The guitar that would lead to the Contessa drive

She suffers alone.

2010-11-11T19:23:00.000-08:00

Simplify it.

It’s hard to believe it’s so much out of possible. It’s like a thing I’ll never be able to digest. Every waking day, the only thing I can think of is this situation. It’s funny in a sad way. I don’t know where I am heading. From swings of optimism and mindless daring to the lows of reality. I am thinking of manipulations, mind games, word games everything and anything that might work. Is life really as complicated as it seems? I don’t want to accept the reality that she’s showing me. I can’t imagine it. She has managed to find an abstraction from such thoughts. She suffers alone.

I am straining things, striving hopelessly. She is pained to see my state but she can only pretend like nothing bad will happen. She will readily leave this conversation and try and talk happy nice things to me. And my attempt to do the same appears a pretence. Talking happy things to her doesn’t feel normal. I can’t help but think about the uncertainty of this happiness. She loves me. She realizes that I am struggling to cope with things but she herself doesn’t know how to talk to me. She suffers alone.

I show my pain on my face. I torment her as if trying to win an emotional battle. I am not even thinking anymore. I’ve been feeling that big blank in my head that goes on and on. I don’t know what to make of it. How do I give her back the me that she enjoyed being with? I feel incapable. She worries. All her worries are for me. She thinks she’ll be able to handle it. I know I’ll be able to handle it. I know I don’t want to. I know she wouldn’t be able to handle it. I talk to her, I have a hundred things on my head. She sees my turmoil on my face. She pretends to not know it. She suffers alone.

I am not being able to show my true self. I am faking my emotions. I am distancing myself from the person I love the most. I am scared I’ll hurt her with my words. I am being rude to her with my bluntness.I tend to taunt her with my love. She suffers alone.

Someday I am going to erupt. Someday I am going to make her cry. I am going to understand her. Someday I am going to take her sufferings. I won’t let her suffer alone.

The Face revisits

2009-07-25T22:05:00.000-07:00

After a not very wishful indulgence, I tried to put myself to sleep. Sleep isn't the easiest thing these days. I now realize that I actually had a blank phase during which I didn't have any face in mind at sleep time. Yesterday night however I did have a face I was thinking about. Even during that indulgent period that face kept ringing my mind. Somewhere the indulgence appeared like an attempt to tell myself that this new face did not affect me. Even before the last minutes before sleep I was shunning my mind from thinking about this new face. Telling myself that she was committed and that she wasn't someone I was looking for.

Ten minutes after I woke up, I got a flash of the dream that I saw. Even when I had just woken up, I had this eerie feeling that I saw the face I had been thinking about before sleeping. As if something special happened. Now, I knew it was LeCzar. It felt like it was our first meet since her marriage and it appeared like she had invited me to meet. I was exploding with enthusiasm as I walked home . I had this feeling that I was supposed to meet her at some dreamy secret place at the roof of my home. I was taking a stupid adventurous route in an attempt to escape being seen by maa from her room as I climbed the roof. Once I got to the place that I had in mind, I saw LeCzar call me to a spot that appeared to be between the kitchen door and maa's room. I avoided looking into maa's room as I didn't want to confront any possibility of me not meeting LeCzar. I took Le out of the gate trying to avoid any other possible interference. As we were walking out, she took out a gift that looked like a chocolate bar wrapped in a flowery purplish wrapping paper and had something written on it. I didn't read it because I wanted to savor the experience in anticipation that it would be something very deep and straight from her heart. Reminded me of the days I used to keep her letter in my pocket and wait for hours after I received it to read it as if prolonging the reading experience and the happiness I'd derive from it. I started debating whether it was a chocolate and hoping that there was more writing within the packing. She nudged me to move and led me to what is now a godown. It was in its previous shambled state, roofless and with huge craters on the floor that had wild plants grown. The door to the godown was half open as she led me. I was conscious of the fact that we were entering a private space. My mind even racing at the thought of she kissing me. I told myself that I wouldn't resist though I had never known that experience during the years we were together. My mind got back to thinking about the gift which was now in my pocket. I started showing her the plants that were growing on the cracked floors telling her that I had sown them. It appeared like a shoot that would develop from a gram seed or a pea. She was standing behind me and listening me talk about the plants and she interrupted me with another gift. This one looked like a red old box which I took in my hand.
I was in a very high emotional state conscious of the fact that we were meeting for the first time almost three years since the time that I last saw her at her home. She had given me a flower bud then and had asked me to put it in sweet water and tell her of what happened. When finally she spoke, she very composedly told me that all she wanted to say was that things hadn't changed for her and that she always wished well for me. Our relationship had ended with a lot of unanswered questions and somewhere I was hoping it would be clarification day. That she'd talk about that time. I was wishing she had more to say and I turned my back to her as I was listening her speak as I wanted to secretly check what was there in the second gift. I was a pair of sun-glasses that had something written on the tainted glass. There was also a watch in the same box. Reminded me of the first gift she sent me and also forced me to think on why I didn't even think of getting her a gift. The next moment she had disappeared. I looked for her at home and debated whether I should give her a call.

