Fuck you 2016, You were horrible.

12 months of Sobriety!

I can’t imagine myself to be so nice about something dreadful as the year 2016. Saying Fuck you only sells short the nightmare which I am yet to wake up from. 2016 should already get over from me, to pave the way for a bleak 2017 because I honestly have had enough of it. 2016 doesn’t have any clue of what it did to me neither do I. Seriously, What the hell did I do in 2016? Took a momentary pause in time? Or completely fucked it up against all will.

Okay, here are my reasons.

To begin with, in the year 2016, I searched in google for the nearest counseling centers, I watched YouTube videos on how to overcome depression. Two things which I can’t remember doing in earlier years.

2016 was like the movie Sanam Teri Kasam. I thought it will have a better ending. But it didn’t.

2016 told me that “There are sorrow and pain in everyone’s life, but every now and then there’s a ray of light that melts the loneliness in your heart and brings comfort like hot soup and a soft bed” but later, it pinched my nipples and said “Just kidding, have this hot, stressed-out head and awful Latte”.

2016 served me with a salad. It was a mixture of confusion, disgust and a feeling of always being completely lost. It wasn’t hatred, fear or jealousy. I felt naive. I succumbed to the whole sadness in it. I drowned and reached further down. And there was rock bottom.

It was nothing like whatever I have felt till now. It was new. It made me wander in streets, not respond to people and worse, — I lost appetite. It surely made no sense to me — finding the root of it. Maybe I knew but just couldn’t accept it.

In 2016, I yelled at my friends over petty things.

I thought and thought till my head started to hurt.

I couldn’t find a way to say exactly how I was feeling and also couldn’t hold the drama from inside. It came out in tears, in a series of chained depressing thoughts and finally I crashed down on a table.

2016 was about meeting interesting people, building too much about them in the head, and then getting disappointed.

Fuck you 2016, for making me go behind people being completely nonchalant about my self-worth. Also, Fuck you for turning them into monsters and leaving me astray in a cosmos of melancholy.

Fuck you for making me feel like a plastic bag, a worthless piece of shit, a potato, a loser, a Gunther, a nomad, a lone wanderer and a frog.

Fuck you for creating a huge crater and dumping me inside, while always pretending you had no part in it.

Err! Haters can say that it was not the year 2016 but my actions which led to all this but No, That is not the case. Look, I am just not showing the finger to 2016, instead, I will go up to god and gesture this against 2016.

 

I honestly want the events to be reversed and analyzed again. Check if I really deserved all of it. I cannot just walk away witnessing everything go worse. But we don’t have reviews in life. Neither can we stand against umpire’s decision. In this case, the Almighty.

But, I’m no walker.

Fuck you 2016, for being an agonizing heap of anxiety, a disgusting grotesque period in time, and for nurturing phoniness throughout.

Fuck your inclination towards ripping off every piece of motivation that pushed me to fight. Fuck you, for promoting loathe.

Fuck your shameless disposition to laud the fake and stomp on propriety.

Seriously, Fuck you 2016.

Haste and Patience.

Hey Dear Reader,

It’s been long since I told you about my life. You kept asking me when I would speak up. I doubted myself whether I would ever write something. Because to write – you gotta feel something. I feel nothing. Now, if I have to gather up any creativity left in me to write about the hollowness or the small pit of thoughts I ponder about, this post could be it. It is a dead man’s punch, look for yourself whether he has anything up his sleeves.

Jeez. I talk like a person who has seen everything in life and tired by the ugly truth in it. I wish I could sound positive. But nobody does these days. All of my friends these days start the conversation with a note “it’s boring”. I put my effort in making it the most interesting conversation possible but it is either I get tired of doing it all the time or they don’t find it interesting anymore. Even Game of thrones is becoming boring for them.

I wake up every day with a zeal to conquer the world but by the end of the day, I am covered in self-doubt. At some point, I had even reached the “Compare-Despair”. I cannot ever earn that much money like him, I cannot get a girl like her. Such a putz I am. I must be in some kind of never-ending Comatose or a mare’s nest. For now, that is how it feels like. It is survival more than money making.

It took me a lot of time to digest the fact that it has been one year since I left the college. I miss those days when I used to spend an entire day solving word puzzles in Library, binge watching serials in the hostel and wait for all of my 15 friends just to go for dinner. It was like a festival. Every moment crowded with friends. But now, it is different. It is just empty and alone. All I can hear is my own voice. I just cannot be myself. I have to wear a fake attitude. A false bravado. I feel exposed. I feel naked and left to find my clothes. It is not a pretty sight.

