a dream come true.

I just want to thank that person who has made such a big difference I my life. THANKS A LOT.

And Nothing Else Matters....

Just last night I decided to do something queer. I just thought –“Ok. So lets see what are the things or who are the people without whom I really cant survive.” I wanted to know, in a practical way, as to who or what I was in actual need of to lead my life. I was a little apprehensive about going about this. Why? Well simply because I would sort of tell myself the naked truth as to whom or what I truly like and at the same time, I would know who all or what all doesn’t make a difference to me. And trust me: I really had a hard experience.

First I set out on the things that I couldn’t really live without. Well apart from the daily necessities of life that I am inevitably forced to use, I did find a few things I couldn’t live without.

First of all, my books. Books- of all kinds. My academics reference books, or be it my novels, my motivational books, all those books on World War 2, or those text books I have always loathed, all those spiritual books, books that I wrote myself-I am referring to my diaries-, or be it all those used and worn out notebooks that I once used long back. I just cant live without them. I need them every hour of the day. Without them, whatever dreams I have won’t be fulfilled in anyway.

And come to think of it, I really had a hard a time to find out something else that I really needed to survive. What answer I got was definitely surprising. In fact some people would laugh at it. The only other thing that I can’t live without is Pink Floyd. Pink Floyd simply filled in that void I had in me a few years back. Every time I heard “Time”, I would just be reminded of all those days gone by wherein all I did was nothing but waste time. I still do. But those lyrics, that lead guitar piece, that retro sound recording….it all just helps me put things in the right perspective. I can keep on talking about all the other songs as well…but that would take up a lot more time and space than what I want to write here.

So that was it: the only two things that I couldn’t live without were my books and Pink Floyd. Nothing else at all.

And then I came to all those people without whom I couldn’t live. I started thinking. Ok kept on thinking. Ok : my parents surely. I have literally been brought up by them. More about them later.

Ok so who else? Of course, my close friend! No names on the blog. So u won’t know who I am talking about. I met this guy about 5 years back. Since then, I couldn’t help but like his company. Today he knows me inside out. And even I know him inside out. And he happens to be the only person who continued to call me when I was in my hostel. Those were tough times for me. I used to stare at the mobile for about an hour hoping that it would ring. It simply never did-apart from his phone calls. So to whoever is reading this, and know that they should have called me and didn’t, well I just have one thing to say: “ None of you people deserve me. I am not made to be someone who knows any of you closely. I deserve people a lot better than you”

Well so apart from my parents and my close friend, I have one more close friend…we have been traveling on the same seas on the same path, but not on the same boat. Our destinations are the same. But our vehicles changed sometime back. But still he is one of the very few guys I have met who think straight, believing that doing the right thing is right. Surely he has made a big difference to me.

Well so there u go. 4 people, two things…end of story.

But only then, I came to realize that the story had just begun.

In my next blog maybe, I will tell you what I meant by the story had just begun.

Perfect Strangers

Something happened two days back.

Something had returned a few months back. And I was happy. I was really happy. It had always been my dream since it had ended on that fateful august night 7 years back. It had turned me mad. It took me a lot of time to come back my senses. Then after I came back to my senses, I was occupied with a lot other things. Couldn’t spare much time about something long gone.

But how was I to know that someday, some guy working in Google would come up with a concept under his own name that would literally sweep my world away? And so came Orkut. And the first day I came on Orkut, I knew what I was searching for.

And I found it. That was a few months back. Things went on smoothly. And I was really happy. Until two days back. I was made to relive each and every moment of the worst days of my life. All those foolish and insane choices that I made long then that led to that august night. I had to relive all that guilt. Guilt not that I caused hurt to someone. But guilt which showed me just how horrible I could be. Guilt that said- I am bad. Something that made me loose whatever self esteem I had built up over the years. That guilt made me feel bad about myself. And I didn’t like it. Nobody does.

It was really hard on me. A few months back, I had thought the whole past was dead and buried. I thought it was all history. But it was to come and haunt me again. And I don’t want that to happen again. And I am in a dilemma as to what I have to do to make sure that it doesn’t happen again.

