Wednesday, September 27


Yet another night when i cant sleep ... a few more nights like these and I will officially qualify to be a changdar or some other equally horrid nocturnal animal ...

I kind of feel sleepy until i actually put my head on the pillow , and then when the night envolpes my family , takes them to the wonderful utopia of dreamland , it leaves me alone to fend myself against a hornet's nest full of thoughts

It is when i lay alone in my bed and listen to the rythmic drone of the fan , and an occasional mosquitoe , i have emotions and thoughts in my head like those bits of fruits in the mixer before they are about to become juice , only here , it isnt something as sweet as juice.

I think of love ... i wonder if I still love him , i look myself in the eye in the mirror and check if its guilt or love that i can see there. I think of my studies and shiver , I still have 2 groups of Final to go. Ive been promising myself to write it in May , I cldnt write it last May , somehow , i cant seem to find time for studies ... cos again CA reminds me of him.

I think of career , and then after one goof up im not sure where i stand. I think of dad and then think of what he wanted for me , and how im not quite living up to it.

I look at the alarm thats set to go off in a couple of hours now , and i know by the time the alarm goes off , I'll be fast asleep , and my mom's gonna bring the roof down with her scoldings.

I think of marriage .. my mom's already begun about how long i intend to stay in "HER" house .. and I cant think of sharing my bed with a stranger, i try and think of the guy my mom's been talking about , but somehow , he ends up being there , instead of my mom's candidate in the "marraige election"

I think of all the legal work of my dad piled up and i'm jolted out of watever little drowsyness I've had until now .. thats a nightmare i dont have to go to sleep to experience.

I think of calling someone , but in the middle of the night , im sureto get 4 letter expletives from whomever I call , and again , if I call , people will ask me " is everything all right?"
I can not say no , i cannot say yes. I cannot cry , i cannot smile.

I think of the cold when my mom's gonna throw me out in my pyjamas to jog .. ( u need a 36-24-36 to get married , well, atleast according to my mom & her like... what you are shouldnt matter , how you look to others should matter ..)

By now I already have a royal headache , and I thirst for a glass of water , but i do not feel like venturing out of my room ... the 4 walls of my room give me a sense of security that the rest of the home doesnt. The 4 walls are where i see my dad smiling and standing in front of the mirror , playing with me. Every where else I see his corpse.
Whoever wrote mere naina saawan bhado , was right.

I think of everyone in my life , my family , my friends , my lecturers , my credit cards and I try to find myself among them ... OMg my credit card , and thats when i switch on my computer, I forgot to make the payment. I immediately pay online & i get several people who ping me and say Hi , Im not in a mood to reply back , i switch back to the invisible mode.

Finally , I see the Krshna wall paper .. & then stare at the Krshna on the wall of my room ... as though accusing him of everything , but never praying to set everything right .. I do not like asing favors , as it is he's screwed up my life enough , any more and I'll be used to open champagne bottles ( ok those who didnt get this PJ , wipe your tears , my life isnt as morose as Ive painted it here)
Rather , I think i stare at that because it was he who gave it to me, as a source of strength , because we both loved Krshna ... I dont know about him now , bu i hate Krshna now , and I have all the reason in the world to. I hate myself for 10,000 things , and I hate the paramtma in me.

After all this mindless venting of frustration , I hope I'll sleep ... the alarm shows I need to wake up in another 1.5 hours .. else I'l die of pnemonia in my pyjamas when she thorws a bucket of cold water on me and throws me out to go for a jog.


Rajesh said...

Hi Arpana,
Nice post. The ennui, the drone, the compulsions, the choices, they are all well expressed. You write as a river flows, undulating, seeking it's own course through so much of gravel.

After the loved one has gone and he has moved on and you have moved on, the spasms remain and they don't let you sleep for a long time.

By the way, parents are the same everywhere so don't fret.And, don't be sad. Remember, as Tennyson has said,
'Tis better to have loved and
Than never to have loved at all.

You don't know me, but yet...

arpana said...

@ rajesh , thanks ! im overawed by the sheer number of comments you've put in , I mean im used to seeing "0 comments" always and such a rich harvest was shocking ! :p ok jokes apart , thanks ... your thoughts are appreciated and accepted :)