There is a harsh truth in everything. You get disappointed when you become aware of it. It changes the way you look at things. It is like reading a book. It is the same lines which convey different meaning every time you read. They say life gets better. No, it gets clearer. Every passing day, the fog clears and you get to see people differently and the whole experience. I wasn’t prepared for any of this. There is the beauty in it. A lost boy finding paths in his journey.

But hey, I did find a reason to wake up in the morning and survive till night. I did find a friend who makes my day bright. In the end, that is how life works. You solve one problem, then the next. And another. One thing at a time and it compounds. Make tiny tweaks, they make the big changes. Just remember, what doesn’t kill you, only makes you stronger.

Thanks for reading.

With Love,

A Fighter.

A Late Journal

Dear Self,

There was a black goat at the grocery shop today. It looked scary. Something told me that it didn’t particularly like me. Before I could calculate the exact time when I should start to run, it had already begun chasing me.

So, What do I do when there is an angry goat is seconds away from doing this to me?

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I am thinking nothing is bad than this. I thought the same the last time I was hurt, confused and left to ponder but I am obliged now to say so. This is the worst summer. This is the lowest point in my life. I wish we had a measure for it so that the next time I’m low, there is a card that tells me “hey, it’s not bad as before, don’t overthink”.

My table, My bed, My cubicle, and all the other things I have an affair with are telling me that I am living a bizarre life.

I have lost people and creativity.

Yet, I still have to be in the race and run.

I support RCB and Arsenal and both have won nothing in last 9 years. I wish starks ruled the Seven Kingdoms but the entire house is now left with a blind girl, a cripple, a bastard, a stupid and a worthless Rickon.

I sit to write down but nothing comes to mind. I move away from the screen and all negative things fill up the empty spaces. I wish my blog was as full as my mind and my mind as empty as plain white paper.

Everyone I am close with are present geographically all over the places and I hardly get to meet them. Texts and phone talks are so cliches, I try to stay away from anything virtual. Sometimes I get tired of talking to myself or feeling lonely in a crowded place. I want to break out.

I am crawling to reach anywhere . Limping, falling on knees, sweating, yielding and then getting back at it again.

I am consistently failing to understand what life is all about. I come up with an understanding. I try to link it with every day’s events and then boom, it turns out that I had it all wrong. I have to decide whether I should look for answers or just leave the question blank.

My thoughts squander over pity things. A face looms over with eyes that aren’t bright, a chin faking an expression, lips trying to say things masking the truth.

I chose to laugh somehow. On the surface. The laugh sometimes becomes hysterical at times because when I expect least from people, they even fail to reach least of my expectations.

I do this.

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So, at this point, as I laugh again, I have to believe that all bad things have an end.

That it is okay to fail.

That the over-hyped “Everything will be alright” and “This too shall pass” are true.

I will press on. I will persevere. I will make time for friends, family, and blog. I will rise up and shine unless life has something else planned for me.

 

 

My Long term Relationship With I Don’t know!

My friend has just lost his job. He had not found the road at all. When he finally did, his boss fired him for coming 5 minutes late to office. He called me from a bus, lost in a city where he knew no one. I didn’t pick up the call. I was in office. I am really tired of telling people this reason  but missing his call was the meanest thing I did being a friend. I called later that night and I was blinded by the sheer sadness it had with it.

He asked me for solutions. Honestly, I didn’t have any. 

He asked me What should he do now. I Didn’t know. 

There was this girl whom I met years ago. What I could make of her first interaction with me was, she is a bad girl. It is not that I judged her right away at the first time but it is my very instinct that categorizes people suddenly. I don’t have a control over it neither it ever stops me from grouping people into the good / bad category.

I cannot figure out anymore. Do we have the right to call someone bad? Even if we had, how will we define bad? Lately, I’ve noticed I had got everything wrong in this perspective. People whom I thought bad are so comforting & good to me now and whom I thought were good, now make me wanna stab them. So, it slowly becomes a puzzle. The notion of Bad.

The same girl recently asked me if she was a bitch. I didn’t know. 

Rahul brought me a band that tracks my fitness level. I set a goal of walking 2000 steps per day. I told myself that I will walk so many steps no matter what. I did 3000 steps that day. I set 4000 as my new goal. I walked 8000 the next day. The app Congratulated me for burning so many grams of fat and calories.

I was happy. I hoped that one day the fat that has built a rubber wall around my belly would someday vanish. I showed the stats to my colleague. He said, “Way to go!”.

