Holiday down south
1 week ago
Monday, November 23, 2009
Pain
I am not going to write anymore. Not anything about what's happening, what I'm doing, what I'm feeling. Because I don't want you to know. Because it's awfully painful to see that you just don't care, all of a sudden. I don't want to be Agnisakshi's Nana Patekar. Ok, forget movies. I don't want to be Sritama's Sourav Sadhu. I talked to her, and drew the similarities. I can open a new blog, and start writing there, and not give anyone the link. but no, you were right, ok. I wrote only to let you know. But I don't, anymore. I really don't want you to know anything anymore, because I can't take THIS. I had a successful day today. I was not pretending anything today. I was myself today. I am still being myself. With myself, with you, with him, with everyone. And being myself, with my self, I am saying that I don't want to tell you anything anymore. Of course, with that examination blackmail you'll do tome (you already did) I'll be in touch with you, as usual. But, minimal. I won't ping you when you come online. I won't text you (unless I am in a state as I was in today afternoon at Aditi aunty's place), and I won't call you (unless that's the first thing I do in the morning, when I'm so sleepy that I actually don't remember a thing except that I have to call you up). BBye. Picco has come. To my rescue. HE'll make me laugh. And then he'll leave. And I'll have that uninterrupted feeling of being stifled by big fat hands.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
History
I ought to change my blog header. ASAP. Mission Pretension terminated. Crap. Another Mission started. Feels like that. I don't want to write anything. Because I don't want you, fucking you to read what's on my mind. Ok? It's just the same story all over again. He'll leave, and then break up, and then you'll come back. And now, of course you need me as a fucking friend. The silver ling: I'll realise that I never loved you. Of course. The crack. You are repeating R. Do whatever you want to. I've stopped living in my make-believe world. I know that I had mood swings when you were there. Now, there won't be any mood swings. One blank, long, uninterrupted stretch of uninterrupted depression. Crap. I don't love you. I don't feel that yet. But I will, after you come back. I have been through this before. I was being a fool, I was subjecting myself to my destiny (something I'm not used to doing. I make things happen). I won't have the same story repeat. I know I'll realise some day that I never love you. So right now, right away I must start telling myself that. I don't love you. I don't love you. Crap. I won't gain anything. Out of anything. Nothing good will ever happen to me. I don't need to have good things happening to me. I have had six months with you, and six years with R. They should be enough. I stop it right now. I don't need anyone. I don't need happiness. I don't need friends. In any case they are your friends. They call me yup and ask me about you. You and him. I don't need your friends. If I could live 17years of my life without friends, I can live 17 more years without friends too. I don't need to live any longer. My work will be done. I dunno what work I'm talking about. That doesn't matter. I'll figure that out. Th surgery, of course is secondary, as of now. I would have started saving money right away if I was so focussed. But Goddammit, I wasn't. You dare to point out that I didn't believe in "our money" concept? Don't you. After all this time, making me feel guilty is the last thing you have the right to. Why am I talking to you? You're over. You're gone. And I don't care. I have to be stoic. You're gone. No more of you. You're in some other college, studying some other subject; I don't need to be in touch with you anymore than I need to be in touch with Dodan and Saheli. I don't love you. So I won't do what I do. What I have done all these fucking months. I will get drunk today. The bell has rung. Finally. You don't dare to ask me why I freaked out today, do you? Why did I stop pretending today? You were better off when I was pretending. You don't have the right to. You were the only person who had the right to. I don't give you the right anymore. You don't care now, do you? You'll say yeah, I know. But, I'm not taking it. I don't see any need t be good with you or him or anyone anymore. No Payal, no Disha, no Dehsraj or Sritama. Disha will be there, probably. I will be doing injustice to her, because she came in when R was there. But she wouldn't have persisted in my life, if you hadn't come. DAMN. IT'S ALL CRAP. EVERYTHING IS MEANINGLESS. I shouldn't be in touch with Sayak too. For me he's someone from HSMS, in section B. If not for you, I wouldn't have ever cared for Sayak, I wouldn't have ewer cared to find out the details. Fuck all of 'em. You wanted to learn slangs, right? You don;'t need to, you know. Anger can be expressed without slangs too. And as he pointed out,I specialise in expressions. I have to get my rid of you. I won't express anything more then. Yeah! I am feeling slightly tipsy.
I am talking sense though. I have dine what Neema and Disha wanted me to do. Stay away from you. That would be a guy-like thing to do. Fuck them. They told me that going on loving you was feminine. Fuck them. They themselves, would never had had the strength to do what I was doing you know. Fuck them. I don't want to do tis. You know that. The very sight of you is what I survive on. Don't ask me if I loved R as much as this. I didn't. But whatever was the amount of love was, I thought that was the maximum possible. Then you came, and I did more "out-of-my-way" things. But I didn't think that it was the maximum possible. Whatever I thought. Even you thought that ten years later, you picture yourself in my arms. Thoughts don't count. Feelings don't. Emotions don't. Words don't. SMS-es don't. Late night phone calls don't. Nothing counts. Love doesn't count too. So what if you love someone who doesn't love you anymore? So what if she left you because she got bored of you. After making eternal crappy promises. Promises are meant to be broken, you used to say. I remember that. I should have remembered that when you said you'll never leave me. 15th January 2008. Damn. No, I don't want to remember dates. I have stopped remembering dates. FUCK DATES. They are numbers. They don't matter. Like 21st December 2012 doesn't matter. I've decided. I have reached my tolerance limit. (Actually I haven't, you know. I can still go to any extent to see you smile)I feel slightly drunk now. I am making typing mistakes too. My legs were shaking after i logged of the chat to "show" that I'm angry. And I kept wanting to login back, and apologise. I had to drink that whisky to stop myself. Why am I writing to you? You won't react. You love him now. And I know why you don't want to tell him every truth about me. I won't write it here, don't worry. By the way, I don't think "baby" is shallow. When I am in bad mood, and I'm talking to you in my mind, I do refer to as baby at times. No more of you. I dunno if I'll stop smoking. I'm too much of an idealist. Moreover, I want to die soon. His coming into your life has proved for once and all, the exact cycle my life is gonna go through, forever. The same cycle. The same story. What I'll call history will keep repeating itself. No use living. I'm a burden on mankind. I'll smoke. I'll drink. I'll take drugs too. I don't have any hope anything good, because I don't deserve any good. HAHAHAHAHA!! I'll laugh now. I am laughing. Long since. YAAAY!! HAHAHAHA!
