Two sides of a coin

What we see around us, is Not always the be all and end all of it. There is always another side to it, another opinion, other side of the coin; but we being the selfish selves that we are, we See what we choose to see, we hear what we expect to hear. Nothing can ever be black and white, there are various shades to every story.
Stories never really end you see, they end where and when you want them to and continue if and when you please.
The human mind is a mysterious, wondrous thing. It is endless and ruthless, It deceives and deciphers other beings, to ensure ones’ existence on this planet. It clings to thing invisible, It alters memories according to your own selfish desires, interprets things and puts forth their ugliness instead of emphasizing on it’s beauty.It is the Mind which establishes things as black and white, and ignores the seven shades of the rainbow. It leaves you adrift, and confused. the complexities of the universe appeal to the mind, it excites the mind, energizes him.
It gives the mind a boost, thus we are often compelled towards people who are self destructive or emotionally scarred. It is the mind who compels us to do that. Being someone who is so hoplessly stuck in the ugly cycle of self-harm and attracted to damaged relationships, people think I’m appealing.
I make them feel like a super hero, they think they can save me, break through my fortified self, bring out the ‘little girl’ in me. What they underestimate is my crazy as fuck mind.
My mind which to SO horribly unpredictable; SO dazzling and devastating all at the same time.

I say superfluous things, in such a mellifluous manner that people can’t help but believe.
It’s an art, a skill. Who needs swag when you’ve got skill 😉
I don’t believe in Humanity, it’s scary how someone so young  can hate humans so much, I just don’t like them.They are such superficial creatures. They crib, cry, solicitate and get away with everything.
They Annihilate everything in their way without batting an eyelid. What’s lacking in humans nowadays is Humanity.

I ‘m fun. I’m a pain. I’m fine. I’m broken. I’m the two sides of a coin, and it’s circular edge.
I should go and study.

For what it’s worth.

I was watching a soap today, and a character in it said this little something which hit me hard, in the face. She said “I really… I really miss him. I want to tell him that I still love him. But I open my mouth and nothing comes out. And everything is terrible.”.

THIS thing that she said, unfortunately for me I understood exactly what she means. Day in and day out, whether wide awake or half sleep, whether driving or walking himself is always at the back of my mind. It has been a year, since we broke up (or he broke up with me) and I did move on (almost) But I did not. I have not budged from the spot where he left me. We are friends. Buddies. Mates. Whatever you want to call it. We’ve had a few “moments” when drunk, and a few “moments” when sober but that’s about it. I care about him, I really care about him and so I’m obnoxious when around him, instead of being cool, calm and composed or whatever that he is looking for. We talk regularly, have the same set of friends but he doesn’t care. And I can’t mash it down, what I feel for him and neither does he care.

He keeps telling me that I talk too much, or I’m imposing or I overact so on and so forth, which makes me feel like sheer unadulterated crap but i talk to him despite all this. I wonder why does he tell me all this, Why should he even notice my behaviour? and then I realize maybe I’m so annoying that he can’t help but notice how horribly stupid I am and How I end up making a fool of myself, everytime. everywhere. So I try to talk less, be less imposing and try to bring the change.

I know I sound really daft, ( I probably am too) but he is this super rational, really great guy so when he says something like that, I suppose it’s right because he isn’t the kind to talk unnecessarily ( I do that though and how! )

Anyway, I miss him. I miss him so much. I miss the way he smelt, my fingers in his hair, his hands, the way he’d play the guitar, that look on his face while listening to/ playing/ making music, that half smirk of his, the conversations, I miss him so much and there are times when I want to run to him and tell him all about everything and instead I don’t move and wave at him from a distance. There are times, while standing next to him, I smell him by chance and all these things come rushing back and there is so much that I want to say to him and I open my mouth with the scripted conversation in my head, but end up talking about something as trivial as the plan for the evening. Sometimes when he walks past me, I can’t breathe. I don’t mean metaphorically, I physically can’t breathe.

