"'Truth is strange," you know, "stranger than fiction' - besides being more to the point" - Edgar Allan Poe

December 31, 2004

A moment of weakness

[This was written on the 29th night. Pi, when you read this in the future, please remember exactly how you felt.]

Salvation in a glass of rum. I never though it would happen, but it did.

I realize I have too many grouses about the world, but darned if I wasn't proved wrong today. The day started off quite normally, with me waking up with the usual grumpy ohshitanotherday feeling. Lunch at a ridiculously overpriced Samarkhand (29 Rs for a roti? No way!) and family for company ("krec? where's that?") left me feeling no better. This was followed by the mandatory 2 hours of Coldplay, loving myself (um...), napping and a visit to Ms. R_'s place, where she told me about her latest shopping adventures. Ho hum.

I checked back on my blog at the time and realized that life wasn't any better; in fact it'd only gotten worse. The tsunami deathwatch reached 68K, (Note: it's reached 120,000 now) leaving me in even more tension about buddies and pals in Chennai. Crap, I still think I'll be missing a few buddies once I hit college. I hope to god not, but the numbers are quite scary, not the kind of odds I want to bet against. Anyway, we were going to visit A_ and P_'s place again that night, and my cousin and myself were planning on spending the night there. Hopefully some relief from the pain of the world.

Let me explain what A_ and P_ are like. They got married a year ago, a love marriage that shocked the whole konkani clan, sending them into conniptions for a few months. I'm not certain P_'s parents are still chill with the fact, yet they weren't really left with much of a choice, so they smile and thank god that A_ is still a nice guy. Whatever. I like him though, he's... well, for lack of a better description - cool. A_ is your typical macho biker dude; 6' 4", biceps and triceps included, with invective flowing out at VERY regular intervals. A_ doesn't think too much about me (come to think of it, I'm not sure anybody does); he thinks I'm a pussy having been spoon-fed from birth and having had life too easy. P_ is one of my favourite cousins; we share cheap konkani jokes every once in a while and bond over matters of the heart. The only other person I can do this with is S_, my other cousin, with whom I entered A_ and P_'s flat. This flat is where I get a lot of my reading done, thanks to the neat collection of books that they've collected so far. The bookshelf had a new entry - Mike Moore's "Stupid White Men", another in his bushwhacking (punny?) series.

This book is totally depressing; I can understand how he hates the US Govt., but c'mon! There's sarcasm flowing through each page and a primal anger that seeps through each word and leaves you feeling like a silent bystander to the apocalypse that's sweeping through the world. Consider excerpts -
"Welcome to your 21st century nightmare!"
"Not a damn thing has changed in more than 120 years."
"Do you feel like you live in a nation filled with idiots?"
"It's the dirty little secret we'd rather not discuss"
"We're going to eliminate 10,000 jobs here- have a nice day!"
and so on…

(By the way, if you though I'd marked these sections to type out, you're wrong. I randomly picked out pages right now and typed the first things that hit me.)
By the end of all this (and I'm only halfway through the book) I was feeling even more pissed than ever. So the world is going to end. I'm living in the worst phase of history. Oh, to be born in Woodstock! Everything's so fucked up. It's doomsday, and it ain't science fiction. It's happening right now, baby, and there isn't a goddamned thing we can do to fix it. Fuck. And the US is where I want to go, to broaden my horizons and soak in the rest of the world. Ironic. Top it off with an identity crisis, gloom over myself, and terribly fried sausages, and you've got yourself a well roasted Pi sitting there dying for a drink and some soft drugs.

Look, these questions were ringing in my head - God, where are you? I know I'm atheist, but what the fuck? What reason to live, Goddammit?

What reason to live if it's all fucked up anyway?

I've got no drive, no mental peace, no sanity that'll help me conform? Suicide would be quick, cheap, and I'd finally leave the worst place to be- Earth!

"Let's play cards."

Huh? When did A_ start playing cards? He never has, that's for sure, and the clumsy handling of his own Harley Davidson collectors' edition cards made me wonder why he was even doing this. So the four of us got around on the laid out mattresses and started with an old favorite - bluff. Shuffle, deal (and explain the rules to him three times). We made trips to Donkey (an easier version of trump), some cheap card tricks, and various jokes with assorted levels of raunchiness. By the time we actually finished (4 am, mind you), we had died laughing atleast 6 separate times, gone through a half bottle of Reserva, and decided that it was against all logic for a 20+ man to wear 3-4ths in public again [sheepish grin].

That's when it hit me.

Look, I'm an amateur philosopher at best. I juggle logic around to find answers that suit me. I'm not much of a wordsmith either, and the stuff I write is decidedly simple, clean and tothepoint; simply because I lack the skill to go anywhere beyond that. I fake emotions when they're expected of me, and I get aggravated by attacks on my personal integrity. What I do like about myself is that I'm honest, make no doubt about that. I don't mean literal honesty; I still fib about my smoking and stuff like that. I mean personal stuff, like opinions and expressions and such. This leads me to hate the world for all the bullshit it throws at me everyday.

So when I find myself wiping tears of laughter off my face at this ungodly hour, realizing that I haven't enjoyed myself this much in ages, I'm sure something's changed. And it isn't just the alcohol that's making me talk, it's something much deeper. Sure, there's a hole in the ozone layer that's going to burn me up, I'm going to pay taxes to a government that I hate, and vice and lies are going to attack me at every point in my life, and kids in Somalia are going to go hungry for another night, ityadi. That doesn't bother me anymore, I think. Because if there's true happiness, I've realized that it's in letting yourself go, in sharing the secrets of the heart just to see your pal thinks of it, in asking yourself about the things you WANT to do, not complain about what's already happening, and look on each next day as a new challenge; not giving up before it's even upon you. This sounds like chickflick material, but I learned it the hard way.

Love is the reason the world goes around. Fuck the system, everybody's going through it anyway. And the system can never take away what I feel inside. It can try, but it's not going to work.

Jeez, I feel like a blonde pop starlet singing here, so please be gentle in your judgment. Today I truly felt something pure, beyond all the shit that's been driving me crazy for a while. So I suggest this to everybody around me- chuck away those self-help books, and start helping yourself. Stop bitching about what's bugging you, and go out and do something about it. Call up your buddies and thank them for bearing with you, tell them that it's been great hanging out with them (Hwingers, you know what I mean). Hug your girlfriend and ask for a hug back. Don't hate anybody; we're all human inside. Forgive your enemies, a hundred times if you must. It's the only way you can destroy them - by making friends of them.

You deserve better. And only you can make it so.

PS: V_, I love you. Happy 23rd birthday. You probably won't read this, but I hope you know how I feel. I know it's beyond impossible to get with you again, but I'd like you to know that I'll treasure the time we had together forever. I hope your life brings you happiness wherever you are. And in case you need a few laughs and some company for a drink, y'know whom to call.

PPS: Can somebody please reattach my penis for me? I'm not sure I'll be feeling this good tomorrow, and surely it's going to be grumpsville all over again.

[Note to self: Still feeling good.]

2 Comments:

sims said...

good post..i'm surprised there r no comments on it..

thinkdeep said...

thank you..