I am talking sense though. I have dine what Neema and Disha wanted me to do. Stay away from you. That would be a guy-like thing to do. Fuck them. They told me that going on loving you was feminine. Fuck them. They themselves, would never had had the strength to do what I was doing you know. Fuck them. I don't want to do tis. You know that. The very sight of you is what I survive on. Don't ask me if I loved R as much as this. I didn't. But whatever was the amount of love was, I thought that was the maximum possible. Then you came, and I did more "out-of-my-way" things. But I didn't think that it was the maximum possible. Whatever I thought. Even you thought that ten years later, you picture yourself in my arms. Thoughts don't count. Feelings don't. Emotions don't. Words don't. SMS-es don't. Late night phone calls don't. Nothing counts. Love doesn't count too. So what if you love someone who doesn't love you anymore? So what if she left you because she got bored of you. After making eternal crappy promises. Promises are meant to be broken, you used to say. I remember that. I should have remembered that when you said you'll never leave me. 15th January 2008. Damn. No, I don't want to remember dates. I have stopped remembering dates. FUCK DATES. They are numbers. They don't matter. Like 21st December 2012 doesn't matter. I've decided. I have reached my tolerance limit. (Actually I haven't, you know. I can still go to any extent to see you smile)I feel slightly drunk now. I am making typing mistakes too. My legs were shaking after i logged of the chat to "show" that I'm angry. And I kept wanting to login back, and apologise. I had to drink that whisky to stop myself. Why am I writing to you? You won't react. You love him now. And I know why you don't want to tell him every truth about me. I won't write it here, don't worry. By the way, I don't think "baby" is shallow. When I am in bad mood, and I'm talking to you in my mind, I do refer to as baby at times. No more of you. I dunno if I'll stop smoking. I'm too much of an idealist. Moreover, I want to die soon. His coming into your life has proved for once and all, the exact cycle my life is gonna go through, forever. The same cycle. The same story. What I'll call history will keep repeating itself. No use living. I'm a burden on mankind. I'll smoke. I'll drink. I'll take drugs too. I don't have any hope anything good, because I don't deserve any good. HAHAHAHAHA!! I'll laugh now. I am laughing. Long since. YAAAY!! HAHAHAHA!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Over-doing love
I'm back to my blog. I should have written here yesterday itself. I thought today wouldn't be too eventful, so I can always postpone it. Moreover, I was stressed with too much of pre-promised work to have the time for blogging.
What happened today, would be, in my usual boring words, "worse than before". Before I go into it, I should describe the previous couple of days. Proximity had over-powered Mission Pretension. I dunno if it was good or bad. Clearly, it was "good" for me. Having yourself unmasked (without any effort) is technically supposed to be good for one's psychology. What I dunno is, if its good for the future, for the "hope". Koushik Da pointed out in my previous post, that too much of confusion can cause permanent damage to the mind. Well, the confusion is inevitable, if not the damage!
[Break]
Here I am, back, after more than 48 hours of having written the above paragraph. That awful day is still fresh, I can still make myself cry, reminding myself of the FACTS. But, I'm not shaking anymore, like I was the day before yesterday. Moreover, I don't think I'm allowed to write them. But I want to.
Okay, back to what I had referred to as a couple of good days, it's all the result of stealing. Stolen money, stolen happiness. It had been so good, that during the last few hours of the "couple of days", I had started being myself with her. I didn't know when and how she unmasked me. Crying to her seems so natural. Even if she is the only one who insults me every time she sees me crying, she is the only person with whom I'm comfortable crying!
Anyway, I didn't write anything that night, because, I thought, there wouldn't be much happening the next day, so I might as well postpone my blog. Moreover, I was exhausted. I watched 2012 against all my better judgements, and it made me prioritise on her even more. These kinds of movies do this thing more than any romantic movie!
Mashallah! The next day, right in the morning, I heard about the Taj-Together plan, and I put my mask back. I was feeling bad, sad and sick when I met Sayak. I tried to smile at him. But whenever he wasn't looking, I had trouble keeping a straight face. Next thing that happened, was running into them. Hoo. It was unplanned, and unintentional, especially because I was ill-informed about certain things. He talked to Sayak. She talked to Sayak. I tried to deep breathe. I failed. I bent down twice to calm my stomach. I failed. I shuffled my feet a bit, trying to calm my legs. I failed. I was scared that my face betrayed it all. (Later I came to know, it didn't!). She "felt", and "saw" my legs shaking violently. She laughed at it. I wanted to tell her that she is a sadist. I did. But, I kept thinking why she had laughed, and all the explanations that came to mind were positive ones. I can't really pen them down. But, if I was her friend, she wouldn't have laughed at my misery. She laughed, because she saw the amusing part only. She is indifferent to me and my miseries, probably. That's good. Indifference is better than the "friend" thing. I won't explain it anymore here.
Then, Sayak and me, went to my college. We were mostly quiet. I was trying my best to be OK. But my body has a mind of its own. When I am laughing, it makes my legs shake. When I'm having chocolates, it makes me want to vomit. Anyway, from Star Theatre, I boarded a tram with Sayak. I had to do it, after the turbulence that I was subjected to an hour ago. In the league of the things I have to do without her, it felt like a revenge. But, once Sayak and me were seated, and I looked out of the tram, I was bombed apart. I kept talking to her in my mind, I kept giving that imaginary her, all sorts of explanations like "Sayak wanted it, not me.", "Even you went for the launch ride", etc etc. I realised what I was doing, I wanted to cry. Then, I went to Dalhousie Square for the first time; i.e, the tram went, I saw it for the first time. I saw the Writers' Building and the lake before it, and all the palatial buildings around it. I thought it was beautiful. I didn't want to cry anymore, I was crying. I never wanted to do it. I never wanted to see anything beautiful without her. Yet she's making me do them. I have to see a lot of beautiful things without her. Oh, by the way, the news is that, I am neither going to Delhi, nor Mumbai, nor anywhere else. I don't have money enough. If, by any chance, I do get my hands on something, I'll flee, I swear.
A Coffee House disaster afterwards, I learnt that like "us", even Diya and Sayak's first movie together was Taare Zameen Par. I was reminded of the significance of the Enrique number Hero in their story. Similar to mine. I felt furious. I couldn't see any way how Diya could come back to Sayak. But she must return. There's too much of similarity between both the stories. Diya must return to Sayak, somehow.
Anyway, then I went to Disha's place, where Pupsen said that I looked drugged. I took his practicals and books, to do the diagrams that I had promised him a year ago. A sleepless night afterwards. Then, a sleep-ful morning. I had calmed down a lot by afternoon. Nothing much that day, except the late night chat with him, about her. When I say I am calm, it means I am numb. I feel nothing. I felt nothing.
