I Got A New Pair Of Glasses

I can trace pretty much all my disdain towards children to the time when my cousin brother was born. I was a shy, single child of 10 and I doted on Cuz like he was my real brother. The distinction between brother and cousin brother was sharp for me because I was never close to my family. I spend hours changing his diapers, cleaning his nose, feeding him from those Gerber jars (my aunt was never quite enthusiastic about motherhood) etc. It made me happy like nothing else could.

I missed out on one vacation with him because my parents decided to take me somewhere else and when I got back what I saw broke my heart. The little boy who I had given so much affection to had forgotten me. He should an obvious preference for my other cousin sister (like the rest of my family tends to) and would cry every time someone put him in my lap. He was just a baby but I was a kid too and I resented him for his treachery.

I held onto that resentment for the next 6 years. I sent all his rakhis late, I kept phone conversations with him short, I never played with him and generally detested any sort of interaction with him.I began to hate kids in general. I couldn’t stand kids younger than 11 and treated them with acute irritability.

So when I found out that my cousins were in town and I had no choice but to entertain them, I needed all my self control to stop myself from jumping off the roof. Cuz was 6 years old now. Yay, right?

I walked up to him hug him, he wriggled out of my hold and hit me on the head with the remote control.

“I don’t like it when you come.” He told me.

“Why?” I asked.

“Because then you talk to Madi (my other cousin) and she doesn’t talk to me.”

“Whatever.”

I held his sticky muddy hand because my mom shot me a look-after-him-or-I-will-call-your-boyfriend’s-parents-and-have-a-chat-with-them look. I chased him across traffic filled roads; I rescued him from many bloodthirsty lift doors. I cleaned his nose. I bought him ice cream which he tipped over on my favourite jeans. I stood outside the men’s loo for half an hour. I let him jump up and down in my lap. I bought him 2 glasses of Sprite because his mother gave his to his younger brother. I let him play with my cell phone (!!). He still didn’t drop the brat act with me and looked at me with cold indifference.

I was exhausted, irritated and fighting off violent urges by the time we got home. I collapsed into a chair and covered my face in my hands. I had known how this was going to go. But I had still tried to turn things around and it hurt that I was still where I was 6 years back.

“Do you want to see my new toy?”

“Sure.”

I watched his new hi-fi toy do cartwheels (We NEVER had stuffed toys that did acrobatics when we were kids. Bleddy.)

He told us we needed to clap to make it continue. No one did, they had already turned their attention on the younger kid’s poop. I gathered up the last of my energy and clapped for him.

He turned his toy off.

And came and gave me the longest, tightest hug I’ve ever gotten.

Suddenly, the pain in my legs, the burning of my eyes, my wooziness in my head and my hoarse throat were all so totally worth it.

I Had A Dream (And No, I'm Not Quoting Martin Luther King, Jr.)

I had a dream that Parth and I had too much time together.

We had so much time together that it was normal for his parents to come home and see both of us just watching tv in their living room; even his dog considered me part of the family.

We had so much time together that we could afford to spend days just doing routine things like reading, listening to music or even doing homework, together.
We had so much time together that a 2 hour delay in flight didn't agitate us. They were mere 2 hours in many thousands.

We had so much time together that the way to his house was imprinted in my memory; we never needed to take a picture and say, 'Wish you were here.'

We had so much time together that whenever someone said his name, I could smell his cologne/deodorant; he always knew what to get me for my birthday because he had seen me gaze it at it longingly in the mall a million times.

We had so much time together that he not only knew all about my friends but had met them for longer than 5 minutes.

We had so much time together that he could accurately tell when I was drunk even when my best friends could swear on their mothers that I wasn't.

We had so much time togther that he never really needed to ask what I wanted to order at a bar or restaurant.
We had so much time togther that I knew exactly how he liked his bhel; he knew when I was really PMSing or just pretending for bhav.
We had so much time together that my parents recognized him and referred to him as 'Parth' and not 'that boy you keep talking to'.

We had so much time together that I didn't grumble any time that he ditched me for a cricket match.

We had so much time together that the only distance we knew was the distance between our homes; every time I wanted to hug him I had to wait 5 minutes and not 5 months.

