Monday, April 26, 2010
31st December 2008
I was having a blast…..a band had finished covering all old rock classics from Led Zepp to Deep purple, and the DJ had started spinning sander van doorn. I was having the time of my life, and the drinks were all paid for.
Clearly there were perks to having an uber cool cousin with multiple girlfriends on his way to an IIM.
I leaned over to the bartender and ask for one more. “ For she’s buying the stairway to heaven” I reasoned.
I noticed the familiar pretty girl with three piercings on her right year look at me for a while. I politely looked back. She looked away with a smirk.. I walked over to her and sat down at her table.
“You’re not from around here are you?”
“Now why would you say that?”
“You have a different air about you. The way you easily got people dancing two nights before at Rakshit’s place and your easy going attitude, I’d say Mumbai, but judging by the way you socked that guy without provocation and broke his nose, I’d say Delhi.”
“People in Delhi can dance too you know, they don’t go around shooting everything that gets in their way. Besides I didn’t break his nose on purpose, I never wanted to.Even though I had enough reason too. But I must admit, it did feel pretty damn good.”
“It sure did turn a lot of drunk girls on.”
“And I don’t think its wrong for me to assume you were on of them?”
“Typical arrogant Delhite you are.”
“Touché. It’s only arrogance when I’m wrong”
“You Delhi boys are all the same. You are overprotective of your women and look at the rest as nothing but playthings, and when you don’t get your toys, you go crying to your mothers.”
“Considering my mother’s been dead 15 years, I don’t have anyone to go crying to now do I?”
“My sympathies.Oh dear look at the time, I better run, have a friends place to go to.Goodbye Mr Delhi”
“Goodnight to you. Happy New year. Will I know your name in this year or the next?”
“Oh we’ll meet, don’t worry about that Amartya.” She winked.
I wondered how she knew who I was. But then I let it pass. There were probably dozens of people who knew me and who’s names I didn’t know.
I took out my notebook to write the conversation down. Who knew, where and when I might use it?
I looked around the room and saw her. It was as if all the ethanol in my bloodstream had caught fire.
I tapped her on the left shoulder She turned around and saw me. Her smile changed into an expression of fright, guilt, sadness and thrill all in one. For a split second I thought she was about to reach up and kiss me like she did.
“ Amar…….oh….” She looked up at the guy next who looked at me with a quizzical expression on his face.
“Dhruv, this is Ama-“
“Amartyaraj Bhattacharya. And you are?”
“Dhruv Singhania. So you two know each other?”
“Yes. I was her squeeze until two months ago.”
“Could you excuse us for a moment Dhruv?"
"what is it with you now?" She asked.
“What? What? Does it matter to you that I wake up in some other girls’ bed every now and then? Does it matter to you that I’ve taken to smoking pot again? Did you ever care? Did whatever we have mean anything to you, or even a part of what it meant to me? And the answer Is no. You just wanted to get off on me. ”
Fourteen shots of vodka, three pints of strong beer which shared its name with a small town in Bengal and a small rough blend of pot and tobacco rolled. I wasn’t going to stop. I could forgive myself later and think or forgiving her after that. But right then, it seemed as if all the anger in me regarding that person , all the anger that I kept within myself had finally found voice. No no keeping it to myself today. Not now.
Of course,… she didn’t know how drunk I was.
“Why did you tell me you loved me? Why did you tell me you cared? Why did you pretend to be that way, when you knew how much you…..no …IT.. meant to me?”
“Amar is not like that –“
“Call me Amar one more time, and I swear to Go-“
You want to know ?because……well…..its different now….and I don’t know….its just impractical….its not that I don’t have feelings for you….I can’t explain…..”
“You can never explain. Because there is nothing to explain. You just wanted to get off on me. “
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand and I don’t want to. Every time, Every fucking time. God I should be use to this by now- “
“Oii..That’s enough man, lets go out…. Take a few breaths of fresh bong air, and you’ll feel better…..” My cousin “….I’ll deal with him” He added to her.
“You’re one fucking cold bitch you know that?. I should’ve nailed you when I fucking had the chance. Even a whore would care more than you ever would.”
“Hey hey …man.. cool down” said the jackass she was with.
“ A word of advice. Don’t bother keeping a tight leash on her, its not worth it. She’s going to drive you into someone elses hole eventually. She always has and always will.”
“Watch your mouth”
“You watch your balls. You don’t want to find crows scavenging of them in the morning do you?”
“What’s your problem man? You threatening me?” He pushed me.
Like a reflex action, my left arm swung into action. I don’t remember if I got to his nose first, or if it was his abdomen, either way, he was on his back on a table with me about to smash a bottle on his head anyway. He pushed me.
“STOOOOP IIIIIT” she screamed.
In all my rage, I had forgotten about the rest of the people. Present around me. They all looked at me like humans look at a grizzly bear that walks into their camp. I dropped the bottle,
“Enough bro, lets go outside for some air” my cousin said.
