And, escapism again!

Escapism again. To avoid dad's comment on my room, reeking with smoke. To avoid that vital phone call post midnight, the prospect of which sustains me throughout the day. Another nill and null "next day". I can't move on. Can't move forward, can't move backward. Just stay static. Stuck in the middle of an unfinished story. Not even the middle. Somewhere in the first-half. The first half of a fast-forwarded story. Huh! Fast-forwarded, eh? Still think it's true?

The call had come. To both the cellphones. Unlike the previous two nights. Does that mean my better half really wanted to talk? Ah, I'm learning the rules. I'm learning not to succumb to love. Not to LOVE. That's it. Oh no. That's not it. I'm learning to escape. With 16 'sutta's a day.

I should live for my brother. He's the only one left backstage after the drama is over. I asked that SFI guy of college to read this, when he asked me what I'd done all day. Strange thing to ask. By a strange person, indeed. Sohom Da's late night SMS pissed me off again. As usual. But, I'm lucky I was asleep then too. So, when I read it later, the 'pissing off' hardly lasted. I decided I'd give it a try. That ghazal by Pankaj Udhaas. Anyway, I have also learnt that it is not only wrong to be always right, it's useless too. The romanticism of "Everything I do, I do it for you" turns tragic when the person referred to as 'you' thinks it's meant for his/her worse. Pretty tragic. Pretty ugly. Pretty stupid. I'm stupid. Dammit.

Anyway, post-evening, I didn't study much, not even a whole page, but I sorted out which book to study which chapter from, in Computer Science. And, for the millionth time this month, I re-re-re...re-realised that it's next to impossible to do well in the Selection tests. It's next to impossible to mug up this huge syllabus. Next to impossible.

Disha rang up again in the evening. She asked me to tell her the names of all my classmates. She has decided to join a computer course. I asked her to join guitar classes as well. The Dean of Science at Xaviers had told her that Bio-tech has weak prospects, and it's one of the weakest courses in their college. So, she'll be taking up Chemistry, instead. Our call lasted for more than an hour. Both of us were engulfed in clouds of mosquitoes. So, it's not my unkempt room, after all, that's responsible for these creatures!

I came online. Downloaded songs again. Rupam again. Cigarettes again. An early dinner (nolunch, no evening snacks, yet, no hunger). Cigarettes again. I decided I may watch Billu Barber anyway, since more than nobody gave positive reviews. But, well, I dunno. I may not watch, again. If I do, it's going to be at the Wednesday morning show at Forum.

I went to bed again! No wonder that I fell asleep in no time. When I'm depressed, I sleep a lot. I feel like sleeping a lot too. On other normal occasions, I would fail to fall asleep within a couple of hours of going to bed, if I didn't have a tiring day!

Now, it's 2am. The 'next day' has begun. No 'meetings'. And therefore, no motives. All I have to do all day is/are:

[1] Take Shochi Mashi, my housekeeper, and her daughter to the Bangur Hospital at Tollygunj.

[2] Go to college, at least to find out what Sudipto was saying about the validity of our ID cards.

[3] Do the Spanish homework: Un parrafo sobre su habitación (a paragraph on your room)

[4] Go to the Spanish class in the evening.

[5] Try and study more, and think less. 

[6] Try and counsel myself. Anyhow. As soon as possible. I know I can't get help. This isn't something I can tell friends about. Hence, no outside help. Self-help is the only way out. Someone wrote on Orkut: Strentgh is nothing but how well you hide your pain. I was srtong, wasn't I? I need to stop the strentgh from draining away at this rate. Post-May, I can afford another melodrama, not before, not now, definitely.

¡vuelve!