We had so much time together that we never really needed to say 'I love you' because we could already see it in each other's eyes.

I sure as hell hope it comes true some time.

He Earned It

When you first talk to Parth, what he tells you will give you the impression that he’s that boy, the one everyone loves to hate. Infamous, as you may say. “Once you know me better you’ll hate me too, so enjoy this time” He’ll tell you. He seems quite at ease with that fact and you wonder if it’s honesty or modesty.

But when you know him like I do, it’s hard not to fall in love with his irresistible child-like charm and on other occasions, his hot, grown up aura. He becomes your bestest friend in the world with his dependability and amazing listening skills. You find yourself telling him things about your life that you didn’t even think were possible to remember. The first conversation lasts an hour and it’s the shortest in the ones to come.

When you know him like I do, he’s your biggest inspiration with his quiet, hardworking nature. You can’t be around him and not feel your ears burn up with shame for being a lazy ass underachiever. Not like he needed to boast about his accomplishments, his one day’s homework schedule is quite enough. He’ll get terribly exasperated with you if you ask him to explain a maths problem to you slowly or twice, he might even accuse of being stupid (“You’re really slow, aren’t you?”) but then when you grow sullen and quiet, he’ll soften and explain it to you with all the patience in the world.

He’ll be the only one who gets all your stupidest jokes and joins in to make it a silly, random conversation, like:
Me: Parth, do you like onions?
Parth: Yes.
Me: Are you an onion?
Parth: No.

Parth: Unless you mean I have multiple layers to my personality.
Me: No, I mean you make people cry.
Parth: Only girls na, when I reject them.
Me: And you smell putrid.
Parth: Haw!
Me: And you have dry, weedy hair.
Parth: ........

Your friends will love him and never fail to ask about him when they talk to you because they can hear the love in your voice.

When you know him like I do, you’ll get exasperated because he will point-blank refuse to share his issues with him. You fight and cry and stamp your foot for months, but he won’t give in. Finally the dust settles and you comfort yourself with the thought that maybe one day he will trust you enough to tell you. And every time he does, he makes your day.

You’ll fight a lot too. Sometimes for months at a length. More of cold wars than open ones. Even when you’re insanely upset with him, you will want to run and hide till things get better but never to break away. Every fight will bring about this paranoia in you, that maybe you’ve done something so drastic that he’ll go back into his shell and never tell you anything ever again, but life always does go back to normal.

It’s funny how we bonded over how much long distance relationships suck and commitment phobia because almost a year into a long distance relationship with him, I can’t remember ever being happier than I am now.

“You know, I don’t want to, I never have.”

“Mhmm.”

“I need someone Anne. I don’t think I could do this alone. And that someone has to be you. But you, you make me feel like I’m your burden, like I’m your punishment for doing something wrong. I can’t deal with that. Not now.”

“Of course.”

“It has to be you or I’ll do this alone.”

Anne’s entire existence wanted to run towards him and take him in her arms. Because she could think of no better way to say what she wanted to say. She wanted to hold him in her arms, push his messy hair off his face and tell him that she wasn’t going anywhere. She would see his eyes give away some of the relief he felt after seeing how much she loved him. Love made everything okay, right?

Only, she didn’t.

She stood where she was standing, 10 metres from him.

Her face didn’t show even a glimmer of what she felt.

His voice grew desperate, “So what’s it going it to be, Anne?” He looked so small and frightened.

She took a small step forward.

She stopped.

She stared at a spot on the road till it grew blurry. Her eyes began filling with tears. She was about do something no one should ever have to do.

She stepped back.

“I can’t.”

She felt her own heart break, just as she could feel his.
*******************************************************
“Anne...” He said. He knew there was no point in nursing his wounded pride and walking away. Of what use was pride in his wasted life.

She stood rooted at her spot.