Next day, an inpromptu-quiz. India Today Group's Inter College Business Quiz. It was held at Jyotirmoyee School Of Business at Sonarpur. We came third. I didn't feel anything then. I had gone "weak" once, when we had qualified for the final round. But, that wasn't weakness to my definition. Shauvik, my partner, called his father. Other people were calling their best friends or their parents. I had called her impulsively. She did't receive though. Anyway, as soon as the quiz was over, I left the place. I didn't wait for their free transportation back to Kolkata. Damn, I was in a village, in winter, I ought to enjoy it, and I can enjoy it only if I am alone! I travelled back home on my own, and travelled in a local train after nearly a year. It wasn't dark yet, and the train wasn't too crowded, in short, it was great. It reminded me of some Vivek Oberoi movie with a train scene in it. But, the name of Vivek Oberoi was about to spark reactions within, when I pushed aside all thoughts away, again.
The night was uneventful, even though I was at Disha's place, helping her give her Mom the birthday surprise at midnight. I was glad to see them happy, the three of them, but I didn't feel it rubbing off on me. I have become indifferent to them. Even Gublu, I have become indifferent to him too. Disha tried making me cry once, saying that I don't love her, I over-do the love thing, blah-blah. I managed to keep a straight face. But my voice was choked when I asked her for explanations.
I came back early morning, had a few intellectual discussions with father. Even that didn't excite me. I was supposed to go watch Kurbaan with Sayak. I couldn't. I had sworn that I won't watch anymore movies at theatres, because I am short of money. But, that's not the only reason behind not going to watch Kurbaan. I didn't want to watch Kurbaan with anyone. Then, I was supposed to take Sayak to LBC Fest, I have been promising him that since months. I didn't. I was incapable of doing it. He understood it. Because he has been through the exact phase. I slept, I had confusing dreams, I shivered in the 12o'clock sun, I was dazed. My head reeled for no reason, my migraine was back, awfully. My legs shook so badly that I couldn't even sit still. I had no track of the time or events around me. I was slightly better by evening. I went out, walked a kilometre. An important kilometre, at that. The stretch from South City to 8B. A damn important kilometre. I had to stop walking twice to stabilise my wobbly legs.
After that, I met the two of them. It wasn't unintentional this time. He made it happen. This time, he knew everything. He tested my acting skills, and I passed. I was at my best.
Coming back home, I read a bit of the book he gave me. I watched Chinese Coffeea bit. That movie is directed by Al Pacino himself. And after watching it, I respect him even more. I love the person more than the actor! Chinese Coffee's protagonist is so much like me. Except that he really has no money. The best similarity that comes to my mind, right now, looking around my own room, is Harry Levine's condition about being so used to living in a sunlight-less, small, cramped room, that he can never live in a large sunny room. He was a writer too, but with less of originality, and more of real-life inspiration, so much so, that his friend accused him of stealing his life. He shook badly when he was under stress. He loved a girl (with whom he had a relationship for a six and a half years), who left him long ago. The last similarity I'll mention here is what he told himself: "No matter what you do, how hard you try, how long you go at it, nothing good can ever, will ever, should ever happen for you."
What happened today, would be, in my usual boring words, "worse than before". Before I go into it, I should describe the previous couple of days. Proximity had over-powered Mission Pretension. I dunno if it was good or bad. Clearly, it was "good" for me. Having yourself unmasked (without any effort) is technically supposed to be good for one's psychology. What I dunno is, if its good for the future, for the "hope". Koushik Da pointed out in my previous post, that too much of confusion can cause permanent damage to the mind. Well, the confusion is inevitable, if not the damage!
[Break]
Here I am, back, after more than 48 hours of having written the above paragraph. That awful day is still fresh, I can still make myself cry, reminding myself of the FACTS. But, I'm not shaking anymore, like I was the day before yesterday. Moreover, I don't think I'm allowed to write them. But I want to.
Okay, back to what I had referred to as a couple of good days, it's all the result of stealing. Stolen money, stolen happiness. It had been so good, that during the last few hours of the "couple of days", I had started being myself with her. I didn't know when and how she unmasked me. Crying to her seems so natural. Even if she is the only one who insults me every time she sees me crying, she is the only person with whom I'm comfortable crying!
Anyway, I didn't write anything that night, because, I thought, there wouldn't be much happening the next day, so I might as well postpone my blog. Moreover, I was exhausted. I watched 2012 against all my better judgements, and it made me prioritise on her even more. These kinds of movies do this thing more than any romantic movie!
Mashallah! The next day, right in the morning, I heard about the Taj-Together plan, and I put my mask back. I was feeling bad, sad and sick when I met Sayak. I tried to smile at him. But whenever he wasn't looking, I had trouble keeping a straight face. Next thing that happened, was running into them. Hoo. It was unplanned, and unintentional, especially because I was ill-informed about certain things. He talked to Sayak. She talked to Sayak. I tried to deep breathe. I failed. I bent down twice to calm my stomach. I failed. I shuffled my feet a bit, trying to calm my legs. I failed. I was scared that my face betrayed it all. (Later I came to know, it didn't!). She "felt", and "saw" my legs shaking violently. She laughed at it. I wanted to tell her that she is a sadist. I did. But, I kept thinking why she had laughed, and all the explanations that came to mind were positive ones. I can't really pen them down. But, if I was her friend, she wouldn't have laughed at my misery. She laughed, because she saw the amusing part only. She is indifferent to me and my miseries, probably. That's good. Indifference is better than the "friend" thing. I won't explain it anymore here.
Then, Sayak and me, went to my college. We were mostly quiet. I was trying my best to be OK. But my body has a mind of its own. When I am laughing, it makes my legs shake. When I'm having chocolates, it makes me want to vomit. Anyway, from Star Theatre, I boarded a tram with Sayak. I had to do it, after the turbulence that I was subjected to an hour ago. In the league of the things I have to do without her, it felt like a revenge. But, once Sayak and me were seated, and I looked out of the tram, I was bombed apart. I kept talking to her in my mind, I kept giving that imaginary her, all sorts of explanations like "Sayak wanted it, not me.", "Even you went for the launch ride", etc etc. I realised what I was doing, I wanted to cry. Then, I went to Dalhousie Square for the first time; i.e, the tram went, I saw it for the first time. I saw the Writers' Building and the lake before it, and all the palatial buildings around it. I thought it was beautiful. I didn't want to cry anymore, I was crying. I never wanted to do it. I never wanted to see anything beautiful without her. Yet she's making me do them. I have to see a lot of beautiful things without her. Oh, by the way, the news is that, I am neither going to Delhi, nor Mumbai, nor anywhere else. I don't have money enough. If, by any chance, I do get my hands on something, I'll flee, I swear.
A Coffee House disaster afterwards, I learnt that like "us", even Diya and Sayak's first movie together was Taare Zameen Par. I was reminded of the significance of the Enrique number Hero in their story. Similar to mine. I felt furious. I couldn't see any way how Diya could come back to Sayak. But she must return. There's too much of similarity between both the stories. Diya must return to Sayak, somehow.