I see a dream whose idea I fancy and I feel very happy about it. I got this sudden idea that if I saw such dreams everyday, I'd happily live every waking day thinking and relishing about the dream.

Shes no Agony Aunt

2009-01-09T10:02:00.000-08:00

I was checking this site that gave site rankings. I tried my blog to see what results it would give. Hadnt seen my blog page for ages now and I was suddenly attracted to reading what I had written some two years back. A friend, the only person who read my blogs then wrote something inspired from one of my writings. And for reasons I wanted to read what she had writtent then. Its strange how differently you can feel about the same literature over time. Every time you realise you've found another perspective to it. I remembered the link to her page so it was easy reaching there but unlike mine she had a huge archive and after some unintelligent searching I found what I was looking for. I use a dial-up-connection that engages my telephone. So I saved the page to read it later.After having read what I had written before her, when I finally sat to read the page,I realised it had 6 comments. Curious on what I and others had commented,I reconnected to get back to her page and then on the comments. It read that she intended to help me in some way. I had thanked her for lending words to my expression.
Reading it again today, I want to thank her for trying to tell me that 'it was love and it was worth it'. I like the idea of having someone like you as a friend, a counsellor. But dont extend that service to the masses - ' Agony Aunt '. lol .

eternal sunshine

2007-05-10T08:29:00.000-07:00

for a brief moment i debated with myself whether if given a choice I'd want to erase Le out of my mind. It was brief..very brief..

i dont know what i want to write next..there a lot of things that i wanted written..i give them up easily..i wanted to write this...so i tried to run away from the idea of forgetting about writing it..i am too absorbed...still into the movie..i am still thinking of the erasure going on...

i liked the snow...and climbing the night at the Charles... I have stopped relating but..unconsciously i have stopped..i didnt see myself as Joel or Le as Clementine...i would have otherwise...i am getting over with her..and suddenly i see the erasure working for me without some doc mapping my memories to get her off my head..i am trying to keep her living..thas why i write these things..but i didnt write for a long time..i feel like a different person...i wont be..i am just typing randomly..and i am already thinking about ppl who will read this..that i will show it to Abdul..and he'd understand the context atleast if not the rest..i am planning again...i am deviating from what i wanted to to write..the action of my writing isnt involuntary..i can think and i know what i am writing....i am full of dots. dots sounds like a fancy word to me..thas why i say i am full of dots..but dots also might suggest that my life is full of trailing dots..

i want to get back to the last thing i saw...it was all snow..and sea..and they were just by themselves....and i realized that i have lost my chance...i want to be in love....madly in love to live like that.....to think of nothing else...but i think ive lost the one chance i had....that i wouldnt want to be like that anymore when i forgot about this movie...when i get out of this cloud...i am happy i am writing..i'd want to find the notepad whenever i am thinking..i know i'll like it...i might even be proud of whatever i wrote..but most importantly it gives me the satisfaction of writing something that not many write..or a lot many write..but they write it to themselves...the way i am writing it to myself..

