Yesterday, at British Council, I came across a book called The Writers' Handbook. As I flipped through the pages, I came across a story of a girl who used to blog a lot, a nd pretty well. So well, in fact, that some famous publisher contacted her, and bought the copyright over her blog, and published it as a book. I imagined if any publisher would ever wanna do that with my blog. No, because I don't have that in mind when I write. Example: Now.
I am screwed up and fucked up. And I hate watching anything at all, now. I hate doing anything at all now. I made the phone calls, while sitting on this chair. I have to get my arse up, and go and have a bath, and go out. I made more than 2 phone calls. I made 3 STD calls, and two local calls. It's the locals calls that have pissed me off. I know I haven't mentioned why I didn't update my status on Gtalk after Disha called me on Sunday. Then, it made sense, for once, something was being mutual! Okay, I'll elaborate a bit more. Disha is now almost her best friend. And vice-versa. I don't even know why Disha had cried at college on Saturday. She knows. Okay. Now why that? I can understand not knowing anything about her, because she doesn't know anything about me too. I can understand, my getting to know the mere facts, because she gets to know the mere facts too. But why should there be anything on earth that Disha and I can't share with each other? No, that's not what's pissed me off. Yeah I am pissed off. Okay, I finally admit that. I have been very pissed off. Just that, the reasons taht my brain show me, aren't the reasons! It's not about Disha. Haven't I complained to Criss taht I hate that dIsha can read my face? Haven't I cursed the "attachment" with Disha: the whole family attachment thing? I know I can't just say that now, the attachment doesn't exist. Because Disha keeps telling me, that she can't tell me things, because it's between her and her. Fuck. And I keep saying, that it's what I want. Yeah, I got it! I am pissed off, since November, because, I have been getting everything I wanted to get. And after getting them, the results aren't what I expected. Be it a "change" from the stagnancy in our relationship, or about Disha's being faithful to me. I wanted these to stop. They have stopped. And I am very happy that they have stopped. Yeah I am happy, I am laughing at it, all the time. It's just the dual thing. Again. Phew. I am happy, that things are going as I planned. Everything. Everything is going as I planned them. I had my own mental turbulence in mind too, in my plans too. So, I'm okay with it. Just that, I need my blog to handle it all. I feel liek Brad Pitt in Sleepers. The stress. Dadabhai asked me not to drink anymore. How is it going to matter? Dude I don't need to get drunk. It's all the same, drunk or not. It's all the same. I know that I want this. (Like I said I want to die like Devdas, in pain, yet, that doesn't mean I won't use the word "pain" to describe it then) Fuck. And The Fountainhead. Everything's coming together. And the more everything seems connected to each other, it gets complicated. Why did I have to read The Fountainhead? And why just then? I could have read it ages ago, and forgot about it now. I could have read it ages later, when all of this would have been over. And I get these awful dreams. I can't even tag a "good" or "bad" label to them. And well, in last night's dream, I didn't even know, in the dream itself whether I was happy or sad. I am not the only person I know who is or have been going through this awful phase. But, yeah, I am the only person I know who have absurd dreams. Why do dreams have to be so fucking important? Why can't I have peace when I sleep, at least? Now, i hate it all. Hatred, right. And therefore, the fury. Fighting all these negative emotions is the joy and gratefulness. The trouble is that, the joy and and the fury is directed at eh same incident. Always. Like yesterday afternoon. Having to wait till 12:40pm. I was both furious and happy (happy because I met Gul) at the same incident. Disha: I am both furious and grateful at what she is having to do now. Mind you, I am not furious or grateful to her. It's not her. It's what she is having to do. She is doing what she has to do. And I also, know this, that the reason, she can't betray her, is because Disha loves me. In bengali "amio or doler lok". By being not faithful to me, Disha is actually being faithful to me. Hoo, the complications again! This is why I loved Shob Choritro Kalponik, and The Last Lear. Because they showed the complications, and didn't solve them. People who find their lives alike to what F.R.I.E.N.D.S. show, won't know what complications mean, so they won't understand Rituporno Ghosh, I agree. Now them point is, that what exists as a complication, is a complication. It's not meant to be