Anyway, then I went to Disha's place, where Pupsen said that I looked drugged. I took his practicals and books, to do the diagrams that I had promised him a year ago. A sleepless night afterwards. Then, a sleep-ful morning. I had calmed down a lot by afternoon. Nothing much that day, except the late night chat with him, about her. When I say I am calm, it means I am numb. I feel nothing. I felt nothing.
Next day, an inpromptu-quiz. India Today Group's Inter College Business Quiz. It was held at Jyotirmoyee School Of Business at Sonarpur. We came third. I didn't feel anything then. I had gone "weak" once, when we had qualified for the final round. But, that wasn't weakness to my definition. Shauvik, my partner, called his father. Other people were calling their best friends or their parents. I had called her impulsively. She did't receive though. Anyway, as soon as the quiz was over, I left the place. I didn't wait for their free transportation back to Kolkata. Damn, I was in a village, in winter, I ought to enjoy it, and I can enjoy it only if I am alone! I travelled back home on my own, and travelled in a local train after nearly a year. It wasn't dark yet, and the train wasn't too crowded, in short, it was great. It reminded me of some Vivek Oberoi movie with a train scene in it. But, the name of Vivek Oberoi was about to spark reactions within, when I pushed aside all thoughts away, again.
The night was uneventful, even though I was at Disha's place, helping her give her Mom the birthday surprise at midnight. I was glad to see them happy, the three of them, but I didn't feel it rubbing off on me. I have become indifferent to them. Even Gublu, I have become indifferent to him too. Disha tried making me cry once, saying that I don't love her, I over-do the love thing, blah-blah. I managed to keep a straight face. But my voice was choked when I asked her for explanations.
I came back early morning, had a few intellectual discussions with father. Even that didn't excite me. I was supposed to go watch Kurbaan with Sayak. I couldn't. I had sworn that I won't watch anymore movies at theatres, because I am short of money. But, that's not the only reason behind not going to watch Kurbaan. I didn't want to watch Kurbaan with anyone. Then, I was supposed to take Sayak to LBC Fest, I have been promising him that since months. I didn't. I was incapable of doing it. He understood it. Because he has been through the exact phase. I slept, I had confusing dreams, I shivered in the 12o'clock sun, I was dazed. My head reeled for no reason, my migraine was back, awfully. My legs shook so badly that I couldn't even sit still. I had no track of the time or events around me. I was slightly better by evening. I went out, walked a kilometre. An important kilometre, at that. The stretch from South City to 8B. A damn important kilometre. I had to stop walking twice to stabilise my wobbly legs.
After that, I met the two of them. It wasn't unintentional this time. He made it happen. This time, he knew everything. He tested my acting skills, and I passed. I was at my best.
Coming back home, I read a bit of the book he gave me. I watched Chinese Coffeea bit. That movie is directed by Al Pacino himself. And after watching it, I respect him even more. I love the person more than the actor! Chinese Coffee's protagonist is so much like me. Except that he really has no money. The best similarity that comes to my mind, right now, looking around my own room, is Harry Levine's condition about being so used to living in a sunlight-less, small, cramped room, that he can never live in a large sunny room. He was a writer too, but with less of originality, and more of real-life inspiration, so much so, that his friend accused him of stealing his life. He shook badly when he was under stress. He loved a girl (with whom he had a relationship for a six and a half years), who left him long ago. The last similarity I'll mention here is what he told himself: "No matter what you do, how hard you try, how long you go at it, nothing good can ever, will ever, should ever happen for you."
Monday, November 16, 2009
Fluctuations, and more.
Firstly, I want everyone to read this.
http://ramblesofamelancholybore.blogspot.com/2009/11/elusive-neverland.html
The first paragraph describes EXACTLY what I had on my mind.
I had stopped reading others' blogs. But, the first few lines that appeared in the updates, attracted me.
Anyway, so the bad couple of days explain my absence here. No, I can't write all that happened. Before logging into my blog, I thought I didn't want to rite. Because it doesn't matter anyway. Whether I keep track of my fluctuating emotions, or not, it doesn't matter. Anyway, her voice to the aid, I'm so cheered now, that I want to write down everything. But I can't. Anyway, I respect her privacy.
It rained heavily today. Sayak and me finally watched a movie at the Kolkata Film Festival. Will watch one more with Amrita (a classmate) tomorrow. I walked from Dhakuria to Jadavpur with Sayak, getting wet to the skin. He kept talking. I kept thinking, and trying to cry. When I knew I would cry, few hours earlier, I kept a smile pasted on my lips, forcibly. And when I had the license to cry, damn, the lead ball stuck in my throat became obstinate. Torture, torture. I have to get drunk today. No, I don't need it. I am not in that bad a state today. I needed to get drunk on Saturday. But, I was so sick with lack of sleep and food (I went to a birthday party, mind you, but hardly touched any food.) I couldn't keep balance, I couldn't stand up straight without any support. I didn't have the energy to drink, though I had bought a 150ml bottle on my way back home. I knew it would be a tough day. But I had taken all the measures to ensure that I survive it. I didn't. Anyway, as I emphasise on my status messages everywhere: this wasn't the worst, worse is on its way.
Fluctuations persist. One moment, I'm virtually dead. I lose all my ability to think, to understand. This has been the most predominant feeling throughout today. Nothing matters. Nothing makes sense. Words like "sorry", and "Thank you" have stopped being magic words. They are just some sounds. Sounds don't make sense. Music don't sense. Movies don't make sense. What makes sense anyway? What matters, anyway?
Memories? Aah! Soon, someone else will have the same memories that I have. Even memories can be stolen, trust me. If she does all that she did with me, with him, doesn't he steal my memories as well? One moment I feel using the word "steal" is a crime. He didn't steal anything. He didn't take anything or anyone away from me. He needed just her permission, and she did give it. The next moment, mad with fury, I feel like accusing him of breach of protocol, accusing him of taking her away, taking the only good thing in my life away. What follows after the thought-swings is a feeling of numbness. As soon as I realise that what I think or feel doesn't matter, I stop thinking or feeling. And it doesn't matter, not because she doesn't care, but because I don't care. I fluctuate every milli-second. I am not constant. So why should I matter to myself?
Met a guy called Paras today. He's from the Computer Science Department of our college. I knew him by face, previously. But today, I got to know him. He's one cheerful, talkative, aggressive, idealist boy, who gives out positive vibes. I could feel them. Only that, my mind, absorbed in a pathetic solvent, couldn't absorb the vibes. I've become impervious to happiness. Everything that's happy and good hits me and deflects away.