I heard him whisper “My cousin from Delhi, you know how they are… I’ll take care of him” to someone.
SHE came out to stop me. I didn’t know if it was my sub conscious sense of humor, but this was increasingly becoming more like a bollywood scene.
“Get the hell out of my way” I growled and pushed her aside.
I left her there hurting. Crying. She was as good as dead to me now. Either that or I had forgiven her. Hard to differentiate.
Next thing I knew, I was sitting cross legged on the grass in a small park.
“What happened man? Who is she? I’ve never seen you like this before…what’s up?
“That’s because you’re fucking seeing me after I was two years old. I’m sorry about ruining the party man. “
“Are you kidding me? If it was my girl, I would’ve smashed the bottle on his head Anyway, This kind of stuff is usual for my crowd man, they don’t give a shit. “”
In my social hierarchy I just went all the way down from Bastard to Victim.
“Look at yourself Amartya”. It was her again.
“Bhai, tell her to go away, or it won’t be pleasant”
“Could you excuse us for a moment?”
“Uhm…uh…..alright..I’ll be around….just in case..”
Typical him. Can never say no to a girl.
“What do you want now? Sympathy sex?”
She didn’t reply
My eyes were beginning to moisten. I ‘d had enough.
I got up took her hands looked at her in the eye.
“ I Love you Priya….I always have…. .. and always will…. No matter what. Trivialities like Distance , Time, practicality… don’t bother me. You can be with whoever you want to be with , do whatever you want to do….I am yours till death….. if you care to keep me……… I dare you.”
And saying that I kissed her. Perhaps it was the last. Perhaps not.
I walked away to join my brother for a smoke to end my bollywood scene.
I open my eyes to see a cross with Jesus.
I wonder if I’m dreaming or in heaven, but then Jesus wouldn’t be on a cross in heaven, I realize that the cross is hung on a wall. My head is heavy and I feel dizzy.I feel like throwing up. The realization sinks in, like a heavy rock being dropped down to my stomach bed.
I have failed again.
But this time it hurts. It hurts bad. After a few seconds of hurting I let it pass, After all that’s what I am right? A good for nothing failure.An emotional wreck. A dreamer.
So what if I failed to kill myself? Maybe some people are just supposed to suffer. Maybe some people aren’t supposed be happy, or be at peace. Some people are just born to fail.At everything. Some people are just not supposed to win.
Who was the first man to climb Everest? Really? Who was the third?
After a long time, I feel my chest aching . My emotions get the best of me. I can’t hold in the tears. I let them fall.”This was not how it was supposed to be” I tell myself. The imaginary bubble I made for myself has left me. I will miss it dearly. I look around, my hospital room and notice that the temperature control on the window air conditioner is set to ‘Mid’. I notice a candy bar wrapper and a few tissues in the waste basket. Someone was here. Someone was crying.
In the midst of this someone comes through the door. I turn my head and pretend to be asleep. It’s the nurse. She goes through the dozen pharmaceuticals on the table beside me, picks something up and walks out.
A thousand thoughts flood my brain, like someone opened a dam gate. Wish I had a cigarette..Maybe ten.
Atleast I know I slept for a long time in a long while. A permanent cure to my sleep trouble it would be.
To be tired and not be able to sleep is one of the worst situations in the world.
My head it seems refuses to become lighter.
I think of my last few moments of my life before I took the pills. I think of the events that could have possibly led to where I am now.
They say suicide is for the weak. For the ones with no courage. The ones who seek to escape. I disagree with the first two.
To take another man’s life takes courage yes. To take ones own however, requires more.
Everyone fears death.
I look at death as a journey filled with hope. Strangely, I wasn’t scared. I felt the same way one feels before setting of for a trip abroad, or the day before your first day in a new class. …………
[To be continued.]
Sometimes aspirin can't cure a headache. Sometimes sleep is not what you need. Sometimes all you really crave for, is chilled beer, and a smoke to seal the deal.
Life seemed short a few months ago. Life was overflowing with optimism.The age of 25 was within sight.Success was pulling me towards it, like a magnet pulling iron nails.
Now, thrown into this dark hole crawling with lust, betrayal, longing and despair looking at the occasional sun crossing over the opening,I wait for the day i can summon the strength to climb out.
I'm exhausted. Tired, of shooting arrows in the dark. Tired of my thoughts which behave like a gaggle of geese playing with little children in a room filled with toys at a busy intersection with impatient drivers honking while blowing black metal at loud volume on a hot summer day in Delhi.
My thoughts that churn brain fluid at a slow sluggish speed. I wish i could silence them. Silence them for once and for all.
An irritant need. Waiting for the teacher to arrive...for the student is ready.
Hope is a lie. Grace does not exist.
The idle mind may be the devil's workshop. I am possessed. Parasites crawl through my veins, they swim through my bloodstream. Feeding on my emotions, feeding on my malignant heart.
Failure is the norm. Failure, my biggest fear. The battles lost, The war a long tiring one.
I'm falling asleep.