Down a Quarter

First there is the “drama queen” me – one who thinks that life is a combination of Friends, The Lake House and Notting Hill.

And then there is this “practical prude” me – one that is a combination of Dark Knight, Blood Diamond and a Stonehearted B****.

I have always been this Practical Prude (PP), that emotions and commitments used to drive me crazy. But now that I am getting hit by this absurd quarter life crisis, this Drama Queen (DQ) is trying to take over. So this post is about the eternal debate that goes on between me and me, between PP and DQ.

DQ: Awww… True love exists… Even today, there ARE people who want to grow old with each other…

PP: Wake up woman! People want to grow old with each other simply because they will finally have a physiological excuse to not have sex with each other.

DQ: Hey… Don’t be so offensive… life is all about that guy you love, everything else is secondary…

PP: Okay! Now you sound like a cheesy Karan Johar movie rip-off!

DQ: Well, it may sound melodramatic, but yes life is fuelled by relationships and relationships in-turn by emotions…

PP: aah come on… Most people are so self-absorbed; you’ll end up revolving around them like a pointless earth revolving around the sun without receiving a watt of solar light. Love yourself first, and if you have some left, distribute it to an NGO or something!

DQ: What is the point of charity or good will when you don’t have a loving partner to share it with?

PP: Think about nothing – both money and energy - being left for charity or good will… everything spent on your “loving” partner…

DQ: You are just being unreasonable… Soul mates exist… all you need to do is find them… Miracles are waiting… You have to let them happen… If expected things happen, they are not called miracles now are they? Wait for your prince charming come riding by, wait for him to sweep you off your feet, wait for him to touch your life… just wait for him to be a part of your essence and he will define your life...

PP: You fucking sheer waste of human cells! Get over it! Fame, power, money – these are the three things that define you in life and thereafter!

DQ: Unbelievable… you are absolutely heartless…

PP: Probably you should get a quarter of whiskey for yourself and read Chicken Soup for the Soul…

and that’s how it ends every time…

A toast to Champak

Dear Champak,

How are you? We are doing well here – without your annoying jokes and adhoc schedules. You owe us a lot. A lot. There is a hole on my floor because of you, bounding in excitement. The alcohol targets for TASMAC, Chennai has gone haywire and there is a sales review meeting held at district level. Consumer spending has come down. Food is plenty. The poor can afford Sambhar-Wada now. Oh my, the traffic cops are breathing easy these days. Airtel is whining in a corner, mourning over the loss of your connection. People don't have broken jaws anymore! I have an assortment of utensils and bottles in my car and my flat. Your presence still lingers on the pondichery beach. The moonrakers fishes are not traumatized of being preyed upon!

The saying “You only realize the value of a thing when it is gone” is an understatement here. We had a lot of fun and it is only going to get better. We learnt not to take life seriously but live seriously. Yes – there is a difference. We learnt to value time on time and we learnt to act and not react. That’s a lot. I am used to not sleeping these days. Damn you biological clock!

You could try opening a psychology consulting setup. You are good. I am not kidding. You have a solution to almost any problem – though I really didn’t give a second thought then. Consider making money. There are many heart wrenched, rationally challenged crowd around us. You know, the typical quarter life crisis (btw I am turning 25 in another 5 months and you better be around this time – I really loved your birthday surprise last year!) What I am trying to say here is – beneath the saw dust of slapstick humor and uncomplicated principles, lays a human like anyone of us. However, I like your ‘Ignorance is bliss’ outlook. I am still learning that. You will excel in whatever you do. We wish you all the very best.

On an ending note, we miss you (a little). I know it will fade away with time and I know you will be forgotten. Yes – I am serious.

Hugs,

Chirkut

Statutory warning: I am in a very bad mood

Well, I am just not in the mood for emotional blogging/bragging or probably talking about my life’s step ups, step downs and all that jazz!

Oh yes. Also, not on the happy Christmas or New Year hang overs.

Read on. Enjoy.

I hate cryptic facebook statuses. I think it is just an attention seeking publicity stunt.

I like feeling depressed at times. It is better than feeling nothing. Which I also feel a lot of.

My greatest fear on the earth is balding and hair loss.

I think I am a genius. Not everyone agrees.

I cannot face the world with a pimple.

Economy is going nowhere. Bulls and bears are just fetish to talk about.

I am scared of ghosts more than real criminals.

I hate kids. I cannot tolerate their scent, noise or whining.

I don’t like people with opinions. They confuse the shit out of me.

I am so full of myself. I don’t care about the world at large.

I detest calling restaurants for home delivery simply because they ask me my name and the conversation will stretch for more than five minutes spelling out my full name.

I have realised that over thinking sucks.

I prefer women to men. Not in a sexual way though.

I am actually very happy. I just like cribbing.

If you think this post is just crap, So do I.

I don't know what I want!