i never wrote to myself..i wrote to her...but theres no anguish..no anguish...i want to remember that quote...that quote about forget..why does everything have to fit in so well...why does it appear like the whole world is making movies in my context..writing books in my context..singing my life. conclude..i am too selfcentered. and i dont know if i am going to try and be something else..but i am striving for something that i dont know...i want to end with ' eternal sunshine of a spotless mind' whatever it means..

Qian li zou dan qi

2007-01-15T10:06:00.000-08:00

Will I see her again - will we stand here and wait for our hearts to communicate to each other?
"Riding Alone for a thousand miles"- I come to regret being insincere with the guitar....for not creating that bridge of chance between us. The bridge is now lost forever and with it the chance to tell her how dearly I cherished the bud she had given me that evening at her balcony....how I waited for it to flower.....as if it were to indicate something. If only I didn't wait for such indications and gave her my heart. I was too scared to take chances...scared that I'd even lose the right to stand at her balcony. The more I think of that moment the more I drown in regret. I won't go regretting forever but.
I had told her that years later, I would still wait for her, still wish she was happy - still know that she'd be happiest with me. But I don't. I can't. Its meaningless - just like everything in my life will be. But I don't want to see what lies ahead. I don't want to help the pining. I promised myself to live for her...only her... and I know that I won't be able to keep this promise forever. Someday soon I'll stop longing for her. Until then... I want to keep the promise I made to myself.
Until then...I want to sound poetic...sound like a dreamer. Only until I find someone on the other side of the bridge across forever.

2007-01-13T23:22:00.000-08:00

An excercise to do I have. I have to think about myself. I is all that I have ever thought of but I still don't know this I. I have an HR interview in an hours time and I cannot find a few lines to describe myself cause it has to involve my positive sides..my strengths...my hobbies...my philosophy of life.
Its been 15 minutes and I am still thinking.
I have earned a lot of best friends and I have had my room in the hostel as 'the hub' for the last 5 years of my hostel life. Won't blame myself for the first three years cause then I had roommates. I enjoy cooking for my friends and cleaning my room and arranging it so that it can accomodate more and more people. I haven't had the oppurtunity to sleep in my room for the last 4 days and I've found the word. Its called 'hospitable'.

I have never parted ways with any of my friends inspite of all the differences and hassles that I might have had with them. I have been able to project myself as a funny character ( I hope I don't appear irritating ) to friends who haven't had the oppurtunities to listen to my stories. I am simple to converse with and I try my best to radiate warmth.

I have managed to fairly ( stress on that ) pass my exams since my 8th standard 2nd terminal exam when I last used unfair means to help my state. My scores are purely mine.

the dust of time

2007-01-05T14:54:00.000-08:00

I miss the feeling of missing her..or longing to meet her..or wanting to dream of her. I say to myself I am completely out of it...and it does seem like that but I don't want it to happen. Most of my holiday I continued to feel the void..but not enough..not enough to give me the feel I was looking for..was on a different mission during my stay in Goa but I did give it a try..the easy way but liqour didn't work for me that day. Was sitting alone at a bus-stop in front of the Mumbai railway station waiting for my friends...the cool January wind gave me a feel of the Delhi winters..and together drifted the good old days...
Today above all i wanted to read our conversations..the logs that I had been keeping for ages. Some effort and i managed to get them at my screen...and as i read i realized how distant and different I was from her when I was being her lover. I never really got real close to her until she declared that it was over. But the time after that was the time when I really got to know her...and I really started feeling like her. I wish I could keep a log of those endless conversations I had at her balcony when we weren't lovers..when we weren't friends..but when we still knew we needed to talk to each other. Though she never admitted to it, but it was then that we started feeling that we needed each other..and it was then that I felt more secure. I am still being lazy to untie that yellow bundle. I dusted it and then displaced it today when I cleaned the room. I wish it helps to keep her fresh in my memories forever.