I fluctuate even more because she does. She doesn't do it intentionally, or even consciously. One moment, she still cares for me, and the next moment she is indifferent to me. One moment, she just doesn't see me beside her. The next moment, she remembers that I was there. Damn. I am complaining about both. I don't want her to just care for me. I don't want to be a bother for her. If I say that I don't want her to be indifferent to me, that wouldn't be truth either. When she is indifferent to me, I suffer badly. But, a self-sadist that I am, I enjoy suffering. I feel better when she hurts me, than when she cares for me. I want her to hurt me, more and more. I remember those K-serials' cheesy dialogues. If you love someone, let her go. If she doesn't come back, she was never yours. No, fuck, that's not the point. The point is, if she comes back. And if she comes back, well, my favourite dialogue from Kumkum "Love is like a yo-yo. The farther you go, the greater force you'll come back with."
That's why I want her to torture me. Pathetic, aint' I? I'm still hoping that she'll come back. Damn. I don't know what to do, what to think. I tried falling in love back with my previous ex. It succeeded for a moment. Then, it all seemed so meaningless. All those "this is just a phase" consolations came back, confusing me even more. No, confusion would have been better. I am not confused. To be confused means to have two contradictory thoughts. Yeah, I do have contradictory thoughts, sometimes, but most of the times, I don't have any thoughts at all. My brain stop working, stop perceiving or understanding or even acting in response. And the rest of the times, I have more than two contradictory thoughts. Let's take the moment when they embraced. You won't believe how many things came to my mind at the same time!
"Will she hug me next?"
"Will I clap?"
"Will I just walk away?"
"will I look at them and make a sad face?"
"Will I smile?"
"Will she tell me something next?"
"Will he ask her to hug me too?"
By the time I decided that I would say something in appreciation, my throat had gone all dry, till it's innermost region. And I didn't get water when I asked for it. The moment passed away as SLOWLY as it happened. They left, I came back home. Numb, numb. I have to keep myself immersed in books, not movies. Books offer long-term distractions, unlike 3-hour movies.
I don't know what will happen next. I won't lose my sanity, not yet. But I might lose it soon. I am fluctuating badly between hope and despair, happiness and agony. From tomorrow onwards, I lose one more rope to hold on to. I could have had it, though. I don't feel I made a sacrifice for them. I feel selfish, because I know that I want to be hurt, because getting hurt gives me pleasure. I asked her to sacrifice one of the last bits of me left with her, because I want to get the pleasure. The pleasure out of the pain. I dunno anything. I am numb now, so I can't even cry. Let's see. I have to try to drink. Maybe that'll help me cry. Maybe that'll help me feel what I'm not letting myself feel.
http://ramblesofamelancholybore.blogspot.com/2009/11/elusive-neverland.html
The first paragraph describes EXACTLY what I had on my mind.
I had stopped reading others' blogs. But, the first few lines that appeared in the updates, attracted me.
Anyway, so the bad couple of days explain my absence here. No, I can't write all that happened. Before logging into my blog, I thought I didn't want to rite. Because it doesn't matter anyway. Whether I keep track of my fluctuating emotions, or not, it doesn't matter. Anyway, her voice to the aid, I'm so cheered now, that I want to write down everything. But I can't. Anyway, I respect her privacy.
It rained heavily today. Sayak and me finally watched a movie at the Kolkata Film Festival. Will watch one more with Amrita (a classmate) tomorrow. I walked from Dhakuria to Jadavpur with Sayak, getting wet to the skin. He kept talking. I kept thinking, and trying to cry. When I knew I would cry, few hours earlier, I kept a smile pasted on my lips, forcibly. And when I had the license to cry, damn, the lead ball stuck in my throat became obstinate. Torture, torture. I have to get drunk today. No, I don't need it. I am not in that bad a state today. I needed to get drunk on Saturday. But, I was so sick with lack of sleep and food (I went to a birthday party, mind you, but hardly touched any food.) I couldn't keep balance, I couldn't stand up straight without any support. I didn't have the energy to drink, though I had bought a 150ml bottle on my way back home. I knew it would be a tough day. But I had taken all the measures to ensure that I survive it. I didn't. Anyway, as I emphasise on my status messages everywhere: this wasn't the worst, worse is on its way.
Fluctuations persist. One moment, I'm virtually dead. I lose all my ability to think, to understand. This has been the most predominant feeling throughout today. Nothing matters. Nothing makes sense. Words like "sorry", and "Thank you" have stopped being magic words. They are just some sounds. Sounds don't make sense. Music don't sense. Movies don't make sense. What makes sense anyway? What matters, anyway?
Memories? Aah! Soon, someone else will have the same memories that I have. Even memories can be stolen, trust me. If she does all that she did with me, with him, doesn't he steal my memories as well? One moment I feel using the word "steal" is a crime. He didn't steal anything. He didn't take anything or anyone away from me. He needed just her permission, and she did give it. The next moment, mad with fury, I feel like accusing him of breach of protocol, accusing him of taking her away, taking the only good thing in my life away. What follows after the thought-swings is a feeling of numbness. As soon as I realise that what I think or feel doesn't matter, I stop thinking or feeling. And it doesn't matter, not because she doesn't care, but because I don't care. I fluctuate every milli-second. I am not constant. So why should I matter to myself?
Met a guy called Paras today. He's from the Computer Science Department of our college. I knew him by face, previously. But today, I got to know him. He's one cheerful, talkative, aggressive, idealist boy, who gives out positive vibes. I could feel them. Only that, my mind, absorbed in a pathetic solvent, couldn't absorb the vibes. I've become impervious to happiness. Everything that's happy and good hits me and deflects away.
I fluctuate even more because she does. She doesn't do it intentionally, or even consciously. One moment, she still cares for me, and the next moment she is indifferent to me. One moment, she just doesn't see me beside her. The next moment, she remembers that I was there. Damn. I am complaining about both. I don't want her to just care for me. I don't want to be a bother for her. If I say that I don't want her to be indifferent to me, that wouldn't be truth either. When she is indifferent to me, I suffer badly. But, a self-sadist that I am, I enjoy suffering. I feel better when she hurts me, than when she cares for me. I want her to hurt me, more and more. I remember those K-serials' cheesy dialogues. If you love someone, let her go. If she doesn't come back, she was never yours. No, fuck, that's not the point. The point is, if she comes back. And if she comes back, well, my favourite dialogue from Kumkum "Love is like a yo-yo. The farther you go, the greater force you'll come back with."
That's why I want her to torture me. Pathetic, aint' I? I'm still hoping that she'll come back. Damn. I don't know what to do, what to think. I tried falling in love back with my previous ex. It succeeded for a moment. Then, it all seemed so meaningless. All those "this is just a phase" consolations came back, confusing me even more. No, confusion would have been better. I am not confused. To be confused means to have two contradictory thoughts. Yeah, I do have contradictory thoughts, sometimes, but most of the times, I don't have any thoughts at all. My brain stop working, stop perceiving or understanding or even acting in response. And the rest of the times, I have more than two contradictory thoughts. Let's take the moment when they embraced. You won't believe how many things came to my mind at the same time!
"Will she hug me next?"
"Will I clap?"
"Will I just walk away?"