I miss what we had, because despite having been with a lot of guys I never had something like that. I could never talk about everything. All In all I miss him. I never thought it was possible to miss someone who is right there, so much. But it is. No guy can ever match up to him, because he put me up at a pedestal (and kicked my ass). I’m a stress eater, I eat A LOT When I’m stressed but when he starts hitting on these girls and goes out for drinks, I can’t. Eat. I feel like puking. I can’t sleep sometimes, I spend hours thinking about him. I know I’m being foolish and It’s time that I move on, I know all of that, But it just isn’t Happening. He happened when I was busy making plans, and now the plans have long dissolved, and he is long gone but I’m still here.

If he were a bad guy, who was abusive or nasty or a cheat, I’d convince my self that he isn’t worth the time and the energy, but the fault lies in me. I screwed up and always screw up. It’s this inborn talent, I have. I fucked up and ruined things but I tried. I tried so hard to put it back and get him back and tried to explain things, I tried to fight. I still am fighting for him, for us, for what we were but I don’t have any hope because in my heart of heart I know that it’s done. He’s done.

They say, “never give up, fight for what you want”

I’m fighting, I’m fighting so hard. I’m fighting myself too, and the universe refuses to notice the difference. It’s more of a need now. He makes me feel better even now, in this strange place he is home. He makes sense, when I can’t talk to my mother or my best friend and still takes my crap occasionally and reminds me constantly of my dream and tells me that I can do it, when I cease to believe in myself. He’s amazing, occasionally. Maybe because he has no choice. Maybe he thinks he’s obliged to do so. Maybe he is basically a decent soul.

He is my buddy. friend. Mate.

But he is so much more.

I open my mouth, trying to tell him, trying to explain, trying to not look like i’m trying too hard, trying to understand why, trying to do so much.. but I do nothing, I say nothing, I explain nothing, I understand nothing I just stand and smile at him and the universe, and try to remember how he smelt and do nothing…. and everything is So terrible.

But I’ll fight and try some more. Maybe some day. For what it’s worth.

Math and more.

Days as long as this, are now a common occurrence. Such days are hard to avoid and hard to manage. They just don’t seem to end, maybe it is so because I was up for a major part of it, but Hey, Math isn’t exactly my best buddy, though we go way back, we never really got along.

Things started to get messed up when fractions came in, and after years when I FINALLY got used to those halves and one fourths, they brought in the alphabet, The x’s and the y’s, with their squares and cubes. I never really got the logic, where would I use them and most importantly Why would I use them?

Today during the Math exam, 40 minutes into the paper I had nothing to do. My paper was over and I most of the sheets in my supplement were bare. There was nothing to do, While the Alphas and the Betas smirked at me, I looked around at the people who were busy scribbling things, with their eyebrows scrunched up and the concentration dripping from their ears, all I could do was frown at the Alphas and the Betas. I was wondering, “what on the fecking hell were they writing? How do they know what does this mean? ; What about everything I had studied, Where is all of that? ”

I don’t get the concept of calculus, Of Calculus and Of Studying Calculus. why would anyone be interested how to find the area occupied by a godforsaken, I don’t care; It’s not saving the planet, the trees, the animals; it’s not making anyone happy or reducing air pollution; So why?

I’m so sick of Mathematics. I love finite math, I figured it out. I’ve the same relationship with math that I have with himself. I really want to figure it out, and I really try to figure it out, but No avail.

Himself is as annoying and as screwed up as calculus, Both are demanding and then demand to be left alone. Having himself sitting in the examination hall,, with my math paper in front of me was enough to give me a brain haemmorhage.

bleh. It just isn’t fair, the amount of effort and patience I put into the two of them but it still amounts to nothing. I still can’t figure out infinite math and Himself isn’t coming for for another infinite years.

Maybe I should give up on both, It’s high time I give up on himself, knowing in my heart of heart he isn’t coming back, Him being his adamant self and not needing me, but Math I can’t afford to give up on Finals before I get into the college of my choice, but the rate at which I’m going I don’t think I’ll go to a college where Math is a requirement.