2006-11-14T15:14:00.000-08:00

I love oranges.
I love guavas.
I love grapes.
And I love cheese.
And above all I love you.

Wonder when

2006-11-14T14:55:00.000-08:00

I don't understand this at all. I don't even try not to think about her when I am awake and its so easy. I don't remember her face. I don't think of her voice. I don't think of her at all. And I don't have to suppress my thoughts for that.
I was home yet again. My sister and my cousin were there. Mom comes from somewhere and scolds my sister for being lazy. She wasn't exactly being lazy but she has me sulking with her behavior towards ma. Mom wasn't right to scold her but she wasn't so very wrong either. And even after Mom left, my sister didn't regret this.
Suddenly I am all alone. Theres no one at home except some cousin who is sleeping in my room. I feel teary for something and then I have actual tears and I realize why I have tears. I look for things at my home that would remind me of her. There are none. I start shouting towards heaven why its like this. Why ,when I don't have a trace of her remaining in my everyday life, do I still have to cry thinking of her? I didn't blame anyone else. But for a minute I felt like going to her mother and crying in her presence.
I don't know why I dreamt that. In between my studies sometimes I write her name without intending to do so..without thinking at all. My hand seems to respond well to my unconscious mind. It doesn't disturb me at all. It only intrigues me. The fact that I am so aloof from myself. The fact that I don't understand what I really won't. Wonder when I'll know.

They drift.....the thoughts

2006-11-14T14:48:00.000-08:00

Its like winters and I like the sun. A worker had created a little fire and I was tempted to feel the heat of the fire and I went and stood beside its blaze.
I thought of a dead man's pyre..I thought of my grandfather's pyre. The place where i was standing then had pillar where one could find support. One ought to have the luxury of such a support when in times as such. Pashupatinath has such a facility. An old man went past me on his cylce and I had difficulty remembering whether he was at my second year hostel or did he work here.
I didnt receive any letter from LE at the 2nd year hostel. Did I receive any letter from her at the 1st year hostel? I fail to remember. If I did..first year hostel has to be a special place I thought. I enter my room thinking over this and looking for her. Shes packed in a yellow bag in a cobwebbly corner of my room and I haven't disturbed her since god knows when..
She once said something about my saying 'god knows'...and from then onwards I started to use it every now and then making it prominent enough for her to notice.
God knows what I was doing.
God knows what I am doing

I despise myself

2006-11-11T14:30:00.000-08:00

Its this dream that I want to record because it was both good and ugly. Though I don't remember much of it.The dimmest memory of my this dream takes me to me the room I used to share with bapuji (my grandpa). Like I used to do, I was doing his bed so that he could sleep..setting the mosquito net. But it was with much greater affection than I used to.It was some two years ago that I last saw bapuji. He was as healthy as he used to be before his last year when he was mostly bed-ridden. I then unlike other days that I used to have with him then, offered to massage his feet and his shins. He allowed me to. It suddenly felt like I was giving my grandfather and myself the greatest gift of life. After he had almost slept, I then started to silently cry for myself..for what Ma had done to me..what she hadn't.
That was the disturbing part because my dreams acknowledged my contempt for what Ma hadn't done for me. And I really despise myself for blaming mother for doing something, that almost every mother in the same situation, would have done.