"will I look at them and make a sad face?"
"Will I smile?"
"Will she tell me something next?"
"Will he ask her to hug me too?"
By the time I decided that I would say something in appreciation, my throat had gone all dry, till it's innermost region. And I didn't get water when I asked for it. The moment passed away as SLOWLY as it happened. They left, I came back home. Numb, numb. I have to keep myself immersed in books, not movies. Books offer long-term distractions, unlike 3-hour movies.
I don't know what will happen next. I won't lose my sanity, not yet. But I might lose it soon. I am fluctuating badly between hope and despair, happiness and agony. From tomorrow onwards, I lose one more rope to hold on to. I could have had it, though. I don't feel I made a sacrifice for them. I feel selfish, because I know that I want to be hurt, because getting hurt gives me pleasure. I asked her to sacrifice one of the last bits of me left with her, because I want to get the pleasure. The pleasure out of the pain. I dunno anything. I am numb now, so I can't even cry. Let's see. I have to try to drink. Maybe that'll help me cry. Maybe that'll help me feel what I'm not letting myself feel.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Back
No more personal posts here, I'm stable. Yeah, I have mood fluctuations, but I have my goal clear. I want her to be happy. And she is happy. So, I'm happy. There are times when, in Neema's language, my blood boils. But if there's something I can't give her, and someone else can, I don't have a fucking right to object. I'll manage my fluctuations.
Done with the exams today. I did my best. I know I could have done better, but given the circumstances, it was pretty good. Thanks to all those who forced me to go for the exam when I was determined I won't!
Since the last two days I'm receiving a lot of love from Disha's mom. I know this is temporary. But I have to make use of it, till it's there. I have to use it to cheer myself up.
With all the birthdays coming and going, I'll have something to keep myself busy with, for quite sometime now. I overate last night at Jojo Da's birthday family party. And today, I didn't have anything all day. Compensated, I guess.
I dunno if I'll finally make it to a single movie at the Kolkata Film Festival. Hoping for some time next year, or the next! Hope again!
Anyway, one thing's confirmed, I'm watching 2012 alone. Also Tum Mile, which I never thought I'd watch (especially after the disasters the Bhatt family has been producing over the last few years). But I will. Back to my movie self again. No resolutions anymore. I can spend as much money as I want on my desires. Secondary desires, that is!
Praying for Puspen's recovery. He looks pretty awful, and that makes me feel awful as well.
I have all the Wong Kar Woi movies downloaded. Next, Akira Kurosawa. And Al Pacino will be my relief breaks! I love the man. Just saw a few scenes of Chinese Coffee. It is an under-rated movie, but supposed to be Pacino's 2nd best performance after The Godfather-s!
A lot of books on my way too...Chetan Bhagat's Two States (will start that tonight itself). Then Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. Then Hilary Clinton's Living History. More to come. Till my results are out, I have to finish all that I wanted to do this year.
Delhi seems to have taken control of my dreams, or rather nightmares. I have a bad dream whenever I go to sleep. I never experienced this kind of a thing before. That chain of nightmares at Durgapur, to start with...till today morning. I can't stop them, like I can't start my food habits all over again. But I'll manage. The toughest is yet to come. 19th-23rd December. I have no plan of action yet. One thing's good, I didn't get drunk any of these days yet! I wanted to, every night. But I didn't!
Anyway, I'll see what happens. I'll fight my emotions till they consume me. I'm not doing too bad right now. Except for one outburst.
I dunno. I just don't know. It's best I just stop my brain's functioning for sometime. Just enter a nitrogen freezer, and freeze myself, and all my metabolic functions till she gets married. I can allow my brain to start functioning after that, I guess. I dunno. I told you, I'm still not over the fluctuations. Right now, I'm feeling angry and sad at the same time. I was feeling happy a while ago, when I started writing this post. I'll stop before I blurt out unnecessary details.
Done with the exams today. I did my best. I know I could have done better, but given the circumstances, it was pretty good. Thanks to all those who forced me to go for the exam when I was determined I won't!
Since the last two days I'm receiving a lot of love from Disha's mom. I know this is temporary. But I have to make use of it, till it's there. I have to use it to cheer myself up.
With all the birthdays coming and going, I'll have something to keep myself busy with, for quite sometime now. I overate last night at Jojo Da's birthday family party. And today, I didn't have anything all day. Compensated, I guess.
I dunno if I'll finally make it to a single movie at the Kolkata Film Festival. Hoping for some time next year, or the next! Hope again!
Anyway, one thing's confirmed, I'm watching 2012 alone. Also Tum Mile, which I never thought I'd watch (especially after the disasters the Bhatt family has been producing over the last few years). But I will. Back to my movie self again. No resolutions anymore. I can spend as much money as I want on my desires. Secondary desires, that is!
Praying for Puspen's recovery. He looks pretty awful, and that makes me feel awful as well.
I have all the Wong Kar Woi movies downloaded. Next, Akira Kurosawa. And Al Pacino will be my relief breaks! I love the man. Just saw a few scenes of Chinese Coffee. It is an under-rated movie, but supposed to be Pacino's 2nd best performance after The Godfather-s!
A lot of books on my way too...Chetan Bhagat's Two States (will start that tonight itself). Then Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead. Then Hilary Clinton's Living History. More to come. Till my results are out, I have to finish all that I wanted to do this year.
Delhi seems to have taken control of my dreams, or rather nightmares. I have a bad dream whenever I go to sleep. I never experienced this kind of a thing before. That chain of nightmares at Durgapur, to start with...till today morning. I can't stop them, like I can't start my food habits all over again. But I'll manage. The toughest is yet to come. 19th-23rd December. I have no plan of action yet. One thing's good, I didn't get drunk any of these days yet! I wanted to, every night. But I didn't!
Anyway, I'll see what happens. I'll fight my emotions till they consume me. I'm not doing too bad right now. Except for one outburst.
I dunno. I just don't know. It's best I just stop my brain's functioning for sometime. Just enter a nitrogen freezer, and freeze myself, and all my metabolic functions till she gets married. I can allow my brain to start functioning after that, I guess. I dunno. I told you, I'm still not over the fluctuations. Right now, I'm feeling angry and sad at the same time. I was feeling happy a while ago, when I started writing this post. I'll stop before I blurt out unnecessary details.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Break
I'll be taking a break from blogging, for reasons best not said. I changed the title and all back to what it was originally when I started blogging. I changed the picture to Gublu's face because of the importance he has in my story. I wanted to put up the picture of the other Gublu in my life (the first Gublu, in fact), and I did that too, but then I realised it would not be safe. My whole blog might be deleted without my permission if I put it.
I have an exam tomorrow, another exam day after tomorrow. Kolkata Film Festival has already started from today. So, right when my exam is over, I'll devote myself to it.