The same day, I ate a complete south Indian meal that had more than 25 items in it. The Worst thing is, I ate in front of my colleague.

He asked, “This meal is soo gonna help you burn calories, right?”. Oh, the irony.

It was plumb. I was out of my mind. I don’t know was written all over my face.

My Little brother was doing his science homework. He came to me with a doubt and a curious face asking “can men get pregnant?”. I was more than a little surprised. What has got him thinking like that? “What exactly do you wanna know?” I asked.

“My Science teacher asked us this question after the class and told us to find the answer by tomorrow,” He said.

I asked him to talk with his friends, come back to me and tell what she actually had asked. He came 10 minutes later.

“A male can get pregnant and deliver babies in certain species. She wants to know which animal is that”. He said.

I don’t –  Wait, I knew the answer for this one, though.

“Tell your teacher that it is a seahorse,” I said. I wanted to explain him about how it works but he is a boy. I knew, he’ll come to know eventually. Maybe he already knew, I don’t know.

I’ve always struggled with I don’t know. Like the time when the gravitational waves stretched and squeezed me, I didn’t know what they were. Like the time I wrote 10 pages of crap for a girl, and the universe asked me why I was doing that anyway?.

There are too many things to know. Maybe there is nothing to be known at all. All the explanations can be a woven story we just listen to without questioning.  Digging the Why’s,What’s and How’s can twist your neurons like an earphone cable. You can read books as many as you want but they don’t have the answer for everything.

Maybe life is not about knowing the answers. Maybe life is about finding the answers. When questions hit you in the nuts, you might have to just say ‘owie’ and lie down. Then get up and find what it meant.

My lost friend has a new job now. He is more than happy.

My little brother still sucks at biology.

I’ve hit the goal of 5000 steps, 7 days in a row.

I can talk about gravitational waves for hours if you’re kind enough to listen.

The 10-page crap is finally in the hands of the girl and she now wants me to write the Eulogy for her – The Fault In Our Stars Style!

So I’ll be clueless, but not ignorant. I’ll try to solve 1% of the puzzle if not the whole. 

Thank you, lovely reader. Have a great day.

 

1/1/2016

 

You know What? I’m So happy today!

You know Why? Because I could fuck up dd/mm format and you wouldn’t know it.

I’m working in my office today, Yeah, You heard me right.

Hari called me to wish today.

“Hey bro, Happy new year!!!!!!” He wished.

“Happy Birthday Dude!” I wished at the same time as he did.

“It’s not my birthday today”. He was confused.

“I’m sorry, I’m too stupid, Happy new year bro. It’s the third time I’m wishing someone Happy birthday instead of Happy new year. Anyway, Happy new year bro”. I said, disgusted.

“Man, I tell ya, We had a party, we danced, drank and I don’t remember the rest but It was Legendary bro!!” He said.

“Wow, That is soo cool”.

“What did you do bro” He asked me.

“I took a shower, I went to a temple and now I am in Office”. I said.

“Whaat, That is all you did? Don’t you bathe everyday? What unforgettable and special about that?”

“Hello, you drink every week. you dance when you are drunk. So Except if your friends were not from ISIS, I cannot consider your new year bash as Legendary”. I said.

“Dude, Come on, It’s 1/1/2016/. It’s gonna be in my memory forever because this day doesn’t repeat! Ever.” His Justification.

“Then the Shower I’ll take on 2/1/2016 is gonna be special too coz tomorrow doesn’t repeat! Ever”. I said just waiting for him to fall into a trap that I was setting.

“Listen. Today marks the start of a new year”. He was annoyed.

“What about the other 364 who are just as important as today and constitute 2016. You just celebrate one day say it’s special and interesting? What is gonna change in one day except the calendar? Don’t even get me started on the Interesting day paradox”

All days are interesting. The proof is by contradiction: if there exists a non-empty set of uninteresting days, there would be a oldest uninteresting day – but the oldest uninteresting day is itself interesting because it is the oldest uninteresting day, producing a contradiction.

“Woah! I didn’t understand a thing. It all went over my head but yeah, You may be correct. You’re still into maths, writing and stuff and I am into drinking, road trips and stuffs. Years change but this taste of Heineken doesn’t. Although, You know what I can suggest, try to be less Sarcastic in 2016 bro”.

“Ya Sure” I said.

“Now, Was that sarcastic?” He asked.

“No. It was not” I giggled.

“I don’t wanna get into “The sarcastic paradox”, So bye, Have a great year”

“You too”.

I hung up.

So Happy New Year Everyone!

