“Hey Pranav”: Well, I am not a psycho (maybe a little as people say). This is what I am doing more often these days, talking to myself. I remember doing that before, not just once or twice, it was habitual. As far as I remember I was then a super negative piece of tart. But life was fine. With my wits, I could win any discussion at hand, if I felt it worth enough for me to get into, much astute with my plans and activities, more or less, self-sufficient. Since there is much cribbing in this phase of my life, this post would be no different. I’d crib as much as I want, for no one here care nor has the authority to care, even if willing. I have taken back all those rights, though the control factor which theoretically mine is still under construction. Moreover, this place, which I, from the core of my heart, dislike, a job which hardly saves me any moolah by the end of the month and have also ceased to provide me any growth as far as my experience and personality is concerned; help me in no ways. I did try my hands on ‘Twitter’ to bring back that life, but just felt myself impersonating someone that I am not. Sadly (disgustingly), I did at times patronised people, with my ‘now-dull-brain’, just to get into a conversation for some unknown reason, maybe just to feel a little alive. But I still have my ego, which differentiates me from the rest. Twitter, no more, till I am ready again. I’ll live again someday, without bargaining myself. I won’t talk about my job. It’s a lot more than what I deserve and what I could ask for. I couldn't’t, during the whole of my MBA, even imagine myself in a bank or an asset management company, that would have me run around in places I’d refrain from, in my sane life. Nor would I talk about this place. I’ve been in a place worst than this, all alone, at an age when one’s mother would gently pull her child close to her and place him/her on her laps and love her heart out. Not that there was some problem with THAT place, it was the people then, that caused me more pain and agony. Those were the days when I faced the real, much needed, trials of my life. 2 years of that suffering, and I was transformed. Next 3 years after that, bliss and the 2 years after that, inferno, and the next 2 years, bliss(est)<-- that, I KNOW make no sense. Wait let me make a sinusoidal graph of my life (I didn’t mean it, don’t force me in making one). But according to the graph (hypothetical, just imagine one), next few years would go BAD for me (Nah, stats are not always correct, don’t make me talk about the recession times now). Well, I’ll simply have to keep up with it. But I’m not gonna start with my autobiography here, not that I wouldn’t be interested, but it’s not an interesting one. Am I proud? Yes. No dark secrets or mistakes. Its helps me lead a happy life with a lot less baggage, less confusion, more open to opinions, etc (don’t feel like thinking more about the benefits now, sorry).
I remember me as a child, when my father, who had a good job which wasn’t good enough to support HIS wanton family, put at stake not only his happiness but that of his wife and his 2 really small children. Ignorant of the environment, I kept up with my demands, which in no ways could be fulfilled, no matter how small they were. A mere candy, that I cried for, which would’ve costed less than a rupee would raise a number of calculations in my dear mother’s head after which she, hiding her grave sadness and distress; probably her tears too, would smile embarrassingly and say, ‘beta abhi nai, baad mei pakka dilaunge’. I could have never understood what she must be going through, denying her son’s happiness. I grew up in an environment where money was always in scarce, but I hardly remember a moment when my parents kept me deprived of my LUXURIES (after the times mentioned above). I remember my dad running around in his “Bajaj Priya” frantically to keep up with all the misc activities just to gather a little more, to merely fulfil the needs of his family in times when he was suppose to pamper his wife and children. My dad is damn smart and very well educated, he’s an engineer and was a big shot, but no one can stand against the will of the undying ones. Why I say all this? I’ve hurt them and FEW more in the process of mourning for those who are busy wooing for others and consoling the heartbreaks of those who never made/(will make) any difference in their lives. I made my lovely sister cry, who, at any given day, if required, would shield me even if death itself wish to feel me. This is not the first time I did this and regret. I’ve done this over and over before.
I blame no one for this; intolerable, cranky, sad and sadist behaviour of mine. I’ll let go of the nastiness, rudeness and indifference inflicted upon me. I’d forget the fact that those, I stood by in their time of need, stranded me in a helpless state, to satisfy their rebellious and righteous craving for life. I can’t make anyone feel guilty for something for which their conscious is clear, if I can, then it’s well deserved. One prayer, I have to those watching and mocking me. Let THAT one, who pained me in those most needed days of mine, live happily in peace, for I still love her and would dare not think bad for her. I'll cry no more in the depths of my blanket or under the sky, in solitude. I’ll too move on someday, though not as soon as she did, but yes for my own good, sooner than I think.
I'll be angry no more....