Last night, I had severe mood swings again. One moment I was super-excited (with all the birthday planning) and the next moment I was super-depressed (with all the birthday plannings seeming meaningless and aimless).
Today, I kept myself busy again. It's not that I didn't cry. I had cried while watching Jail, but at completely un-emotional scenes, unlike my other companions. I had cried a number of other times too. And thankfully, the person whom I used to hate for reading my face few weeks ago, has lost her ability to read my face!
Anyway, I just had a shock (while typing this blog). I dunno if I can study. The awful shivering is back. But I can't write anything anymore. For a long time to come.
I have an exam tomorrow, another exam day after tomorrow. Kolkata Film Festival has already started from today. So, right when my exam is over, I'll devote myself to it.
Last night, I had severe mood swings again. One moment I was super-excited (with all the birthday planning) and the next moment I was super-depressed (with all the birthday plannings seeming meaningless and aimless).
Today, I kept myself busy again. It's not that I didn't cry. I had cried while watching Jail, but at completely un-emotional scenes, unlike my other companions. I had cried a number of other times too. And thankfully, the person whom I used to hate for reading my face few weeks ago, has lost her ability to read my face!
Anyway, I just had a shock (while typing this blog). I dunno if I can study. The awful shivering is back. But I can't write anything anymore. For a long time to come.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Good Versus Bad
Monday. 9th November. I went to college against all my innermost desires. Because I had given word to Shauvik that I would go to listen to his story with Aadhya. And because I was supposed to get the lighter I had lost, back.
When I missed the station Girish Park, thanks to my silent monologues, I decided to walk upto college from Sovabazaar. I did. The weather was pleasant, and I didn't sweat much. When I entered the college, I saw the notice boards advertising a lot of cultural events coming up. Silent monologues again, I entered the hall. Met Sunanda from Hem Sheela. I crossed the hall, my feet asking to stop every minute. Below the staircase, I saw a few of my classmates standing, him among them. I was filled with both anger and pain at the same time. I hurried upstairs, avoiding eye-contact with anyone. Once upstairs, I looked around me, and not seeing any familiar faces, I tried to cry, and let it out. My eyes had squeezed and opened to find two of my classmates arriving. More poured in. My throat stuck, I tired making vague smiles with my facial muscles. A guy came and punched me in the stomach, and asked me "ki khobor?" (what's the news?). I replied that my tummy-line is increasing, and smiled with closed eyes.
I sat in the first bench (as usual). I remembered how I used to enjoy sitting in the last bench till 12; you could get the view of the whole class, what everyone's doing and all, from the last bench.
He came in; I saw it with the corner of my eyes. I tried to focus on the diary in front of me. The white and red design: ACC. I opened the last pages, and began reading the poems there. Three of them. After a while, he called me and asked me to go and sit on the bench before him and his gang. I had still not recovered. I asked a violent "Kyun?". He gestured something that meant "okay, be there". That started the process, I was calming down. Then Neema called me. I stared at her for one whole minute. Her eyes. Ok, I told her I have a crush on her, so I must obey her, I thought. I don't know if I have a crush on her. I like her looks, and when she talks to me in person, I feel different, because I can't help thinking that SHE knows everything. Damn, she knows everything. Anyway, I took my bag and notebook, and went to that bench. The view was awkward. The five rows in front of me were empty. As if the whole class was behind me, and even the teacher would come and stand behind us, and we would have to turn around soon. It was very, very awkward for a permanent first-bencher like me. I turned around and told Neema that the view is awkward, and she replied that, that's how the class always looks, and everyone sits at the back.
I was calming down. I opened a blank page, and tried to think of some poem. Then I turned back a few more pages, and I heard his voice behind me, reading the stuff on the page open. I turned round at him. I was calming down. I could make it. I'm not sure where I was looking, when he said that he forgot to bring my lighter. I was furious. He said sorry. That made me even more furious. Thoughts ran around like mice inside my head. I remembered that she said she'll kill me (she had said quite seriously) if I teach him to smoke. I felt like telling her that I'll kill him if I don't do well in the exam, because I was supposed to study today morning; I came to college only because of the lighter. I also imagined other implications of the "sorry". The breach of protocol that he is indulging in, by falling in love with her, and all that. Puspen came to my mind ("breach of protocol" is Puspen's remark, mind you). I tried to think like Puspen. Ok, I am strong, I am stoic, I don't have feelings. You can't kill my heart, because I don't have a heart. I am impervious to sorrow and happiness. That helped in calming me down instantly. I remembered Dada, and imagined that he would be proud of me today.
The class started. I couldn't concentrate. But, never mind, I was not feeling bad. Afterwards, I did talk to him a lot. I talked to his friends, I talked to other classmates, I talked to Shauvik (wait for the Aadhya story), I talked to her ex-classmate too, and told her about HIM & HER, and introduced them to each other, saw him blushing at the mention of her name, talked to HIM about her, and about things other than her, perfectly normally, fake-smiling all the time. By the time I was leaving college, Mission Pretension was so successful that when I told myself "Okay, the acting is over, you can be yourself now.", I found it difficult to take the fake smile off my face; so well it was pasted!
I told Disha how his being so good with me makes things worse, how his concern for my "smiling", my studies etc, make matters worse. If he would have been a bad person, things would have been better. But sadly, he's very good, or rather he's the best.
Anyway, then I was on my way to South City, to try and gift-shop. I changed my mind and took the train back. I went to New Market to buy a nose pin from Chamba Lama and a brass chain for my pet dog from Simpark Mall. Chamba Lama people told me there won't be any nose-pins till Sunday. And Simpark Mall, as I found out, remains closed on Mondays. I had a good conversation with Payal, and that helped me clear my mind about the impending gift shopping to be done. Half-prepared, I came back home. I can't write anything more, I have to talk him and her to give the final touches to my plans. And if I write it here, she might just read it and the surprise would be gone.
I didn't sleep much last night. So, I'll try and sleep now.
He told me he'll give me his notes on the Gender Issues and Development thing. (told you, he's just too good!)So, I can have that thing off my mind.
The outcome of whatever's happening has both good and bad to it.
Good ones first:
1. He's the incentive to my going to college.
2. I've got someone to talk to at college. I hope, my "go alone-sit alone-leave alone" days are over.
3. I was praying for change, because I was fed up of the stagnant state of our relationship. Here's the change I exactly wanted!
Nevertheless, bad ones:
1. I don't have a single soul on earth whom I can tell EVERYTHING, truthfully. I have to wear a mask all day, everyday, everywhere, with everyone. Even the ones who know everything (like Disha and Neema) can't influence me to be myself, and as I realised the first day this started, I am pretending to happy with them too! I just tell them the facts, but I say everything with a chuckle. Puspen and Sayak can be called exceptions. I can be myself with them, but I hardly meet them, and if I am with any of them it means I'm busy trying to keep myself busy, so no depressing talk! Puspen is different than Sayak. He's more like my strength, than a friend. God-father ho toh aisa! :)
2. Its a continuation of the first point. I don't have an inspiration anymore, no one to tell me what to do, when to do, how to do. I don't have anyone who'll get angry one me!
