Nameless

“Who is he?” My closest friend asked me this question last night. I replied with, “He is just a friend,” but I knew he wasn’t. That simple question is haunting me still. The incessant pressure it has created on my mind is questioning my every fiber of morality.

Before you ask, let me be clear. I am not romantically or physically involved with him. We do not even live in the same state. We speak different languages. We’ve spent at most 10 days—or rather, 10 nights—together. He sometimes talks to me for hours. He vents about his relationship problems, his business struggles, his views on marriage, kids, how to build a family, and then he tells me how being single is the best for him. He is shameless with me. He is honest. He behaves stupidly. He sometimes begs to hold him for five seconds. He flirts with me for an hour and then, when he sees some girl with fairer skin and a perfect body, he’ll go talk to her and none of us even feel bad.

Abyss

Then I hear the music. I can’t guess the song at first, but it gives me an eerie feeling. It’s ‘the’ song; it hits me, and I fall. Why can’t I hit the bottom? Am I drowning? Why can’t I swim? I see memories everywhere around me—all of them that I kept buried somewhere deep in my heart. I gasp for air, kick to stay afloat, but it doesn’t work. I go deeper and deeper. I gulp more and more memories. Memories of you. Memories of us. I see you cooking, dancing, drinking tea from your brown mug, holding me in your arms, gently kissing me on my nose. And I think, why am I fighting this?

Keep trying to grab the finger

You seem frustrated today.

I am.

It will be all right tomorrow or the day after.

You know nothing! This line is bullshit. It’s a bumper sticker. That’s what people say, who know nothing about anything and don’t even want to try solving someone else’s problem.

Well, you are in luck. I know. I know everything.

Oh c’mon! Why are you being so annoying today?

I am not. What are you worried about, tell me?

Everything. Today, tomorrow, next year, the future, my retirement days, money, love, relationships, marriage. Oh god, marriage! That’s gonna be a shitshow. I know it.

That’s a lot to worry about, Kavya.

Yes, and tomorrow, it’s not gonna be okay. These questions will be there tomorrow; only I would have one less day to live and solve these in my lifetime.

Oh my God, Kavya. Breathe. It’s not a math paper to solve in 60 minutes.

Yeah, I know. I know.

Good! Keep telling yourself that now and then.

What about you? Aren’t you worried? You have a six-month-old baby with you today. Aren’t you worried about her future? Haven’t you planned something for her in your head?

What a pretty little prison of mine!

It took me 29 years, and five months to realize what Charlie said. Charlie from The Perks of Being a Wallflower. How can we be both happy and sad at the same time? It seems paradoxical, insane or you’d have to be bipolar or so emotionally impaired that you can’t even decide if it’s a good or bad day. But here I am. Feeling conflicted about what a great night this is while three hours ago, I was trapped in my own thoughts, staring out of my balcony and saying what a pretty prison I’ve built for myself!

How can the life you’ve chosen be so lonely yet fulfilling? How is it possible to have solutions to all the problems in the world but not your own? Why can’t you unlove and disown someone who you know for a fact is unworthy of your love? Why are all your positive emotions so entangled with a negative one? Why can’t your brain stop solving the puzzle of life? Why do you always pick up armor, sword, and helmet and get ready to go to war with society when you don’t have to? Why is two o’clock in the morning the time when you start typing? Why can’t you stop looking at him when he’s sound asleep, knowing deep down that it’s a love that’s not meant to be?? Why do small talks have to end? And why, oh why, can’t we find the right person at the right time? Or at least know that there will never be the right one, so don’t even try?

Somebody freeze my brain before I start counting all the whys.

404: No Internet Service Found

Under the name of ‘smart electronics,’ I’ve connected everything to Wi-Fi. From laptops and mobiles to TV, everything is hopelessly dependent on Wi-Fi, and today, God tested us. Network loss from 10 am to 10 pm on Sunday! For my mother, Sunday is to watch a Marathi movie; for Yash, my brother, it’s an IPL day! If you ask me, I spend the day lying on the sofa, watching Mom and Yash decide what to watch & be a judge in case their argument goes to third umpire.

Orange

Dear Ananya,

I know you live in a world of Snapchat, Instagram, Reddit, and whatever else you use, but I’m still stuck with old ways of communication. So please read the letter to the end.

I’ve been watching a lot of teenage movies, trying to understand your generation through them and I am finding the life of teens more and more difficult, complex, deceiving, and most of all frightening. People somehow gave ‘being a misfit’ both a bad name and a proud parade. But I know for a fact that only the misfits know the burden of being it. Lately, I feel that you’re also struggling to find yourself. I wish I had the answers to your questions. I wish I knew your questions let alone their answers. All I have is a story. I’m going to tell you that today.

If You’re Lucky

A monk lives in me
Calm, peaceful, sane
Who knows everything
But belongs to nothing

The monk hides quietly behind this dude
Who has a stand-up collar, rolled-up sleeves
Who walks with a bounce, talks with a style

Monk comes forward when he sees a fellow companion
Dude steps up when life throws lemons after lemons

When in Hampi

“You should keep talking; it’s lovely to hear you.”

This is the first thing he said to me.

Our story started three years ago, and I hope it finds a good ending. I was backpacking across Karnataka and stayed at a beautiful historical place called Hampi. Every morning I would get dressed and cross the river of Tungabhadra to explore the city of ruins. Before this solo trip, I had just completed a 10-day course of Vipassana, a form of meditation where I had to strictly follow noble silence. After that, traveling solo was becoming somewhat lonely.

One evening, I was sitting on the stairs of the riverside ghat, waiting for the last ferry boat to get me back to my homestay. I met a few Indian travelers. Finally, my loneliness was going to find an end. We talked about Hampi, Hinduism, Indian culture, patriarchal society, politics, globalization, and so many topics that I can’t even remember now.

“See, after 10 days of Vipassana, this is the most I have talked to ‘humans’ this month,” I said to Raj, the traveler from Kerala.

“You should keep talking; it’s lovely to hear you,” spoke a guy who had been sitting behind me for God knew how long and listening to every word I said.

Let’s Talk. About? Just Everything!

Humans have the ability to talk. It’s undervalued and underappreciated. Yet, overused. It’s also unused in a time of need.

Walk into a crowded market and ask a random person, were there any dark days in your life? The answer will be yes. How did you deal with it? That’s when things become interesting.

When the human brain is getting its software update in the teenage years, the person becomes extremely introverted or extroverted. Some live in their spiraling thoughts or some get themselves so busy that they won’t get any time to think. Either state is harmful. So harmful, that it could one day become so overwhelming that living another day means going to war against every living non-living thing on the earth.

This therapy ain’t working!

“No, I don’t think I’m delusional or filled with hatred.”

“Any hard feelings about the last relationship?” Dr. Avasthi asked me. Again. I somehow stopped myself from rolling my eyes.

“I don’t think so. Sometimes I feel like I should get a cat and name it Siddhanth, you know? I’ll be sitting on a sofa, curled up with a cozy blanket, watching a movie with a hot cup of coffee in my hand, and Siddhanth would come from under the sofa or somewhere, jump beside me, get on my lap, and sleep like a cute little thing. Then, I’ll look at it and I’ll get to say it again, “FUCK OFF Siddhanth!

Does that mean I still have some negative feelings about him, who’s to say?”