Do I just stop contacting? Or should I give it some more time? For the first time I was contacted on my mobile phone. So what? Nothing much. Just that not many do so.

I still remember I had thought that we would remain as nothing more than perfect strangers. But then it had changed. And now I guess it will go back to just that- Perfect Strangers.

Of Brands and Black Trousers

A few days back, my parents and I had been to Garuda Mall. And for those of you who don’t know what Garuda mall is-well, it is a mall...a big mall…with lots of shops and theatres and …lots of other stuff. Our only purpose of going there was to park our car as we could not find any space on MG Road. Soon after parking, we entered the mall.
It was a real busy sight. People thronging all over the place. But I was still alone-with my parents. I needed a pair of trousers-black trousers. So we went into Shopper’s Stop. Now Shopper’s Stop is this real big place where you get clothes and accessories of various brands. Now I am sort of obsessed with brands. No. It does not mean that I like to wear only branded items or I buy branded clothes. I like them because it simply intrigues me. Just the fact that a shirt is an Armani or a Versace or that a deodorant is a Ferrari. Or for that matter, any of those Dior fabrics, or those Pirelli apparels. Just the fact that one man’s name is so widely accepted that it is a brand in itself is what I find intriguing.
So I enter this place with a black pant in my mind. As soon as I enter, the whole place seemed to be screaming “Versace, Pirelli, Benetton, Giorgio Armani, Prada, Roberto Cavalli…..” And I just stared in awe. It was all in here. All the great Italian fashion designers, British, American, French and even Indian brands were there- all backed by breath-taking photography of models posing with the products.
And there were a lot of brands that I hadn’t yet heard about. Elsa Peretti, Sergio Tacchini, and many others. Now see, I come from a respectable upper middle class family. My parents have provided me with whatever they could provide. I got no complaints on them at all. But I knew that the prices of all branded items were sky-high; why? Just because they are branded items. They are the same brand of clothes that Sharon Stone, Britney Spears, Brad Pitt or Jude Law wears. Well, you can’t expect to wear the same brand that they are wearing at a very cheap price…can you?
And so there I was, standing in front of Giovanni Versace, with all his perfumes, deos, apparels and other accessories. But I dare did not go and ask about the products-simply because I knew I could not afford them. So I went in search of my black pant. I came across many brands I hadn’t heard about. And I found black trousers. I felt the material. It felt good. Quite soft and smooth. The brand: Bottega Venneta. The price: Rs.2499/-
I could not buy it. I moved a few racks ahead. Another pair of black trousers. The brand: Arrows. The price: Rs.2999/-
I moved on. Found out some more black trousers. It was some brand I don’t recall. But I recall the price-Rs. 1999/-
I had come there to buy a pair of black trousers. And I was not able to buy a single piece of clothing there. I was disappointed. I felt helpless. It was not that I was desperate to wear branded clothes and that I was not able to afford it. It was just that I wanted to buy an everyday commodity like a pair of trousers and I was not able to buy one. Forget the place where I was in. Forget the brand. All I wanted was a pair of black trousers and I was not able to afford it.
I felt my hands tied. It was more like a handicap. Yes I could always go to some other normal shop and get a pair of black trousers. But you see that is not the point. The point is –how long? For how long will I be facing the same situation? A situation wherein I am compelled to tell myself: “Look, you can’t afford that. Try somewhere else.”
I have always lived with this I-get-what-I-want kinda attitude. There has never been a question of compromise in my life. And so I can’t accept that I am unable to do something. And so I stood there in front of all the men who hade made big brands out of their own names and I declared that there would soon come a day when I would no longer be in a position wherein I have to compromise. I would get what I want and without any trouble. I would do whatever it takes to get to that position and by God, I will do it soon.
For all you know, 20-30 years down the line, someone will write a blog similar to this. But instead of Giovanni Versace, he would be standing in front of a name- a name famous, simply because it happens to be mine.