3. I can hardly have any solid food anymore, without excreting it out (in any form) within no time.
No more bragging about it. Whatever happens, happens for the best. And I am quite okay now. I hate to admit why I'm okay, when I'm okay, but well, it's the unbreakable faith that destiny will be in my favor. Even though, "destiny" above all things have been against me all these days, I still hope it's just a phase. Everything will be ok. So why waste time sulking?
I'll go to sleep now, and try to study when I wake up.
When I missed the station Girish Park, thanks to my silent monologues, I decided to walk upto college from Sovabazaar. I did. The weather was pleasant, and I didn't sweat much. When I entered the college, I saw the notice boards advertising a lot of cultural events coming up. Silent monologues again, I entered the hall. Met Sunanda from Hem Sheela. I crossed the hall, my feet asking to stop every minute. Below the staircase, I saw a few of my classmates standing, him among them. I was filled with both anger and pain at the same time. I hurried upstairs, avoiding eye-contact with anyone. Once upstairs, I looked around me, and not seeing any familiar faces, I tried to cry, and let it out. My eyes had squeezed and opened to find two of my classmates arriving. More poured in. My throat stuck, I tired making vague smiles with my facial muscles. A guy came and punched me in the stomach, and asked me "ki khobor?" (what's the news?). I replied that my tummy-line is increasing, and smiled with closed eyes.
I sat in the first bench (as usual). I remembered how I used to enjoy sitting in the last bench till 12; you could get the view of the whole class, what everyone's doing and all, from the last bench.
He came in; I saw it with the corner of my eyes. I tried to focus on the diary in front of me. The white and red design: ACC. I opened the last pages, and began reading the poems there. Three of them. After a while, he called me and asked me to go and sit on the bench before him and his gang. I had still not recovered. I asked a violent "Kyun?". He gestured something that meant "okay, be there". That started the process, I was calming down. Then Neema called me. I stared at her for one whole minute. Her eyes. Ok, I told her I have a crush on her, so I must obey her, I thought. I don't know if I have a crush on her. I like her looks, and when she talks to me in person, I feel different, because I can't help thinking that SHE knows everything. Damn, she knows everything. Anyway, I took my bag and notebook, and went to that bench. The view was awkward. The five rows in front of me were empty. As if the whole class was behind me, and even the teacher would come and stand behind us, and we would have to turn around soon. It was very, very awkward for a permanent first-bencher like me. I turned around and told Neema that the view is awkward, and she replied that, that's how the class always looks, and everyone sits at the back.
I was calming down. I opened a blank page, and tried to think of some poem. Then I turned back a few more pages, and I heard his voice behind me, reading the stuff on the page open. I turned round at him. I was calming down. I could make it. I'm not sure where I was looking, when he said that he forgot to bring my lighter. I was furious. He said sorry. That made me even more furious. Thoughts ran around like mice inside my head. I remembered that she said she'll kill me (she had said quite seriously) if I teach him to smoke. I felt like telling her that I'll kill him if I don't do well in the exam, because I was supposed to study today morning; I came to college only because of the lighter. I also imagined other implications of the "sorry". The breach of protocol that he is indulging in, by falling in love with her, and all that. Puspen came to my mind ("breach of protocol" is Puspen's remark, mind you). I tried to think like Puspen. Ok, I am strong, I am stoic, I don't have feelings. You can't kill my heart, because I don't have a heart. I am impervious to sorrow and happiness. That helped in calming me down instantly. I remembered Dada, and imagined that he would be proud of me today.
The class started. I couldn't concentrate. But, never mind, I was not feeling bad. Afterwards, I did talk to him a lot. I talked to his friends, I talked to other classmates, I talked to Shauvik (wait for the Aadhya story), I talked to her ex-classmate too, and told her about HIM & HER, and introduced them to each other, saw him blushing at the mention of her name, talked to HIM about her, and about things other than her, perfectly normally, fake-smiling all the time. By the time I was leaving college, Mission Pretension was so successful that when I told myself "Okay, the acting is over, you can be yourself now.", I found it difficult to take the fake smile off my face; so well it was pasted!
I told Disha how his being so good with me makes things worse, how his concern for my "smiling", my studies etc, make matters worse. If he would have been a bad person, things would have been better. But sadly, he's very good, or rather he's the best.
Anyway, then I was on my way to South City, to try and gift-shop. I changed my mind and took the train back. I went to New Market to buy a nose pin from Chamba Lama and a brass chain for my pet dog from Simpark Mall. Chamba Lama people told me there won't be any nose-pins till Sunday. And Simpark Mall, as I found out, remains closed on Mondays. I had a good conversation with Payal, and that helped me clear my mind about the impending gift shopping to be done. Half-prepared, I came back home. I can't write anything more, I have to talk him and her to give the final touches to my plans. And if I write it here, she might just read it and the surprise would be gone.
I didn't sleep much last night. So, I'll try and sleep now.
He told me he'll give me his notes on the Gender Issues and Development thing. (told you, he's just too good!)So, I can have that thing off my mind.
The outcome of whatever's happening has both good and bad to it.
Good ones first:
1. He's the incentive to my going to college.
2. I've got someone to talk to at college. I hope, my "go alone-sit alone-leave alone" days are over.
3. I was praying for change, because I was fed up of the stagnant state of our relationship. Here's the change I exactly wanted!
Nevertheless, bad ones:
1. I don't have a single soul on earth whom I can tell EVERYTHING, truthfully. I have to wear a mask all day, everyday, everywhere, with everyone. Even the ones who know everything (like Disha and Neema) can't influence me to be myself, and as I realised the first day this started, I am pretending to happy with them too! I just tell them the facts, but I say everything with a chuckle. Puspen and Sayak can be called exceptions. I can be myself with them, but I hardly meet them, and if I am with any of them it means I'm busy trying to keep myself busy, so no depressing talk! Puspen is different than Sayak. He's more like my strength, than a friend. God-father ho toh aisa! :)
2. Its a continuation of the first point. I don't have an inspiration anymore, no one to tell me what to do, when to do, how to do. I don't have anyone who'll get angry one me!
3. I can hardly have any solid food anymore, without excreting it out (in any form) within no time.
No more bragging about it. Whatever happens, happens for the best. And I am quite okay now. I hate to admit why I'm okay, when I'm okay, but well, it's the unbreakable faith that destiny will be in my favor. Even though, "destiny" above all things have been against me all these days, I still hope it's just a phase. Everything will be ok. So why waste time sulking?
I'll go to sleep now, and try to study when I wake up.
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