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August 16, 2007

Feels like the fog

It’s a funny morning. Woke up and for the first five minutes, was convinced that I am back in Kalimpong, mountain-town high up in West Bengal, missed being Sikkim by some kilometers. Mornings and noons were characterised by fresh, chilled breezes and the fog rolling down, covering the green mountain sides in clouds. I lived there for three of the best years of my life. The last of the girl was left behind there, me thinks.

It is cloudy on the terrace, with the most pleasant breezes… Not the breeze that this is the characteristic of this city, the tree-uprooting, dust throwing winds that come suddenly, gets into your eyes and mouth and leave as suddenly. The Kalimpong breeze – much like this morning – was always cool and clean, you could SMELL the breeze… It was more the chill though. Waking up to goose bumps sprinkled across your skin is a definitely delicious feeling.

Over the weekend, I have fought with one friend, while two others have called me a slut and a third, anonymously, sent me hate mail saying the person will be standing outside my office. All four people, are men. And seems funny, all this should happen right after the ‘I-have-a-crush-post’. It’s a bad thing, na… me being slightly happy? Smiles.

Adulation is such a double-edged rapier. Actually it’s always a naked blade, we just like to believe that once we have the adulation, it’s going to stay. But it’s fickle, because you can never be sure of what is drawing people and what are the inferences they draw either. Hmm. Anyway.

And yes, now marriage proposal rises to four – Maxine, who’s a woman, Varun, who was joking, He Who Must Not Be Named, whom I asked to marry and he refused and now Nat on myspace, who thinks I should marry him because November is like two months from now. On the other hand, was told that someone is “losing all the self respect and whatever else in me after the last couple of posts.” Shrug.

Someone else asked: “Why do you doubt yourself? Why do you write what you write? Why do you constantly contradict yourself? A blog is more important to you than friends and people.” Friends and people who weren’t there in my life two months back? And given that such lines are being written after two honest blog posts… LOL…am sure those friends and people wont be around for much longer either.

I constantly contradict myself – though I don’t think I do – because perhaps I am finding out/ discovering/ realizing a lot of things even as I type them out on this blog. And because I am human and I make mistakes and being a weird human, I write about them in public. And WHEN have I ever pretended that I have all the time in the world for someone else? I might have the time, I often use it lying on my bed writing something, or typing on the laptop, or sleeping, or playing with my dogs, or writing in my notepad…

“Contradict yourself” – you mean when I say I want friends and then push away people who try to befriend me?
“Contradict yourself” – you mean when I announce that I don’t want anything to do with love and then go tell someone I have a crush on him?

Oh yes, those do sound like contradicting myself. And look! I wrote, in this very post, that I don’t contradict myself. And now am doing so. Oh my god, what a liar, no?

You see, friendship for me does not mean constant hanging out or constantly sitting in each other’s laps or discussing everything etc etc. It definitely does not mean constant companionship; not anymore that is. Please understand that I am or have never been… ARGH.

Actually, NO. Believe what the fuck you want to believe. If friendship means OWNERSHIP, hah. Dude, when my parents cannot claim full ownership – and I don’t think anyone’s can – how the hell does someone else expect it?

And what is with PRETENDING you can understand me? I am MOST irritated because I shared things with you that I don’t write about. YES, imagine, after all this so-called honest blogging, there are STILL things I don’t write about. And I shared them with you. Not because I need a secret keeper, HAH, for all my talking, I can be the most fucking close-mouthed person you can EVER meet. EVER.

(Clenches teeth, deep breathes and thanks whoever for the umpteenth time that the object of ire is not physically present…)

And another messaged, late into the night, woke up from deep, disturbed slumber to read: “I miss having someone in my life who feels as much pain as I do. On a daily basis. Not pockets of it, every once in a while, but bushels and bushels of it every day. I am sorry to trouble you. This time in the night. But I needed to send that message out. Really needed to. Sorry babe, just loneliness making me take extreme measures.”

Another person who should be having his woman next to him, to hold him, love him, talk to him, support him, listen to his brilliant ideas, hear what he did at work, enjoy his meals with him, discuss movies and music and books with, someone to play word games with, someone to go on his road trips across the country… Someone to just to tell him he can love her and she won’t be scared and would love him back. BUT.

We had thought we could date…we both needed the same things; and for the first time in my life, in fact he is the only one, with whom I could talk for hours and hours on the phone. Other than two of my closest girl friends – lol, actually the only two friends I have! – I cannot talk on the phone beyond the first “what else is happening”. But we were in different cities… and unsure what the chemistry would be if and when we did meet.

And in between those speculations was our respective need for space. He told me his previous girlfriends did not give him space. I had not given much to my previous boyfriend…. So I gave him as much space as I could. Unfortunately, for an online interaction, it proved too much. While I was giving him ‘space’ – meant not calling him when I thought he was busy, not calling him after work because I thought he would be with friends, not calling him generally till he would call because I would assume that if a man wanted to talk to you, he would call – he was taking it otherwise. He called one day, irate, to say that I did not care enough. Why? Because I did not call him enough and was giving him too much space.

Well. That was that. Ever since we have introduced this concept of space in our relationships, it’s become rather skewed I tell you. We want our space, but we want someone to constantly wait for us on the fringes of that space too…so that when we surface, they are there. We want to give space but we are a little scared if that becomes too much space. Sigh. Uffff. Too much.

And if I write more, I will include four other points in this post, which would make it even longer. Rather irritated, bye.


Anonymous said...


the mist, the fog, the all will clear :-) and i am sure you will find what you are looking for.

but why don't i ever figure in your blog entries. i wanna be a celebrity too :-) fame or notoreity (is the spelling right?) is fine with me.

ha ha. keep laughing. in the end that's all there is :-D

burf said...

i shouldn't have read this "too much space" concept

confused now :-/

taurius1 said...

Space... >_<

That's always been a wierd concept for me. For me, I love to spend as much time as I can with friends. If I can't, I'm okay with it. But I'd rather know that there's a concrete reason for someone not keeping on touch, or not being able to spend time with me. Something more than, "erm... i guess i'm busy"

*sigh* Space issues ruin the best of things, a lot of times. :(

Anonymous said...

I am not an angel and do not pretend to be. That is not one of my roles. But I am not the devil either. I am a woman and a serious artist, and I would like so to be judged.
Maria Callas