Not Everyone, Just the ones who are reading this, My readers and fellow bloggers. Because it is You, who make me sit down in front of this myriad years old computer and type my heart out. Have a great year and make good memories in 2016 that you’re actually gonna remember on, I don’t know, DEC 2016.

 

 

 

 

Pouring it Out.

I strongly believe that I have not been too Candid in my blogs. I say things and then just put some imaginative stuffs to make them sound fancy. So here I am, in this simple and plain post telling you about my life.

I started college with a shite understanding of what college meant. I hardly knew the spelling. Collage or College? eh. when I joined,  I was told that if I took care of writing exams and scoring good, everything will eventually fall into pieces. I believed in the same idea and confined myself around the feeling less species called books. I never studied from xerox and I just loved purchasing books and reading every line like a nerd.

I enjoyed it because I was doing what I believed that would make a successful person. Ultimately everyone wants a successful ending and a perfect life. I somehow felt that I was doing just the right thing.

Then I met this guy who was incredibly intelligent in all the technology aspects. It just surprised me how different we were, being of the same age. I eventually became jealous of his immense knowledge and realized all the bookish concepts are bullshit if I didn’t know where exactly they were used.

We became friends. Then we became best buddies. We bought the same phone. When I held the phone and talked to him about it’s specifications, our discussion involved so many words that you don’t find in textbooks. He would learn something new and used to tell it instantly. These little things amazed me.

I wanted to learn more. When my friends were getting drunk and getting laid, I was surfing theverge.com and was having knowledge-gasm.

In the beginning, I used to stay away from hangouts and night outs. Later, I was left out. This didn’t sadden me, instead I dug too deep to find more.

A year later, I became desperate for a job. Getting a job meant success then. I got one and someone finally had found me useful. I had done it. So I left college thinking that all my struggles are over.

So 4 years of uphill struggle and from now on, it’ll all be smooth I thought. I’ve had enough of mugging, copying, writing exams and stalking my crush like a creep.

When I started working, here’s how my life went.

1st Week : Hell yea, I’m a professional. Look at all the smart people here.

2nd Week: Wait, This is something new. Something fun.

3rd Week: This isn’t what I studied or read. But I’m learning something cool.

4th week : Fuck knowledge, Fuck being desperate for money. I got my first salary, so Middle finger to growth and doing what you love.

5th Week : Oh no, This isn’t what I ordered.

6th Week : Is there a reverse button to my life somewhere. I just wanna go few months back.

2nd Month : What Am I doing?

3rd month : Why Am I still doing?

I broke down. It was all just too hard to accept. May be I had set bars too high for myself. I had over thought and dreamed of fantasies. Life was taking it’s toll. I just couldn’t breathe.

I was walking down the lane and just collapsed. I just sat and watched people go by, the vehicles and the city life. Rahul called me and asked why I wasn’t in the PG yet. I told him i’m on my way and continued staying in a state of reverie. I was stressed the whole time. I tried to be ubiquitous studying for other exams, joining a course and acting in a short film. I threw my hands at everything.

All this attempts lead me nowhere. While I was trying too much, thinking too much and planning too much, Life happened. I gave up everything because I couldn’t change it. I had lost it. I didn’t know what I was doing.

Some more days passed. I started writing a Journal. I read blogs and lots and lots of books. I even wrote more on my blog. I made friends. I went out and had good food. All these little things finally made me to settle mentally and not worry too much at this time.

I slowed down. I got adjusted to the pace of the universe.

I am still doing the same job but I don’t know if everything i did for last 4 years  4 moths make sense or not, but I am content. I am in love with present tense 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Of Droplets and Thoughts

They stood still like they were cautious that everything might collapse. They were holding onto something which only a poet or an artist can understand. No one around them made a sound. They would fall any minute. I knew, but I simply watched them play their part. I had woken up and it had rained heavily. Looked like everything was repainted for something new.

Through the window, I looked at the streets. The window had been washed and was clean as a crystal with some water drops caught in a web. Oh the drops of water. Did the rain gods scattered you on what they thought was a Cartesian plane? Because I think you have been eclectically sprinkled on this glass sheet so as to capture your fall.

As I breathed through my mouth, the window glass became a unfathomable mystery. A moment later, the glass was Lucid again. The breathing duties were shifted back to my nose. It was very calm. The bus danced through Indian roads but their ability to stand still was uncanny.

I started to count. 23 water droplets stuck on a 2D plane. Not aware of any chaos around. After I got in the bus, I was very angry at myself for not bringing an earphone. There was no network signal to even chat or call. May be it had to be like that. Me going on a journey from office to a better place. And most importantly, spending time with myself.