G for Girlfriend

The following are certified and well established facts of my life:

1) I did not have a girlfriend.
2) I do not have a girlfriend.
3) Now there will not be any future tense implications here.
4) In my (deranged) life, I came across 5 girls whom I genuinely believed, at that time, to be the perfect match for me.
5) Two months later (and in the special case-2 days later), I was made to comprehend and appreciate the true size of the hole that I had been digging for myself.
6) The last one, I guess, just forgot about my very existence.
7) Right now, I am actively debating the existence of my life partner.
8) All my close circle of friends are either committed or are making steady progress up the commitment ladder.

Now before I venture into unknown territory, I want to make myself very clear that I have nothing against any boy or girl already involved in a relationship. All of you have my heart-felt wishes.

The very concept of a girlfriend is mind boggling. At the same time it gives rise to these never-felt-before emotions and the 24 hour –desire to be with one’s girlfriend. It ruptures the very fabric of the age factor.
And speaking of age-no-barrier, a lot of things spring into my mind. Consider the following classification.
Now there are those people who have had their “First” girlfriend at the primitive age of 10! (Yes..the 2nd girl I was comprehending had her “first” boyfriend at that age).

And there is that bunch of people who have incessantly declared their resolution to remain the humble friend of solitude- only to have had their “First” by their mid teens.

Another faction of the crowd are those who get their first after having done some remarkable research into the psychology of the feminine. It is a different story altogether that they get their second faster than their first and the third faster than the second. The average “Coming of the First” age in this category usually varies from 18 to 21.

Then there are those who have their first – and put a period. End of story. A.K.A Marriage. This usually takes place above the “YO!” age.
=>24 upwards.

And then there is me.

Problem is: I do not know what I am feeling. I am repeatedly told that it is a great feeling. Yes I do experience bits of it now and then. And it feels good. But does it come at any price? And is it affordable? And more importantly, how do I get hold of it? But the more fundamental question I have to ask myself is: Do I need one?

Just the other day, I was going around on M G Road. The most recurring sights included a guy holding his girlfriend’s hand and having that “Oh I love you!” expression on his face. Not to mention a few doses of that “I got a girlfriend!” expression too, very distinctly displayed on his face.

Upon closer observation, one realizes that the relationship between the average MG Road boy and girl can be classified into one of the following:
1) "Truly in love"- ok, everybody actually believe that they ought to be classified under this. I know otherwise.
2) "I love you-but we may not last forever": these are the predominant kind. They also hold hands.
3) "You know we will break up anyday-but lets enjoy now": A.K.A Flirting. The less said about them, the better.
4) "Maybe someday we will be boyfriend-girlfriend": these are the hopefuls…. With full of colossal dreams, they step foot on the sacred footpaths of MG Road with their girls….hoping someday that they be classified under category 1.
5) "I am trying to make up": these can be seen in some real expensive place. It is understood that the girl is extracting the last bits of the benefits of the guy’s financial planning in return for a likely 2nd category classification.

So now I come back to my question. Do I really need a girlfriend?

The first half of my brain says “Yes boy! You do need someone to share some intimate moments with. You do need someone whom you can call at 2 in the morning and who will be happy to hear you speak.(Wonder if things to that magnitude actually take place in love…)You need someone with whom you can hold hands and walk on MG Road. And lastly you need a girlfriend because you can then claim your classification under category 1.”
The second half of my brain said “Yes. I agree with the first half.”

Guess I don’t have much of a choice now. But the consequential problem remains: How do I find one?
Unfortunately I do not have any categories to classify this into. This is simply because I haven’t gone around searching for one till now. And I don’t plan to change that fact. So basically it means that I shall not be making any effort to find one. And as a natural consequence, I shall still remain single (well, that’s what my orkut profile will exhibit to the whole world).