He knew what it had taken her to say what she said. She had cried for hours when her servant threw a baby mouse of the balcony. He walked the distance between them. As he stood in front of her, he could see the scared little girl hidden behind the cold, hard bitch. Her eyes were swollen, her lips trembled. He could see the past few weeks had been extremely hard on her. She kept her eyes fixed on the spot on the road. He felt like he had been selfish. He couldn’t have expected her to bear his burden with him. How would she live her life with something like this? For that moment, he was a man, a man who had gotten a little more grief in life than most people did. Nothing that he couldn’t handle.

He whispered, “Oh Anne” and took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Then he stepped back and said to her astonished little face, “I won’t bother you again.”

Two months later, he died. And she never forgave herself.

Faltoo mein.

I got promoted to the next level in dance class. I really didn't want to, but my instructor said the nicest things about me. He said I had worked very hard and done excellently and absolutely deserved this.

He even made the rest clap for me.

*sniff*

He was there for my first Level 2 class and introduced me to my new instructor as "one of my best dancers". Sigh. Nothing could possibly go wrong in this world after something like that right? :D

Level 2 isn't that bad. Sure, I miss being Queen Bee and and the comforts of familiarity and it's not nice, being looked at as 'the new minion'. But hey, at least I'm a promising, new minion.

Also my one week of pure, adulterated studies started off pretty badly. I had my first exam today, psychology. I left a lot of the course because I reached saturation point earlier than scheduled and as my luck would have it, all those bits came as the four markers.

Exam 1: Sucked beyond measure.

Everyone wants to be in here.

Here being my blog, of course. And since these days I'm quite in the mood to blog so I shall comply to a few requests. Starting with one of the loves of my life.

Sanana and I became friends over the last 9 months. At first, she was just this mysterious girl who had miraculously achieved the feat of being in two places at the same time :P People could debate for days over whether she was actually in Delhi or Mumbai. The secret was of course, a boyfriend and cheap air travel (if you don't get what I'm saying, don't fret, it's an inside joke :P).

When I finally did meet her (she got tired of flitting and settled in Delhi) , she seemed too distant. I figured that she probably didn't like me, I mean I was used to people in school judging me on the basis of what they had heard about me.

But then over the summer we bonded over the tangles of our love lives, shopping, man boobs and hot dance instructors and in no time we were the bestest of friends, always together. Now, I can't even imagine life without her calling me and saying, "You know WHAAAAAAAT?!" with her voice going into super-sonics.

She's my ray of sunshine :)

Love ya, girlfriend!

Life is like that wonly

I was going through my old diaries today. Like, the oldest ones, from 8th grade or something. And I found this piece of paper I'd signed.

Sometime when I was 11, mom and I were watching some family drama on Zee Cafe. And as usual the typical teenager was throwing tantrums over some unreasonable and shamelessly retarded/dangerous/slutty thing and making life hell for his/her parents. I was grumbling and bitching about the aforementioned teenager when my mom reminded me that in a few years, I'd be no different. My eyes widened with shock. I was a very mummy-worshipping kid, only a few years ago I had stopped asking my mom for permission every time I went to the loo (okay, I stopped in the 3rd grade when she snapped at me irritably saying that she had meant I need to ask every time I go outside the house not anywhere) and the idea that one day I might might be a bratty teenager sounded preposterous. To reassure my disbelieving mother, I wrote To whomsoever it may concern (mamma), I am always going to listen to you and not argue and throw tantrums and irritate you or be like Marissa Cooper.

And signed it.

I guess there's no use arguing against nature :P

Annual Parenting Report

I thought I'd skipped my period because it was 10 days late. So I told mommy so that she could schedule an appointment for me with, yknow, the gynaecologist (I can't believe I'm BLOGGING about this!). That went pretty okay.

Later, she comes into my room and shuts the door.

She sits on my bed and looks at me seriously;

"I hope you're not pregnant?"

My jaw drops open. I try to say something like 'Are you INSANE?! Like completely OUT OF YOUR MIND?'. But 'twas in vain, my jaws wouldn't move.

She broke into a weak smile at the look on my face.

"I don't know what you and your friends keep doing. They all have boyfriends and get physical with them (only a MOM could say THAT) and you're also becoming like them. I'm barely around and I don't know what happens when I'm away..."

I was still gaping at her when 5 mins later she leaves the room after shooting me an apologetic look and sheepish smile.