Watching these droplets was the only thing I did. Many villages passed behind the glass but my gaze was constant. Can I connect myself to them? Do they know they’re being watched? 

A sudden break was applied and the drops moved down few centimeters. They followed a similar pattern as if they all had decided, they would all go down together. It was peaceful. Minutes later, I was feeling less anxious. I was wondering whether my thoughts could be like them. Undisturbed.

I started to speak to them. I felt weird and stupid. But I knew they were listening. My thoughts were parallel with the droplets but on a different plane. They were still too. I wished they stayed the same. I smiled and saw my face distorted in each of the droplets. I had studied in Physics why they tend to have a spherical shape but laughed again because frankly, I didn’t understand a thing about surface tension. The surface tension in my mind was momentarily gone and I was just happy about that.

Then came a Juggernaut of a water drop out of nowhere and rolled right through the middle of this abstract canvas and what remained was just the debris. The new picture made no sense to me as the previous beauty did. I opened the window and my village was near. My thought which were still now went back to being squandered and a recondite analogy was just evidenced stronger.   

 

The One about How Stupid I am.

If my understanding of the world is correct, then, it must be true that the only way to look cool today is by doing less stupid things. This world is full of stupid people. You cannot be intelligent and smart. You can only be less stupid than the others. Just like in maths exam, you might have gotten the final answer wrong but there will be another guy, who would have taken wrong values of X and Y. Not any of this is reflected in this post but while you’re reading this, at some point, you can relate how stupid I was and how less stupid I could have been. Next time you see me, you can come to me and say, “I’ve been more stupid than you” or say, “Compared to me, you are just a baboon with a B.E Degree”.

Let’s cut to the chase.

My friends had planned for a weekend getaway. Since, I don’t go out too much, I agreed to join them so that I can get some fresh air outside the workplace. To be super honest, my workplace stinks of armpits, socks and compilation errors. As the weekend neared, I grew more excited. The day had arrived. Friday. I was just 12 hours away from meeting 3 new people from work, in a place miles away. I was just 24 hours away from getting texts from one of those three people saying “You’re not like how you look”. I was just 24 hours and 1 minute away from looking at my phone screen and laughing, “why do people keep confounding me for a different person”.

But, shit happened. There were drummers outside the office who had just finished a masterclass performance and were ready for an encore. I am a shy person so I had avoided the dance on the previous occasion. But on Friday, I was plain stupid. I was mesmerized by their performance so some idiot part of my brain pushed me to a pool of sweating men, dancing to their own beats. I kept my glasses inside my pocket and went like this.

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Few minutes later, A guy nudged me and handed me something saying “are these yours?”. Yes, they were mine. My broken glasses. That was a sign that, in 24 hours and 1 minute, I’ll be staring at a blurred screen. I still kept dancing and when the beat stopped I noticed that I had hurt myself. The hard nail of my left leg’s thumb had come off. Almost come off and had started to bleed a little. All my predictions about the next 24 hours were flushed down the toilet.

My stupid saga didn’t end there. The sad part of it.

Today, it repeated. Only worse.

A very close friend of mine had moved to Bangalore, a month back. I hadn’t met her because I WAS BUSY? 

I went to the place she had shared the location of. Google maps, I love you. I was happy to see her. She still carried that charm she had it in college. She had only grown prettier ever since. (Spoiler: She has a boyfriend and it is not me). She is Khaleesi and I am Ser Jorah Mormont. I don’t why I keep referencing Game of Thrones, but you’ll know how good this comparison is if you have watched the show. 

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We talked near her bike until our legs started to hurt. We then moved to a quiet place and sat on a bench. We talked there until mosquitoes sucked 2 liters of our blood. We then moved a Cafe Coffee day and A lot DID happen over a coffee.

It was my second time in my life that I had gone to a CCD. Both times, I was getting paid. Or else which stupid on earth would pay such amount of money for a cup of coffee. Last time, I had gone with my best bros. Rahul and Shubham. They had ordered and I drank all of it without even knowing the name of the thing I was drinking.

Life has come full circle. Today, as the waitress handed me the menu, I didn’t know what to order. Every item on the menu was something similar which I might have heard in a sitcom or read in a book. But, I didn’t know what was what and what tasted how.

Think Einstein, think.

I thought of flipping the pages in serious look to make an impression that the items in the current page weren’t interesting but unfortunately, it was one long sheet. I checked twice if the pages had got stuck. Nope. It was just one piece of paper with words I had no idea of.

