What's the single biggest advantage of being a blogger on blogspot when everybody has moved to wordpress and when you are followed practically by no one? (Hint: The single biggest advantage is also the only advantage.)
The answer is quite simple –You can write whatever shit you want, whenever you want, however you want – because no one’s reading – what does it matter? So what the fuck I am doing here in the middle of the night in a week in the middle of winter? When the dark is darker, dense fog settles itself over the ocean. I dont know, I just felt like talking without anyone actually hearing me. See! not every post needs to have something meaningful to it, just like the girl who left you without an explanation. Not every word needs to have an insightful thought attached to it, just like the boy who offered you that smile while he passed by. Crazy. right?
Ok we gotta talk something, right? Thats how things move. So imagine sometime in the mid-90s. A school classroom. Charts with drawings in crayons hanging around its walls. A serious teacher with pale eyes facing a class of kids, who sit on little wooden chairs and write whatever been told in their brown little notebooks. I remember writing something "I will be good homan being". Hesitant, unsure handwriting, words spelled wrong, I wrote it "I will be a good homan being". A simple sentence. A sentence that is made up of simple thoughts. Respect elders. Help others. Be kind. Say the truth. A lot of memories have been faded by time but somehow I managed to grip that moment and kept it in a mental safebox. Kids are cute people, they believe whatever been told to them and over the years kids evolve, they make their choices and let's just say they change. Sometimes they do things they are not proud of. And this hurt. It will never be the big things that hurt you the most. Always the tiny things. And you will always forget this.
I wish I would not have caused so much hurt to people. I really have hurt a lot of people, with rather violent repercussions. I wish there was more in my life just than eating, sleeping and disappointing people. And as if people were not enough now even my stomach is upset. But lately, I have been exploiting the stereotype so bad that people have quoted stuff from Indian Penal codes thats supposed to make me go “Boss! maaf kardo jail nahi jaana". I have been douchebag cracking lame jokes on my north eastern, muslim, reserved category, short friends that I probably deserve a special place in hell. I should probably stop chewing my butterflies. I have been losing friends faster than Modi is losing votes. Most of my friends don’t call me anymore, and those who do, call me a jerk. I mean, I have been compared to a metalic table in context of my sensitivity levels, and the table has won invariably. And to be honest, which I have seldom been, not in the college exams at least, I do not blame any of my friends, or ex-friends. I am not proud of the guy I have been lately. Those who have still stuck to me in spite of me should be brand ambassadors for Fevicol.
I dont mean to hurt people when I hurt them. Its a bit complicated... see if it looks like I took really good care of a book, it usually means I didn't like it. When people are hurt they are their most sincere. One of the most beautiful line I heard (actually heard) was by a badly hurt and heartbroken friend. I distinctly remember this friend saying "It was terrible and painful and beautiful and unforgettable and I don’t know how to be without it anymore.” she said a lot of things that day. I like listening people in the hope I’ll find fragments of me in other people’s feelings. You may think that’s exploitation of other's emotions. But it’s really quite a comfort to know there are always so many in pain. Its not that difficult to make people open their heart out. Talk to them, map the conversation in such a way it leads to heartache. Now I think of myself as lost constantly on this map. Always going somewhere or getting away from it. Somehow meaning to get someplace and yet ending up elsewhere; exactly where I ought to be.
I dont mean to hurt people, I try to understand them. Probably not the nicest way right? I know. I am working on improvement.
And a lot of times I have opened my phone, I didnt have anything in mind but to distil my sincerity in words and tell them please dont be upset and meant it everytime and chose to not send because those words felt like fraud. You cant heal emotions with a bandage of paragraphs. I don’t know what this post is all about. Maybe I am guilt tripping and trying hard not to make this one of those stupid, repetitive, meaningless and false posts about human nature and all that shit. I dont know its 4 in the morning. Maybe I am feeling lost. What have I lost today? But loss is still just a word. It’s what you’ve attached to it that makes it a fire-breathing dragon. Or a hole in your gut. All of us, there are deep cuts in all of us. At certain stage my friends might have let me look inside, but I never thought I can fix that. I know I cant. I just love the part of them that's still whole. Thats's it, pretty convenient and irresponsible. But thats ok. And I should stop writing now. Its not making any sense. But how to end it? Maybe I should just... stop.