A nice Saturday it was

2006-11-04T14:03:00.000-08:00

Shes in Allahabad and she gave me a mail just two days before she was to return. An SMS, a night's wait, another SMS and I finally get to talk to my English teacher. The meet is fixed and I have the address all scribbled on a piece of paper and I am super excited. My date today is a real wonderful person with the most beautiful smile, so full of warmth that it became the reason why I thought I needed a counselor in the first place. I actually never needed one.
In 40 minutes time, I rode to her home following the long list of landmarks she'd given me for every wrong turn i might take. I had my super-cool moped, which I had just some time before setting out, recovered from the garage postponing the much needed servicing. Ma'am wouldn't have allowed me to come had I no vehicle. So the Hero Puch does act like the Hero who saves this meet for me and thus deserves a mention.
Like always I started to feel the insecurity of not being someone really important. She didn't do anything to let that impression. Its just that she looked some busy when I reached her home. She was actually busy arranging the privacy I'd need to comfortably talk to her.
The khukuri I had gifted her had found a place in her living room decoration. She wanted to hear what I didn't want to write to her. The moment I had been waiting for...to give it her in style..surprise her. She surprised me instead. LE getting married didn't surprise her a bit..and some minutes later she told me that it'd do good to me. That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I wanted her to think I am pained and that then I'd tell her how numb I feel. She sure thought that I was pained and I did find the opportunity to tell her that...the since then stories..and flowers and that I don't drink tea. She got coffee for us both because we both don't drink tea. I had one super weird reason which I confessed to her on her insisting and she did complement me in this regard when she gave me an equally weird reason for her not doing so.
When I had set out from hostel sacrificing the special Saturday meal that we get at our mess, I thought I would take lunch at her place.And she kept insisting on my having lunch but I wasn't hungry anymore and I didn't want her to spend time preparing lunch for me. The talks shifted to 'her GHOST' stories and I made a discovery about her that astonished me. She isn't ambitious or someone looking to find economic independence for her. Shes almost got a doctorate in English..shes published a few international journals and shes got a decent salary. But shes waiting for her ghost..waiting for her angel to propose marriage to her. She wants to live depending on her husband..decorating her home..watching television soaps and movies. It was very unlike her and it suddenly reminded me of Jenny Cavelleri. It sounded so Jenny like. Shes a modernist who is now advocating...not actually advocating..wishing for herself, the 'women should stay at home' system. She was sounding so much like a little girl mad in love that I was slightly worried. God Forbid. I wish her wait pays.
I found the chance to confess to her how bad I'm at ending a meet and that she should tell me when I should leave. After another half an hour of pleasant talks I took leave.

2006-10-29T13:12:00.000-08:00

Girl you are my love
You're my heart and soul
You're my brightest side
Suddenly wish i knew her skin...the taste of her breath is still fresh in my senses...I want to feel defeated. Feel the loss of my greatest happiness no more belonging to me.
That dream...I was drunk and shouting at the moon..crying out loud..feeling so sick that I vomited. But it wasn't relieving to cry with no real tears. I'm looking for that pang..that'll make me feel defeated..that'll defeat me. I know as long as I don't lose here I am never going to emerge a winner in this Life.

Since then....

2006-09-29T15:41:00.000-07:00

26th the September, 2006

It’s the day I got my train homewards…and I get this feeling that maybe I should wait. I shouldn’t be waiting at all actually..but it suddenly feels like it won’t be right to go to her home right now. I was like trying to imagine being there. Its festive time and its the first time shes going to be home. Am sure that she’ll be very composed about me but still get that feeling that things are still fresh. I think I know why I want to meet her. I want to see her surrender in my presence. Give me the feel that in her dreams she always wanted to be with me. She surely never will. Infact she must already be in love with that lucky bastard. I hope she is.

I was thinking of a name for the world where the very happy myself is going to live…where I’ll still be craving to learn to play the guitar and would still hold that dream to buy a Contessa…where the guitar would eventually lead us to a drive from her home to mine…where I’ll still believe in catching falling leaves or spotting a lonely star..where I’ll still talk to the moon..and where I’ll still pick flowers and write letters. I’ve changed a good deal since the last time I kissed my black and white girlfriend…and I haven’t heard ‘Unchained Melody’ since then.