From a road travelled when there was none, to when the first stretch of gravel was laid and the very first map was still being created, I have been a part of this journey – on the road of “figuring out what I want”! I remembered times I used to forget what I had to do while walking from my bedroom to my hall, thanks to my hyperactive brain. But lately I have consciously and subconsciously avoided thinking too much…or for that matter, at all. I’ve been moody, biting everyone’s heads off, snapping every second, and generally behaving like a cranky old woman.

Probably, it is the need for complacence and satisfaction. But I also figure that human needs are never-ending, moving on from one bough to another, clearly unsatisfied. I have idiotic whims and fancies. And in pursuit of them, lies the beatific path to the worst nightmare! You may plan an amazing Europe trip down to the very last detail, but you never know when an unpronounceable natural disaster decides to throw up somewhere in Iceland. You may plan to marry the love of your life, but you never know how many women he may have telephonically wedded. Like, seriously?!

But at this point of my life, I really, really have NO plan. What I sketched 3 years ago has been erased and suspended. What I can see ahead is blur and far-fetched. I don’t have an agenda or an itinerary. I have been ridiculously trying to stay the same, calm, positive and up-beat. I have been avoiding the fear of going through the history again and turning myself into a phobic of life, love and plans!! It is withering out and I can see it. And it is not a good feeling.

Bleah! I don’t know what I want. Again!

Him and Her...

A brief current of cool breeze brushed across her face. The sky was cloudy and the sea was grey. The resonance of waves is something she had always loved, felt soothed and enjoyed.

Him: Do you realize we have to wait for another 3 hours for them to come?!

Her: Yeah! I know! And you better don’t fall asleep!

Him: Hmm… I wont! Just make sure I don’t lie down on my stomach..

Her: duh! (pretends to get up and walk away)

Him: Okay! Okay! (holds her hand) Lets play a game or something

Her: like what?

Him: Uhmm.. Chidiya udd?! (bursts out laughing)

Her: Seriously! How old are you?

Him: Old enough to create an email ID without the word “breeze”

Her: Hey! (now actually getting up)

Him: Alright. You suggest a game!

Her: Rapid fire! You ask me questions and I ask you questions! We both answer the first thing that comes to our head!

Him: This is your game for intellectuals :-S

Her: Come on!! It will be fun :-D

Him: Okay! Shoot.

What followed was a round of unrelated question and answer session that led to mush and cuddle - which in turn led to a finely drafted plan of alcoholism by the beach.

Him: No seriously! What exactly is your problem with my city?

Her: Nothing! Arrogance and show – off! Also, there is no beach :-P

Him: What the!! What is the beach for? Except for this? (Splashes a handful of water on her)

The water was cold, almost startling her. She was still sitting by the beach. It had almost become dark and the water, silent. And the waves have come close enough that the water splashed on her face everytime it hit the rocks. It has been an hour since she dozed away. She did miss him. She got up and started walking back to her car.

Figments

It strikes. Out of the blue. Abruptly.

Sometimes it’s the imagination. Sometimes what you did. Sometimes what you chose. Sometimes it’s pure guilt. Most of the times, it’s what you didn’t do or choose.

It’s the loop of paradox.

It strikes again. It breaks. It surfaces when you least expect it.

It stops you from rebuilding. It stops you from rediscovering. It halts.

It comes back. The history. Moving the future.

Never erased.

Figments from the past.

Read somewhere that our lives are defined by our actions, episodes or experiences in the past. Human life is written by one single pen. There is a flash before every action or reaction. We have no control. We are looking in.

It’s not a Déjà vu. It’s the butterfly effect.

Past is an identity, uniqueness that can be memorized, looked back, trapped or dropped dead.

It’s called metamorphosis.

The third Sunday of June

We were on a highway. Roads were new and few then. It poured. He took out his jacket and gave it to me. I was late for the very first day in my college. There was a never-ending queue to take the bus. He hired a taxi for me. There was a time when reading a newspaper was the most irksome part of my life – especially after it became a necessity. He cut out articles, filed them and placed them on my table. The night when I returned home late, I didn’t look him in the eye. I walked straight to my room not to let know of my inebriated state. He came over with a glass of water.

There is a phone call everyday – invariably – whether or not I receive the call. There is message every morning whether or not I remember to reply. There is a mail of advice in my mail box every week whether or not I open it.

I heard this verse from a song and it is nothing if not apt for him -

He is patient.
He is kind.
He does not envy and he does not boast.
He is not proud.
He is not rude and he is not self-seeking.
He is not easily angered.
He keeps no record of wrongs.
He always protects. He always trusts. He never fails.
When he looks at you, he doesn’t see your mistakes – he doesn’t see your past.
He only sees this great hope, everything you can be and everything he made you to be.
Not because you are perfect, not because you are always right – but only because he loves you.

From my first foot step to my first sip of whiskey, you have been the perfect comrade. Happy father’s day, Dad! This one is for you.