Just yesterday, I was searching “what is the drag coefficient of tassels in flying carpets?”. Just Yesterday, I was reading about the mandelbrot set  of complex numbers. And today, I didn’t know, as simple thing as the difference between a cappuccino and a latte. Or even, what they were. If you are thinking of kow towing me for mentioning two things you haven’t heard in your lifetime, step back. I am the knowledgeable stupid who doesn’t know what a cappuccino is. 

I looked at her casually and told her to order something. It was a desperate attempt to come out of this uncomfortable situation, but she told “you please order na”. I took my phone and texted every BRO I knew on this earth. I even pinged a girl, who is my bro ( No, Barnabus Stinson, I haven’t let her read the Bro code.)

Nobody replied. I ordered the second thing on the menu just by reading it out as if I consume it every day.

“Two regular cappuccino please”. Here is how I said cappuccino – KAPPUCHCHEENOO.

“What flavor Sir?”.

That was it. I didn’t know a shit about anything.

“What flavors are there?”.

She muttered some few names I had never heard and stopped at Chocolate.

“Chocolate Flavor, Please”.

I wanted her to just vanish and bring the fucking thing. But no, She still asked another question.

“You need any sandwiches. We have a combo offer”.

Meri maa, just bring two chocolate flavored hot cappuccinos for Jesus Christ’s sake.

She brought two cappuccinos and placed them on our table. The tray had, two cappuccinos, some sugar,  tissue papers and spoons. Another conundrum. Should I drink it from the cup or from the spoon? 

I came up with too many hypotheses on why a spoon was provided and whether I should drink it from the cup or not. I applied Occam’s Razor too. This time, it was bro Gautham to rescue me from any further embarrassments. While I was waiting for her to start so that I can follow her lead, he had texted me to go with the hypothesis that says “Spoon for mixing the sugar, Cup for drinking the Cappuccino”.

All this time, I hadn’t given my attention was to a single thing she was saying. I was just nodding to every sentence she ended. She didn’t know how many things I had in my mind during all this. She will know after reading this. We finished our cappuccinos and it ended well overall. I waved her goodbye and as I walked towards the bus stop, I said to myself “You have so many things to learn apart from physics and computers, because, Life is hard, but it’s harder if you’re stupid “.

To Stupidity and Beyond.

The Bunker Bed Conundrum.

If only I could foresee the shocks life brings in front me, I can bother less about all the strangeness that surrounds me. It is not like I haven’t said this in my other blog posts. It is just that it keeps repeating as if there was a recurring pattern of dreadful climaxes. Every month that has passed by has left me with one strange incident that makes me look at the month in a different way.

Like

August – “The month I pushed the toilet door on a guy since he hadn’t closed the door with the sign ENGAGED”

September – “The month I sat on a ladies seat and almost got fined 200Rs”

October- ” The month I saw a guy doing online Lingerie shopping”

November- “The month I started sleeping on Bunker beds”

Yes, People Yes. Just yesterday, I moved to a new PG where there are only bunker beds. Even though, the bed has a safety iron rail that stops me from falling down, I am just too over conscious sometimes. What if I roll over and my obituary reads “death by falling off a bed”. I entered the room hoping that I will get the bottom cot since I hate climbing a smaller mount Everest every 10 minutes. My hopes vanished as I clearly saw the bottom cots occupied by a college student who was busy preparing for internals.

I introduced myself to my new roommates. It was indeed a great conversation. I said, “I feel like quitting my job and doing higher studies”. They both gave a similar stare and replied, “We feel like quitting our college as soon as possible and start working”. What an interesting contrasts in interests. One guy, dared to ask me “How did you end up here?”.

Where do I begin? Should I start with how I chose CS when there were 10 other branches I didn’t notice? Or how I had a wrong thinking that I knew enough to make decisions on my own? Or to the day I wrote CET with no idea of what is the atomic number of nitrogen? Or to the day I chose to study PCMB?

I broke down all of it to a simple sentence as ” I did BE and here I am looking like a clown”. They nodded and asked, “So you are an engineer right?”.

“I am actually an SQA. See there are developers, testers, designers and…..” I stopped looking at their blank faces.

“Is it like starks, Lannisters from Game of thrones?”

I high fived the guy telling him that I am a big fan of the game of thrones too.

“Look, in that case, I am a seven-faced god” I chuckled.

“Bro, I am still in 3rd season”. I mollified him saying that it wasn’t a spoiler.