Everytime I do something that I haven’t done SINCE THEN..it strikes my mind the fact that it was a different world, the last time I did this…be it listening to some song..going to the railway station to get my reservation done…even wearing a shirt that I hadn’t worn since then. A lot of these ‘since then’ activities are still to com. The most prominent one I foresee and already feel about is that for the first time, I’ll be going to Nepal without planning and hoping to win her heart. I used to enjoy the railway struggle. I call it a struggle because most times I don’t have a reservation for a 20 hour journey. At times I didn’t even possess a ticket. This time too I only have a ticket and though I’m going home mostly for her (for me) but I still don’t see that I’ll enjoy the struggle this time. I find it hard to imagine myself talking to her. I aren’t prepared. My weird friend had asked me what I’d say to her and I replied that I wouldn’t have to start…she would and then I’d find things to say to her. I aren’t really as confident as I thought I was. Infact I now fear I might go home and return without making any effort for this meet that I am going home for.

Ugly

2006-09-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

25th September, 2006
I’ll never be able to explain this to Dids. She thinks my going home doesn’t make any sense. In an unexplainable way its makes sense to me.
Home isn’t going to feel the same anymore. The telephone ring is going to haunt me. That one month after returning from Kathmandu was like a very numb period. I didn’t feel a thing then but these days I get that feeling of emptiness..the prominence of the void more too often. I don’t let that feeling dominate but since that day after my 21st birthday, I’ve been looking forward to such an occasion. Alcohol consumption on an empty stomach does that to you. Crying never felt that good..as if convincing me that I’ve actually lost someone very dear..as if I wanted to prove to myself that I really really loved her much..that I deserved this cry…that I deserve to enjoy few more teary times.

Get this feeling that if not this time I won’t see her for years..and I want to see her. Maybe I want to hear it one last time..that last time that I’d want to last as long as I last. Its like I am looking forward to that recurring vision I used to have where I happen to see her after years. Because she’s the teacher of my son. Movie fantasy.

I couldn’t deny that wish..not a wish actually..a thought that sees her in a miserable state with a broken marriage or even worse. It wasn’t a thought that appealed to me but it did strike my mind. I wish I didn’t have such a sick thought even for a millisecond. I wish there was this other world where I could live this thought, if not the idea of marrying her, without feeling any guilt..where she’d love me and not feel guilty.

What if..

2006-08-24T23:27:00.000-07:00

Can't imagine i don't feel that moment anymore.....the start of summer and my plans....the guitar that would eventually lead us both to a Contessa drive from her home to mine. Had to find the flow first..a call to tell her i was back..and a brief meet next day.
'Forget Kathmandu'..she was there in all the protests..shouting slogans..living the thrill.....and she sure didnt know why she did that...she deserved to know and I stopped myself lest she deny to read..I gave her a week long time and waited.
After a week..it was she who called...thanks i lived upto my determination to not call her until she did....we met again adn she wasn't happy that she read that book..she didn't want to know the truths..she turned the pages of the book as she talked...never looking at me..and finally stopped at a page...looking fixedly at the picture on the page,she talked of it..I hadn't given any time to that picture when i was reading that book...she had given her heart to it...could sense she could actually feel the picture....why couldn't i feel that way..I realised why i couldn't do without my Jenny..why i loved her so so much.
We finally found the flow..it was like it was better than ever...the conversations...i even started speculating that I'd have nice story for my counselor and my friends by the end of summer..I was but cautious not to be carried away by any half chance or misinterpret anything....I was a bit too cautious...
What if i wasn't...only had i told her that I had waited for that bud to bloom...that i treasured it like my dearest gift...her good God didnt help either.
I was all prepared...I had even found the Contessa in Allahabad....and i was prepared to propose her for the drive...I was prepared to ask her for the last time. Somebody knew of my intensions and for a week long time despite desperate efforts I couldn't arrange that deciding meet....and before i knew I had to set myself for Kathmandu..didn't know that that would be the last time I'd talk to the Jenny I knew as mine..I still carried the bud that didn't bloom and planned stories I'd tell her as soon as i got back..The Classic and so many more stories that I had in store for her...The pages and the bits..Nihit and us..I've lost the feel now..but only if