Interpreter of Maladies
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
A story-not so well written...OVER AND OUT
Well, where do I start? How do I begin to begin telling you about myself? Or else, do you care to know me...whatever, I would still go through the bother of forcing you to lend me your ears. After all, you chose to browse through this page and read this trashy story. The story about me. From my huge sentences and highly uncomprehendable English you must have guessed that I am a woman. I have been on this planet for 30 years and though I am not a huge fan of life, its not been a bad road after all. Maybe I drove rash, a few roads here and there. Maybe I ran out of fuel and was stuck on those few turns but over and above I came out unscathed.
Being a woman makes life so much easy on some counts and uphill on many others. There were times I could wring my way out of situations by just the little flirtish glance and the fluttering of eyelashes. Not that I have much charm to show off but still the limits to which I could use it were exciting. Then again there were times when I could give anything for being a man for a split second. Times when I was told I was not "strong enough". They might have as well said "not man enough". As if I care.
Fighting for myself in the bad bad world was something I enjoyed at the start. Clinching things which were not meant for me; Browbeating men who thought themselves as the center of the universe; Showing the worth of brains when it was least expected-But then few years back the game of winning and losing lost its charm for me. Being called a "selfish bitch" by men; a "ruthless go-getter" by women and safely avoidable by everyone else. Being a nice person at heart didnt help much either. Being unhooked to the safe creature called a boyfriend was another black mark in my personality.
When we touch the sensitive point of boyfriend-I have a big bad history. Breakups were frequent and fast. I never liked someone enough to get along with for more than a month. The sudden flashes of brilliance were great. I love men for how intelligent they can really be, sometimes. Most of the other times, they are plain drab, common stuff-with all their prototype men like characteristics.
The few rare members of the opposite sex who have really made me feel interested in a relationship or something that comes close to it have been taken even before I set my eyes on them. The guy I met on the subway for instance. The sly smile and the lanky frame arrested my eyes for quite some time before I heard the sob story about a certain lovelorn girlfriend.
Or maybe X too. X is the finest specimen of his species-at least that's what he believes. Which again leads him to claim that he has drop dead gorgeous looks which could even slay me. Well, I knew X for ages. Friends and all that. I was never attracted. There was just too much loud mouth frontality about the guy. But then, that one day when he bent on his right knee to propose to me, only a stone could have managed a no. The rock solid girl I was-even I found it super hard to manage an indifferent smile. X has always idolized his perfect girl in me-the reasons for the same are hardly comprehendible to me-this even drives me to believe that X is nuts and can't think straight. But I have had other priorities like climbing the ladder faster than the others; making plans, strategies what not; reading poetry but never sensing it; feeling love but never-just never-accepting it.
X has been mine for years now. Every year, I get bouquets of red roses on my doorstep. He is always the convenient shoulder to rest my head on. Also the perfect pillar to throw my brickbats at. He has always told me on each one of my birthdays that I am his girl and he would be damned if I ever found someone else. Well, for his pleasure, I am not on the lookout. There isn't any time for that. There are better, bigger things on hold.
But then, the world turned upside down yesterday. Was it not my birthday yesterday? Why was I then all alone and grumpy in my house all day? Why weren't there any roses on my doorstep or any friends that I could celebrate with? No phone calls to wish me; no one to care. I was not really sad but more on the lines of shocked. For the first time in 10 years, X has not showed up. He is plain and simple, out of reach on his mobile. Not that I call him very often but I at least expect him around on my special day. It seems my prerogative now. I called up friends, family..everyone who was anyone to X but zilch. I was worried as hell. I never really care about anyone-never for this silly man who has wooed me for all these years-but then why am I really getting mushy all of a sudden. "Change of heart, eh", I ask myself. There are no clear answers. I can guess this little anxiety I am feeling inside. The sudden urge to pick up my car keys and give the guy a surprise at his flat become overpowering. But I have never really bent down ever, have I. Why make an exception now. Maybe X forgot the birthday, seems remote, but maybe he did. Why do I expose myself by feeling at a loss at him forgetting the day. Not required, no.
Arguments seem baseless now. I'd rather do something rather than fighting it out within myself. I persuaded myself to believe that this is a mere friendly gesture-just to find if X is ok or not. The car keys finally spring into action. I drove across the town to the small flat on the high street. His flat is just like him. Small, non entity, condescending. What luck, the door is unlocked. A sudden color sprang to my cheeks. Hell, I know why I am here and I'd rather be a good girl and accept it. I am too old to blush anyways.