But then every now and then, I do feel that that extra someone may actually make a difference. Maybe that’s what needs to fill that void in me. Or, on the other hand, maybe not. Whatever be the case, I still do convince myself everyday that I am not missing anything. Or maybe that’s just the way I deny the things I am missing. So whenever I see a guy and his girlfriend sharing some intimate talks or moments, I remind myself of the song by Simon and Garfunkel. The name of the song is “I am a rock”. And some of the specific lines that I remind myself of are as follows:

I have my books
And my poetry to protect me
I am shielded in my armor
Hiding in my room
Safe within my womb
I touch no one and no one touches me

Don't talk of love
Well I've heard the word before
It's sleeping in my memory
I won't disturb the slumber
Of feelings that have died
If I never loved I never would have cried

Like I said, maybe this is just a way of denying all the things that I am missing. Or maybe this is the way I am. But one thing I know for sure is that next time I see a boy and his girl, I will not make the effort to classify them…… simply because I don’t have the right to….

Hostel Musings

It is 1:00 AM. The whole country is trying to sleep. But I am still awake-wide awake. You don’t sleep at this time here. Very few people do. And those who don’t will be found doing what they usually do. Because at the hostels, you are what you do.
Somewhere down the corridor, PV is blaring “Be yourself” on his speakers (probably for the 22nd time today).
Die-Bitch, the hostel dog, begins its nightly howl (probably it has got fed up with its lifestyle). Poor thing-got stuck in the collapsible door last night. Howled for ten whole minutes before it realized how to get out.
Psycho returns to his room after his 4-hour stint at the reading room. His bond with RR seems to have been forged in the hot fires of Mount Doom. Nothing to break it).
Tharkari just returned from the NC(Night Canteen). Must have got something for somebody from NC. He usually does.
The Snake Warrior can only be doing one thing at this time-or for that matter at any given time-studying. Now I got nothing against people who study-but this poor chap doesn’t seem to be getting equally rewarded. Never speaks a word to his room mate. For his own reasons.
Then you hear something that you have become really familiar with-“FIGHT”, “EXCELLENT”, “2 FRAGS LEFT”, “1 FRAG LEFT”…….This can be only one thing on this planet: QUAKE 3 ARENA. Quakers quaking on their computers. Blasting off their rockets, anticipating where the guy next room is going to land, capturing the flag, getting the armor-its all there. But strictly no rail guns allowed. This Quake game is going to late in the night. My roommate is somewhere in the corridor-either watching the proceedings or taking part in them actively.
The Champions League Football matches start in half an hour. It is Barcelona vs. AC Milan. The heroics of Ronaldinho (a.k.a GOD) against the rock solid defence of Nesta, Maldini and the likes. This is the usual time it starts. Only today-someone is going to get a computer and actually record the whole match. There is support for both the clubs. But everyone knows Barca have the edge. Two more hours and we will know who is going to the finals.
I go outside for some fresh air. The night sky is crystal clear, completely filled with stars. Everyone in all the other blocks seem to be awake as well. I take in a breath of fresh air. And as I do so, my mobile sings its ring tone -GODFATHER THEME. Wonder who would be calling this late. At the back of my mind, I know what I am thinking. I try to deny it but it just seems to come right back at me. I hope it is her.
But again-it is just that-hope. Because when I answer the call, I realize it is only my classmate asking me my notes. I respond what is required and hang up. And then I cant help myself traveling back in time- a time when I spoke to her late into the night…a time when we used to talk daily for hours together. She was the only reason why my mobile existed. She was the only reason why I was still in my right senses. Those were the times when I knew I could call her anytime and I would be given a conversation.
But then, those times are gone. These are new times. And new times are never the same as old times. It has been 2 weeks since we have spoken. It feels like a handicap. But then I know things wont get any better. But that question always remains-WHY?- I have pondered over the question ever since things began to go wrong. But never really found a convincing answer. I guess I just gotta move on…maybe I will be alone, maybe I wont. Maybe things will get better, maybe they wont. But whatever happens, I know that things will never change in the hostel.
People who study will study. Quakers quake. Music listeners listen to music. And howling dogs howl. And amidst all of them, I will still be there-waiting for that one phone call. Or maybe something better.... Who knows? Anything is possible in a hostel life…..