 

The First

While studying history today, I began dreaming of how I met himself for the first time. I remember I came back to this city ( Pune)  After spending 2 years in another town (mhow)

I was really nervous, going back to my old school and spending the last two years of high school here and everything. For a long time, after I’d left Pune I wanted to come back I missed my old friends, the rain and the streets and everything but after a while I fell in love with Mhow, the small town, the Rain, the people, the teachers and found my best buddies, so life was smooth. But like they say, “be careful what you wish for” and I was back in pune

Being back was weird, everyone had changed, Some people had left, new ones had replaced them, everything was new and I had been missing from action for two whole years. So all in all, it was worse than being new. Well, I entered my school gates with my recently washed hair, and well waxed arms and eyebrows, all new and shiny while I was crapping in my pants.

I saw my friends standing at the end of the road, there were squeals and screams, Hellos and long times’. I was alien to it, it was almost as though I was still standing at the gate watching my body walk on the road towards the crowd, meeting people, greeting them, faking smiles, trying to be interested. I wasn’t excited, I was scared. I hate meeting old people again, people I didn’t keep in touch with, people I was close to once upon a time, people I lied to, people I trusted and then stopped talking to. Too many things and too many people.

I’d rather meet new people, in a new town where no one knew me and Where & what I came from.

Anyway while I tried to embrace the attention, we were summoned for the morning assembly. I stood with my old girl friends, trying to grasp all the information they were throwing at me, looking for old people and looking at the new people, wondering If i have any classes with them. While all my girlies were swooning over this one guy, who was talking too much for my taste, I saw this tall, dark guy standing a few rows away, standing at the end of the row; being so tall and everything he was hard to miss. He stood there staring at the stage, stood their awkwardly, scratching his chin and talking to this guy in front of him.

He looked so awkward there I almost laughed out loud, he made me feel better I wasn’t as out-of-place as him, I was hoping that  I have a class with him and looked away at the stage, where the headmistress was giving her welcome speech wondering what his name was.

……………………………

After the first three lessons, during lunch we hung out near the cafeteria. I was quiet, which was unusual because usually I have a lot to say.  I saw him at a distance, wondering If I know the people he was talking to, I heard my girlies say that he isn’t a nice guy and he led this girl on. I didn’t believe them, not that girl atleast. I mean he didn’t seem the type to lead a girl on. He looked awkward and not smooth like the guy these girls were throwing themselves at.

After another two lessons, I had my Math class as I entered the math class, I saw that awkward guy there, sitting with someone I didn’t know. He sat at the other end of the class room. I knew at that very moment that I’m going to flunk in math for the next two years! Our teacher skipped the introductions and jumped right away to functions. halfway through the lesson she realised that he didn’t know the classes we were from, so we were asked to make a list with a name and Class, I calculated the seat no. where he sat, and  looked for his name on the list expecting his handwriting to be calligraphic, on the sixth place I saw this barely legible name, in his crooked font  it read- “himself” and I smiled, an honest to god smile,First time that day.

I should have guessed at that very moment, that I was done for. 🙂

Dear Bestfriend

Dear best friend,

I hope all is good. I’m fine here too, I guess. I sleep late and wake up even later (i’m not sure if it’s grammatically correct, but hey you are no grammar nazi. ) I talk too much and sleep even more. I think about you everyday and on bad days every second of the day. Things are okay, I guess. I guess a lot these days, I’m not certain of anything. The things I’ve been certain of all my life, I’m no longer sure of them. I’m no longer opinionated, or stubborn. I’m easy. I forgive, I forget, I see what I want to, I hear what I want to. I don’t know anything, best friend. I’m not even sure of you or us or anyone. Now , when I’m angry I sit and stare at the wall and do the same when I’m happy. I don’t have to tell everyone, everything anymore. I just tell almost everyone, almost everything. I especially omit the bits which people are supposed to know. 