The door is ajar, and stepping in, I see flowers strewn across the hallway. Well, he did intend to bring in the flowers. Maybe he just didn't feel upto it. The sudden crackle of laughter broke my thoughts. The laugh was infectious. A girl's laugh. A girl. In his flat. It was X's flat. Wasn't it.....There was not much explaining that I needed. It seemed like a blur. X coming out and explaining about the whirlwind wedding. The beautiful young bride.
Hey, what happened to us. I sure can't ask that...only if I could shake him up and ask him...couldn't you ask me one last time ????
Monday, December 12, 2005
How is IIMC different from IITK-1This is one series I was thinking of writing since a long time. It is a "series" as I have impending exams and so would write little, but of significantly higher value :D. Now this topic is something I have grappled with ever since I have come to IIMC. I have tried to compare the two institutions in my mind and have always thought that it makes for an interesting discussion between friends; Well my two pence for your perusal:
IIMs draw a lot of cultural inspirations from IITs, providing a similar setting and administrative system and almost holding a similar regard in the society. IIMC borrows most of its culture from IIT Kgp as a) amongst all IITians that make up this place, the majority are Kgpians and b) Both Kgp and IIMC grapple with the same issues-the problem of being an autonomous institute in West Bengal; of being stranded in a state which does not have much of a city life to offer c) Maybe the first few entrants, the culture making beginners at this place would have included a few Kgpians and their backgrounds would have affected the way traditions moulded themselves at IIMC. I have not personally visited IIT Kgp and the sole source from which I draw this inspiration is the fact that the Kgp denizens at this place seem to be so much in sync with the culture at IIMC. There has to be some kind of link. While the rest of us crib about the dilapidated hostels, the moss on the walls, the really unhygienic food and the morose/sad environs inside the campus-I hardly see Kgpians complaining-maybe because they feel at home with this campus. As for the rest of us, we face problems at the lack of doing nothing within the campus and the absolute mediocrity of facilities inside-not that this is all that goes in to make a great campus-but coming from our contexts this is what strikes us the most.
Well, so much for now. Would write the next brief soon.
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
At fault and regrettingMy faults are numberous-one of them torments me more than others. I tend to push people against the wall. Sometimes become too domineering to push my point that I give absolutely no heed to the virtue called tolerance. Have been told this by numerous people-friends, folks, teachers. Sometimes I tend to think why am I like this? Has that something to do with my psychography-I hope not. Coming to terms with it, facing it and getting over it and realizing that I aint perfect and sometimes talk more foolish than the foolest people I know-is something that has yet not happened. Well, here is a start. I would list my faults and mark me when I repeat them.
1. I am stubborn. Too stubborn.
2. I dominate and in the process spoil everything nice about me.
3. I intend to lose temper faster than the knife melts the butter.
4. When I lose my nerve the first thing I do-is talk foolish.
5. I love as badly as I hate people.
I know this could make anyone hate me. Yeah, makes me hate myself too. This day is dedicated to thrashing this out, then. Want to find out whats wrong...really !!
Thursday, December 01, 2005
A verse from memoriesI had read this long back...dont even remember when but it will always be amongst the lines that has affected me the most. Its called MY WAY...
I am not a star
There is no halo over my head
Fate doesn't like the color of my eyes
Struggle and strife are friends of mine
Who am I?
I am survival. I am guts. I am pride. I like odds.
Especially when they are stacked against me.
Because there will come a time when I will stare them in the eye.
And smile the smile of the one who's pulled it off
I am the guy who will have
deep lines on his face someday
And it'll make me good when I laugh
Because that is the day
I will fear no fear
And taste sweat that is sweet.
And look back for the
very first time and say,
I did it my way,
the long hard way.
If there is something that would always matter to me-it will be friends. Those whom I can do anything for--for whom I will not even think twice before I hold out my hand. Many a times it has seen me going right into the mouth of trouble-making a fool of myself but I have always believed in having a few but loyal friends and to stick by them, whenever necessary. If someone slings mud on a friend, I would always be there to take his/her side. I believe it is important to take a stand because if you see something wrong happening then ignoring it is a bigger crime than being a part of it. Why all these sermons...
Well, I took a stand yesterday. One of the election nominees happens to be a friend-one who had a family emergency back at home and had to rush back to be of help. When I see the supporters of the other candidate trying to gain political leverage out of his misfortune--No, I can't resist it. So I took a stand and though I have heard a lot of brickbats today, if there is one thing I am certain of--I dont regret it. It has crystallized my beliefs that truth would always face repercussions and if truth is what I wish to live by, I need to be ready to face insinuations too. If what I have learnt from it holds good then I know now who are the ones who would never fail me, who would always stand by me and who would be the ones who would be ready to run away given the first opportunity. In effect, its a great realization-one that has brought immense peace to my mind.