I was confused. After placing everything in the cupboard, I stood in front of the cot thinking, how am I gonna climb this thing, how am I gonna cover it with a bedsheet. Somehow I went up and arranged my things. It was time for dinner. I sat up straight thinking again – how am I gonna get down?

Later, I avoided going up to my bed and spent the most time sitting on a chair reading novel and chatting. When I felt my conversations had no point and I had lost concentration in reading the book, I turned back to see if they were still reading. They still were. The other guy asked another blunder of a question.

“Anna, can I play Telugu Songs on the loudspeaker, because if I use headphones, my head will start to throb”. Actually, My head had already had started.

“Yes, you can. No problem”. I lied to them so that I don’t look like a dick on the first day itself.

An hour passed and it was getting quiet as each second passed. I am getting used to this quietness these days. There is only one person who speaks with me – my inner voice. Dude, what are you doing with your life? I tried to shut him up, but it was a vain attempt. I got up, climbed the Everest and the drama happened.

When I was climbing up, the guy sleeping in the below bed woke up and looked at me in his sleepy eyes. Then, he was asleep the next moment. I kept my phone aside setting an alarm and covered myself. I rolled to the left side of the cot that is away from the safety iron rails. It was lightning outside and it was like someone was aiming flashing lights at me through the window. So I rolled over to the other side and the whole bed moved like the earth shook. The guy below woke up very much pissed and he might have rolled as well. And readers, as you may recall from physics,

s1-1-1

The equilibrium was disturbed and the system was in an utter chaos. I rolled towards the window because the side that I was sleeping now wasn’t my regular side and change is never good. The guy rolled again but this time with an irritating sound “Tchhh”. How can I not get disturbed by the fact that I am disturbing a guy? This continued for few more minutes and he woke up and asked, “Could you stop doing that, please?”. Let’s not overthink what he asked but the way he asked was “Stop having hypothetical sex”.

My alarms couldn’t wake me up the next day and the guy below poked me and said, “Dude, It’s 8, we are leaving for college”. I was relegated from being called BRO to DUDE. I had lost it. As I sit now facing at the clock to go near 7:30, I am thinking, What in the fresh hell is going to happen today.

The One about Accepting.

It was the summer of 2003 and holidays had just begun. I was in a hurry to finish homework so that I can go out and play. My mom always had this rule – You’ll be allowed to play only if you finish all your homework. I hated her for this. I never understood why she forced that on me. All my other friends used to invite me only to be sent back by my mom. Just the thought of me being inside the house with a scale and a pencil was disheartening. I used to look through the window to see what my friends were up to. Meanwhile, I learned how to get away with big math problems. If the question was to write numbers from 1 to 1000, I would definitely skip 100 numbers and still make it look as a completed one. The thing is, I was always locked and my friends knew that.

“Mom, I finished my homework, Can I go now at least?” was my desperate request.

“Yes, you can. Close your books and keep them inside your bag. Wash your face, drink milk, eat biscuits and then, you go and play. You should be back by 6”. This was again confusing. Minutes later, when I was putting my books inside the bag, I murmured, she seldom allows me to go outside and now I should do all these before.

As I stepped outside, I feared if they would let me join in the middle of the game. I went to the field and saw everyone playing cricket. Even girls. Girls were made to play as wicket keepers and were allowed to bat in the end. It didn’t matter how much runs they scored. They were made to play so that we could just laugh at how funny they hold a cricket bat.

“Can I join?” I asked.

“The first innings is already over. Wait till next match starts and then you can join” Raju said. He was the kind of guy who made decisions. He made rules that we blindly followed and if there were any fights, he would solve it. Nobody messed with him because if he stopped talking to a guy, no one in our group dared to differ.

I played. I bowled few overs. I was hit for sixes. I batted. I scored few runs and got out eventually. I kept looking at the road to see if the 6’o clock bus came. That was a reminder for me to return to home. When we finished playing, Raju came to me and said, “Hey, I’m getting a new bat from my dad tomorrow”. I was jealous and excited at the same time. Jealous because I never owned one and excited because he would let me play after he got out. I came back home and told my dad about it.

I woke up next day to a surprise. My dad was making a bat out of coconut palm leaf. He was giving final touches and I stood there, elated. He turned and smiled at me. I was still jumping inside in joy like I had made highest score in my friend’s video game.

“Dad, gimme that, I want to check if it’s handle is too big for me”

“Wait for it, I ain’t done with making the blade flat yet”.

