I haven't been able to get him out of my mind. This is a really odd feeling, and one i haven't felt for sometime now. It happened like this.
I've already mentioned my friend Tappa, the super adorable father-wannabe who thinks i'm the person he'll get that dream with. Despite the fact that i've made it clear that he's the only one dreaming that dream, he pursues me. It's sweet. And at times, a little too much. There's only so many times a girl will tolerate "but we're meant to be together if you would only give yourself a chance to find happiness with me" at the end of an evening. It's too much pressure to take after a buddy-evening. And the anticipation of another such ending keeps me away from evenings with him. I'm not proud of it, but it is how it is.
So anyway, yesterday Tappa shows up at my office, with a bottle of white wine and two glasses. He takes me to the beach, where we walk the length of the shore, while he regales me with extremely forgettable stories. I laugh at the right times, make the apropriate noises that show i'm paying attention, while mentally, i listen to the sound of the waves. It was beautiful and peaceful, and made me stop in my whirlwind life for a few precious minutes.
His friend VJ comes by. They talk about what they do, while leaving me alone to notice the trails of footsteps that we were leaving in the sand. I was relieved that the friend was there because that meant that I could leave without the customary "we should be together" conversation. And things were going according to plan. I was heading home, they were heading to some other friend's house. Happy ending.
Then VJ says, "Let's go to a club." And before i knew it, the three of us were in a neighborhood club, dancing. And then a very strange thing happened. I found myself looking only at Tappa, dancing with Tappa, flirting with Tappa. Because, behind my back, VJ was holding... feeling my hand... And i was allowing it, touching him back. Trust me, when i say this, holding hands with a stranger has never been quite so erotic.
It began with the accidental brush of fingers. Then when fingers intertwined, it was hard to explain it away as accidental. When i leaned forward to say something to him, he pulled me into a hug, closer than necessary. I liked it. A lot. The evening ended. We hugged goodbye. Tappa still dropped me home. We DID have THAT conversation. But all i kept thinking was, "who was he?"
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Random Wrath - I
Do you envy the people who can get hurt by others? I do. It means they give a shit. It's good to give a shit. Once upon a time I used to. Then I decided its too damn painful. So here I am, not giving a shit, so that the only person who has any say in how happy or unhappy I am is me.
It's a pretty high pressure job, constantly monitoring happiness levels. Most of the time, one tends to shirk and choose "contentment" over the vagaries of happiness or unhappiness. It's also pretty lonely.
Not that writing it down is going to make me give a shit. It's just going to make me realise that no matter what I do, I probably never will change back to the person who really cared. Cuz that person is long gone.
Left behind is me, a girl who wishes she could get hurt by others. Imagine that. After spending a lifetime wishing people wouldn't hurt me, here I am wishing they could.
Talk about irony.
It's a pretty high pressure job, constantly monitoring happiness levels. Most of the time, one tends to shirk and choose "contentment" over the vagaries of happiness or unhappiness. It's also pretty lonely.
Not that writing it down is going to make me give a shit. It's just going to make me realise that no matter what I do, I probably never will change back to the person who really cared. Cuz that person is long gone.
Left behind is me, a girl who wishes she could get hurt by others. Imagine that. After spending a lifetime wishing people wouldn't hurt me, here I am wishing they could.
Talk about irony.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Reel Character
I don't own a TV. I haven't owned one, or had convenient access to one for about 6 years now. It's mostly because i am a couch-potato-at-heart with a magpie-like affinity for flickering images on screen. Given enough time, this tends to reflect on my productivity. Also, it's always easier to assume 'goodness' in terms of television content and quality when not faced with the truth. Anyway, the reason I'm confessing this dimly-lit side of mine is to put down a thought i have about a phenomenon that has, by and large, pretty much passed me by entirely - Reality Shows.
Specifically, one reality show called MTV Roadies. It happened like this. During the course of trying to come up with a real-time creative concept for the show, not being familiar with it per se, I decided to look it up online and watch a few episodes. And I'm appalled. Not by the quality of the show but the principles it's based on.
The makers of the show pay these teenagers a paltry (in today's age of inflation) sum of 2-3 lakhs to prove to their peers in the real world just how conniving, back-stabbing, selfish, petty and generally untrustworthy they can be. Then there's the VJ who keeps undermining their confidence and instigating paranoia - not their finest hour. And it's horrifying that the number of kids who line up every year to do more of the same keeps increasing.
My thought for the day: They should have asked for more money. Or maybe more character.
Specifically, one reality show called MTV Roadies. It happened like this. During the course of trying to come up with a real-time creative concept for the show, not being familiar with it per se, I decided to look it up online and watch a few episodes. And I'm appalled. Not by the quality of the show but the principles it's based on.
The makers of the show pay these teenagers a paltry (in today's age of inflation) sum of 2-3 lakhs to prove to their peers in the real world just how conniving, back-stabbing, selfish, petty and generally untrustworthy they can be. Then there's the VJ who keeps undermining their confidence and instigating paranoia - not their finest hour. And it's horrifying that the number of kids who line up every year to do more of the same keeps increasing.
My thought for the day: They should have asked for more money. Or maybe more character.
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