solved or sorted out. The complication is the eternity, the completion. Get that, Mr. Mehta! You asked me to let the colour fade away, and not delete it with force. And now, if we were in terms like before, you would say that I have forcibly erased the colour, by getting over her. But, then, human beings are NOT simple. No way. It's more than that, it's more than can be said or even described in a sentence. Sometimes, I really feel I have got over her. Because there are things I am doing now, with other people, that I would never have imagined doing without her few months before. And I do them, without feeling bad. The next moment, when I try to analyse whether I really don't feel bad, I realize that I am feeling over-joyed! Over-joyed, eh? Yeah, I feel this is some kind of a revenge, I am doing what she is doing. Then, the strange feeling, because someone inside my brain tells me that it's not me who's taking a revenge. It's her who's doing it. She's taking the revenge. She's making me feel all that I must have made her feel back in Devcember 2007. Then I realise that, no, she isn't doing anything. All she knows, is that she loves you. She does feel it, maybe, at times, that she and me aren't "soul-friends" anymore. But, then that's all. She can't be taking a revenge on me, if she herself isn't aware of it. But, then, my princess, when was she ever aware of anything? When did she ever UNDERSTAND? She doesn't even understand you, or Disha, for that matter! I wish I could lend my brain to her, so that she could use that part that knows you, and understand you. I haven't taught her how to understand everything and everyone, because I loved her, and the more she would understand everything and everyone, the more miserable she would be. The way Disha is miserable. The way Disha wants to cry when she sees me, and wants to be with me, and the next moment, she decides she can't tell me certain things. Please, let her be the way she is. Call it innocence. She doesn't need to understand. She never wanted to take up psychology, did she? Let her be at peace. We're all working on it. We all are suffering, but then the the only reason we can suffer, and not complain about it, is because we care for her. We want her to be happy. If she is happy, we don't give a damn whether she is lying to herself or not. We don't give a damn.
I am calm now. First time, since months, I have WRITTEN everything down, and not in terms of tough intellectual words, or indirect sarcastic words. I have written down exactly what I think. And, well, I am not feeling good about it, not at all. I have my blog header saying "Because Of You". I have referred to someone else as 'you'. That says how much I am being myself. I am still not being myself, because I dunno what being myself is. Not at the present state of affairs. I know what being myself means, if I can go back in time, say a couple of years. Well, princess, you know, Koushik Da reads my blog, Subhenjit (well, he's Arpit's friend) reads my blog too. I mean people who really dunno what's going on read my blog. And it matters to me, that they read my blog. But, I still know that the way I write things, only you can decipher what it's all about. I still write to you. Even if I refer to you as she. And why did I have this outburst? I'll tell you that too. One time, it's justice. I'll tell you whom I called , the local ones: Shauvik, and Disha. Disha told me, in direct speech "ami toke bolte parbo na. O chaibe na je ami toke boli". Wasn't that fucking wonderful? If you remember, that Disha was the second most important woman in life, you should think that I felt awful when she said that. But you would be 50% wrong. Exactly 50%. Not more, not less. When I was making her recite the Hanuman Chalisa, at Burrabazaar, on 3rd January morning, I had a placed a demand on her. I wanted Disha to give me something. Disha said "Don't do this to me." But, I knew that she had started doing it since the previous night itself. The girl-talk you had when I had gone to buy the chickn. Disha admitted that it was about what I suspected it was about. But, she didn't give me the details. I didn't ask for it too. all of use are doing what we should do, because that's what we want to do. Ok, I'm going into complications again, drop it. The good thing is that, she is fulfilling my demand now! She knows it. She just isn't aware of it. If I make her aware of that, she'll feel she's wronging me. Let her be you, for sometime. This is right. [Because this is what I'd wanted all along]Just that I didn't want to write all this, but now that I've spent an hour over it, I won't delete it. I have screwed up a whole day. I won't bathe today, it's over 5:30pm. I won't even go out. Instead, I'll open a book. Maybe. maybe not. Doesn't matter. Not yet.
Words from the dimly remembered past
3 days ago