I just couldn’t wait. It was as if god had finally replied to my prayers. As he handed it to me, I imagined ball pitching in front of me and I shimmied down and hit it for a six. Later, I came inside and showed it to everyone in the house. Look, Look, This is how Sehwag smashes. Look, Dad, This is how Sachin lifts his bat after scoring a century. Look, this is how Rahul defends. 

My friends came around 10 and I was ready to surprise them. I hid it behind and Tada, I showed them my brand new bat. Everyone cheered and we all ran to field to start the day’s play. Since it was a new bat and just a few hours old, I took care of it like a little baby and didn’t let anyone use it roughly. The match had started and I was fielding. All I waited for was – my turn to bat. Just right then, Raju’s father stopped his bike and called his son. Raju ran without caring there was play going on. He turned towards us from a distance and screamed, “My new MRF Bat!!”.

The play was stopped and we all surrounded Raju. His father had brought him a brand new bat from the town that had MRF sticker on it. It was a proper cricket bat. The kind of bat you see in TV. My bat was no match for his. We resumed our play and when it was our turn to bat, no one took my bat. It just lied there, dejected. To be honest, even I didn’t play with it. Now that every kid had held Raju’s bat, he announced that no one touches his bat without his permission. Therefore, next match, I played with my coconut palm leaf bat with a hatred feeling. When I put all my force and tried to slog a ball, I missed it by a mile and hit the ground hard with the bare bat. It hurt myself. A sliver had got in.

“I don’t need this bat. It is lame. I don’t like it. It is old fashioned and my friend won’t even touch it”. I told my dad as pushed the bat down the table.

“Why? What happened? you were okay this morning!. Why are you complaining now”, My dad asked.

“It’s edges are rough and the slivers scare me. It’s blade is round and thick. I can’t even hold it properly”

“Give it to me. I will cut some of the wood out of it so that it will not be heavy and I will smoothen it’s edges as much as I can”.

“Look, It is not just the bat dad. Raju always writes in costly pens and has fancy scales and erasers. His stickers on notebooks are of cricketers and he wraps them with brown wrapper. And, I always write in 1.50Rs pencil whose lead gets broken every time I sharpen it. If I try to rub with that 50ps eraser you got me, it only spoils everything written around it. My scale doesn’t even have markings on it. I open my geometry (instruments box) with my teeth and I am lucky I haven’t broken one yet. My writing pad is brown and rusty while he has Power Rangers one from the city. I want sketch pens and not crayons. I don’t want VKC slippers, I want the belt ones. Why should I have to be like this dad? Why can’t I be like him and-and he always-” I started crying.

“Look, I can get you new instruments box, pencils, erasers, sticker from the store by your school tomorrow. Now, come here”. He said tapping his lap with his hands.

“No, I don’t want anything from that old store by my school. Take me to the store in the city from where he buys things.”

“I see, it is not just about the bat, is it?”

“Yes. It is and also few other things. Look what the bat did to me”. I said showing him the open wound.

“Look son, you cannot ask for everything that you want. We cannot afford it. He can have anything he wants but not you. Tomorrow, he might get a bicycle or even join a bigger school in the town, but you have to realize that you can’t be everything he is. You cannot have everything you ask for. Just accept it what you now have and be happy with it. Have you seen Kempa, the poor kid who comes to collect milk daily in the morning? We gave him your used clothes and also your slate and chalk pieces. Do you think he can ever go to school? Does he complain? Have you seen him crying or whining?.”

“Wait, So you are not sending me to the city school? Should I continue in this broken school with leakage problems when it rains?”

“No. You will go to government school. You have talent. Master Srikanth was telling me that you are a intelligent student. You can shine anywhere. It doesn’t matter where you study. I know you will thrive”.

I was shocked. It was hard to digest. I always dreamed of joining that school in the town to where every rich kid went in yellow school buses. I hoped, one day I will make it to there. But, my father had made it very clear that it will not be the case. From then, I continued to play in my wooden bat and scored few runs too. I got used to it’s weight and uneven edges.

In spite of all this, I learned one important lesson in life. No matter how bitter the truth is, we just have to accept it. Last month, after I confessed to my crush about how I feel, she gently pushed aside it by saying “Hmm, k, Thank you”. While I listened to 21 Guns by Greenday after that, I accepted the fact that I’m not a boyfriend material. When I burned Maggi and ate cleaned the mess myself, I accepted that I am poor at cooking. Life is much easier if we just accept it as it happens. It hurts only when you expect.

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Although,

I just don’t accept one thing: Jon Snow’s death.

Have a good day Readers,

Chiru H R