Memories......among other things, they can induce chuckles of laughter, tears of
pain and reflection of lessons taught and learnt. Either way, where-in small doses, they
drive us to be happier and wiser, in large doses, reliving those very same memories has the
power to consume. The past month of my life has been exemplified by the latter. Memories
of my family, my friends,and Mr. You
have been a constant background presence among the blur of everyday. The past
one week especially, has seen me think about Mr. You more that ever before.
The following is about him. The thing is,unlike before, this past week has seen me allow
myself to miss him. Not too much, and not for too long, but sure as hell miss him.Miss "US". More than once,in ways more than one, I have found myself thinking of our devil-may-care
friendship days. Barely friends and rarely in touch now, I sometimes wonder how
we landed up here. Which is basically nowhere.
After 4-5 days of this quagmire of why;s, why not’s and
what if’s doing random rounds in my head, i need distraction.One which preferably would bring an end to this. So i turned to the two things that have
unfailingly been my aids-in-distress and distraction since time immemorial.
Girlfriends.
And
LIQUID COURAGE.
Considering my fucked-luck, finding myself looking forward to heading towards the simultaneous mix of both of the above later
that evening, wasn’t surprising. Shoving
aside my lazy pant’s, I partied with friends, jived to the throbbing
shrieking-down-my ears music with crazy dance moves and a glass of chilled beer. As
it warped my perception, I could feel his thoughts dissipating with my every twist and every turn to the thudding music emanating from the boom-box. I laughed with friends and posed and laughed again till
I felt totally silly and inappropriate and random.
I felt like myself again. It was amazing. Liberating.
The action for distraction seemed to be working, and would have, through its entirety,
Only,
the party ended, like all parties in Bangalore do, by
11-freaking-30. End to the fun dancing, and being silly for the night. Heading back home, I went whatsapp happy, and “hey you-ed” Mr. You.Somewhere between my jumbling words and fumbling
spellings I did the ONE thing that the evening was supposed to PREVENT me from doing.
Cardiac-Outpour-Arrest
“I wish yu all the awesomeness this world has to offer
I really do.
Take care you"
The irony?
Well,what should have been a moment of “dafaq, what am I doing” was more of a …”hey-why haven’t I done this
before’ moment. I felt at ease. I felt at peace. The lifted weight, albeit a
tiny part, of the chunkload of unsaid words I had piled up, had a cooling effect
on my warm cheeks in the cold night. All this peace, when I hadn’t even begun with
the ‘things-i-want-to-say-but-wont’ thing properly.
Yeah, sure, next morning upon reading my transcript of shame, my last-nights-besotted face was replaced with
a disgusted one. Reading his coolly detached replies to my whatsapp-word-vomit kicked the “ Dafaq!! What, was I thinking" jazz right in.
Through my gut.
Sure I mumbled a
curse or two. TWO freaking months of whatsapp abstinence this is how I tear it
down. Drunk texts! knowing that it worse than drunk dialing. Drunk
texting is evidence. Incriminating evidence of embarassment!
#KILLMENOW
But deep down, the lingering feeling of peace stayed. Evidently,
last night’s liquid courage had won over my embedded inhibitions. And ,clearly,
my lowered inhibitions had whooped my elevated ego’s ass. Like MAJORLY. But somehow
the only resulting collateral damage was the feeling of relief. And it seemed, this time around, it wasnt a
sign of damage after all. It was a sign of salvage.
MY salvage.
#FeelingZen
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