I no longer, run back home to call you and tell you what happened, because I can’t. Instead I come back, stare at the phone, don’t even try to talk to the pre-recorded freak on the otherend of the phone telling me that you’ll be available in an instant. What is an instant anyway? It’s how you define it. In the course of life these 50 whatever days will seem like an instant, but right now they are longer that the year and half I spent with you. SO when upset, angry or confused, I stare at the phone, re-run the situation and the conversation in my head and imagine what would you say and try to tell myself the same.

It’s not getting any easier, with time. I just look for more flaws in what we have and ignore all the good bits. I hate the fact that you are so far away. I hate not being able to tell you things and not having to hear what you have to say about it. I hate not being able to sleep when I want to, I hate not knowing how you are and who you are with. I hate feeling so alone, in a room full of people. I miss your reactions and your laugh and I hate guessing. Guessing if you are fine and if I am fine, and if I’ll get what i want and if what you got is what you want and all the million other questions tha I can’t figure out. It’s hazy the future and so is the past because I wonder if it were true. I just feel stupid now. And alone, really alone. 

Dear best friend, everything is bleak and I miss you so much. A win isn’t a win till I can tell you about it, a day isn’t a day till you know all about it, my jokes are almost grey now. They are so bad that people think that I’m talking and not cracking a joke, I’ve to tell them that it was a joke and they look at me with wonder, thinking is she retarded? I can’t tell people how I really feel about something, I can’t tell my friends my secrets because I feel you need to know about them before they do and so I shut down and go back to staring at the wall. I talk endlessly and thoughtlessly so people don’t know how much I miss you. I miss you so much, It hurts. physically sometimes. I want to tell you about the book I read, the police chap I fought with, the new watch, my lost earring, the bruise on my arm, example 41 in integration, how this cloud looked like you, how I’m going to marry a chicken samosa seller, how i’m broke, about my new shoes, and the old ones, momo and his ticks (he’s friends wth them I guess), this window in my room which is like a rabbit, this song I heard recently, my favorite new shirt, about when I ate my newly grown nails amd I can go on forever.

I can’t be rational, like I promised and i can’t take care of myself, because I hate it. I hate taking care of myself, eating on time, wearing a jacket when cold, taking my medicines and being sane. I hate it. I hate being responsible and careful and I miss you. 

I miss you a lot, I never thought it was humanly possible to miss someone like this, best friend. I don’t care who you hung out with because I doubt they know you like I do. I guess they don’t. I love you, dear best friend. you are still here, I guess ; whispering jokes in my ears, making my hair before parties, crticising me when I’m stupid and never saying ‘ i told you so ‘ Instead you are here, laughing at my newest mistake and telling me how awesome I’m because I make your life so entertaining. You are my brightest star in the sky, my sirius. 

The sirius to my James, The harry to my hermione, galazy tab to my alarm clock and the yin to my yang.

Have I told you how much I miss you? I guess, I can never say this enough. 

Yours, I guess.

Always.

 

Just ordinary

I’m ordinary. I’m Very very ordinary. I’m not unique, or different. You’ll find the likes of me all over the world. I’m freakishly ordinary. I’m horribly predictable, fairly typical, occasionally boring. I wake up late on average days, Rush to work, or class, stay be late at night over thinking, over analysing, wondering how can I leave my mark on this planet, How can I be remembered, How can I ever be the person I so desperately want to be, I imagine oh-so-almost perfect scenarios in my head, I keep editing them, over and over again till they are almost perfect. Till they are fairly typical, Freakishly ordinary. I plan what to do the next day, but I wake up too late, my work is sill sloppy, random people still on my mind so on and so forth.

I’ve never done anything unusual, my peers have. I don’t play any instrument, don’t speak on stage, don’t know any languages, read and reread books in frequently, listen to a lot of not-so-popular music, dream more than it’s healthy and do nothing to make those dreams come true.

 

and now I’m not going to write what I wanted to because I’m busy dreaming up the perfect dream.