Limits

"ami amar limit jani. amay atkash na..."

That's what I kept saying on New Year night after getting drunk. Puspen said that people say the truth when they're intoxicated. Seems he was wrong for one another time again! He's wrong about a lot of things, when it comes to me, for that matter. I did not even try to study when I woke up in the middle of night. I just downloaded a few NeYo numbers, for a change. One of them was the female 'response' (and not version, mind you) to his chartbuster So Sick. So Sick was a common favourite once upon a time. Today, it's just one of the most appropriate songs I can relate to. Apart from Rupam, of course. And a lot of other songs, too. But, what has changed over the years, is the way I listen to sad songs. I used to use sad songs to squeeze out tears when I'm sad. Seemed filmy, back then. Now, I use them to swallow the tears. Like the one shown in movies, life, even in reality, everything is erstwhile. Anyway, I went to bed at 4am, woke up at 8:30am, ignoring all the alarms going off at various points of dawn. Shochi Mashi's daughter hasn't been released from the neighbourhood hospital, so there's no question of taking her to the other one near Tollygunj. I had a number of things to get photocopied. I made a written account of my prospective expenditures for the day, and showed it to Dad. 

Xerox: Rs. 40

Auto(transportation): Rs. 20

Fuchkas: Rs. 10

Total: Rs. 70

He gave a sheepish smile and said I'm crossing my limits. He himself spends less than Rs. 50 a day, and I'm a jobless adult, how dare I spend Rs.70 a day?! He just goes to office by scooter, and comes back home. He has a 'brunch' (breakfast+lunch) at 10:30am, that sustains him till evening. He has tea then, and comes back home by 10pm for supper, if there isn't any other invitation elsewhere. After a lecture, he threw a 100rupee bill at me. Clever! Now, how and where do I get the change?

Someone said in an SMS: nekami-r churante pouchhe gechhish ekebaare. Ah, I have crossed my limits again. When I didn't talk last afternoon, I was accused of keeping things to myself. When I'm expressing everything today morning, I'm being accused of melodrama! Fuck! Doesn't even know what's going on here. Doesn't even bother to find out. Just passes comments, and thinks it's perfect. I felt like replying 'Go to hell'. But I couldn't. I still haven't managed to get 'into' the system and use curses and slangs. I just can't. I'm too dramatic, eh? Maybe. I never asked anyone to 'adjust' to my ways, ever.

I haven't cleaned my room yet. Because, I got the two books I couldn't find. They say "Necessity is the mother of invention." And they're right.

Spanish homework done. Hospital cancelled. Counselling postponed. I had a dream in the morning about Farhan Akhtar. Not a troubling dream, somehow. But, it changed my mood. In fact, nearly, elevated my mood. I decided that I'll do what I feel like doing. Arrrgh, how many times have I decided that in the last few days! That's why love is a torment. One moment, you feel like doing what you should do (play by the rules, no compromise with your dignity, blah blah). The next moment, you feel like doing what you want to do (surrender to the 'magic', in one word).

Next, I crossed my limits of indecisiveness. I decided I'll do what I want to. Then I changed my mind. I said I'll do what I ought to do. Next I said what I feel like doing. The very next moment, I refused it. The, again, I said I'll do what I want to. Then, I finally rested on what I should do, ought to do. 

I have to go out to buy medicines for Shoch Mashi's daughter. Crap.