The Condensed Story Of An Apathetic Soul

Hers was a case that couldn't be helped. Apathy was what she suffered from.
When someone asked her, what she wanted to be when she grew up, she thought to herself:

"I want to be able to love. Unconditionally. To give and not want in return. To devote and commit to someone. A human. To feel a connection. To be able to touch someone and not feel awkward about it. To just, be and live and love."

She was sure of the answer until she changed it.

"A mother", she said. Then smiled.

Brief Interviews With Hideous Men

The following piece is inspired from Brief Interviews With Hideous Men
...


Q

Trust me, it's not like I do it on purpose or that I am chasing a self gratifying end of feeling a certain sense of accomplishment. I don't even know what I do is because I want it. That I want it so bad. I don't realise it while I am engaged in the process of attaining it. What I am saying is, I don't even realise I did it until I am told that I really did do it. Of course, no body can point it right out but yeah, after a little thinking, I realise I did it again. Not that it was my intention but yeah, I did do it nevertheless.

Q

Honestly, I think you can call me insecure... what the hell, I am insecure which is why I think people around me feel like they should hold me and tell me it's alright. Not that I don't appreciate it, I really do but more than that, what I really feel is satisfaction. A sense of satisfaction that comes from knowing people love me and care about me, just that, I think, I mean I am not sure but maybe it's not as pure as these words make it out to be?

Q

How? Well, I think it may be because I really enjoy it. I get high on it. I like being important but I guess more than that - more than anything else, what I really cherish is the drama. The fake concern and I doubt that they are aware of how fake it is. I mean, it really gives me the pleasure.

Basically what I am saying is, I enjoy the attention.

Q

..but I think it is probably a little more serious than that. A lot of people enjoy attention. No, wait. Everyone enjoys attention. Second rate celebrities, little girls in pink skirts, sportsmen and so on and so forth but I enjoy attention to the point of it being the only thing that concerns me. Everything I do... yeah.

Q

What pisses people off, I think ^[1], I mean this is something I gathered after an ex called me selfish, is that I am truly; most innocently unaware of my needs. The need of feeling important, that is. I mean until now of course.

Q

Yeah so now that I realise it, you would think I feel evil but really what I feel is just helpless.

Q

You know what, I'd clean up your poop with my own hands when you're sick and yeah, I wouldn't even make a face while I am it. I'd smile at you and feel great that I could take care of you because I love you but what I would really, really appreciate is not your genuine thanks or your unconditional love in return or for that matter have you clean my poop when I am sick. However what would really get to me and move me like nothing else is when you would tear up before ten people and say you love me because I care for you like no one else ever could. Yeah, I basically want them to know, not that I wiped your butt with my bare hands^[2] but that I love you more than your own mother does. That I am willing to take care of you no matter what. That I am really doing everything out sheer concern and a whole lotta love.. for you. I will take pleasure in knowing that you show me off to your friends like you would show off a vintage Chanel dress and I will love you more for not only allowing me but also acknowledging and making me out to be the one truly, madly and foolishly in love with you.
And yet, after all this one sided giving from my side, at the end of the day, it's not just your attention I want, I also crave your friend's attention and her brother's attention and yeah, you know.. him, her, him and her, her, her, him, him all possible permutations and combinations or whatever that is.

Q

I must admit something, I am willing to do anything for you to feel comfortable around me. I want you to feel like you've found a friend in me, a lover in me, a confidant. I will love it when you make me an embarrassing T-shirt that reads 'private property of so and so' and I will tell you I love it and yeah, I really do. Sometimes I will tell you I don't want to wear it but what I want of you is to make me wear it anyway. I want you to feel like you own me. Know that I am yours. I don't want to be your inspiration - fuck "inspiration". I am not here to inspire anyone. I just have this worm that gnaws at my very existence and makes me feel an almost urgent need to feel genuinely important to others. I want to be that little thing that you do everyday like it's something scared. I want to be as precious to you as a prayer and all the hope you put into it. I want to be significant for you. I want to have a superstitious value in your life. I want you be with me every second of my insignificant life and I want for others to know of it.
Yes, I will do your laundry and surprise you with breakfast in bed. I will bring you your juice when I get up to get myself some water and I will do all those little things that make you feel special. That make you feel important but what is really happening here, and you don't realise it because you're too fucking dense and think I am too much into you, which I am, I admit; is that you're serving the same need for me..
.. and before you go all judgmental on me, don't you see, we're in this together? As one? It's all pretty mutual if you ask me. I make you feel special and you make me feel.. special.

Q

Yeah, I think my ex called me selfish because she knows of my need to feel important and is aware of my knack of fetching attention and what's the word here.. inconspicuously?
By now I am sure you are taking my "condition" and my seriousness to this seemingly trivial need of seeking attention as perhaps a paraphilia. What you have done is.. your little mind which cannot understand me, has made you judge me. You think I should visit a shrink but I'll tell you, I doubt I am anything more than just normal.

Q

No, I don't want your sympathy. I want you to pity me and feel guilty for doing so because you think it hurts my pride.
While we're on the subject, I think pride is an overrated concept and its brothers ego and self esteem are much the same. One who has some, takes things to heart and lives a life of misery, generally speaking. It's not even one of those good-guys-have-it-bad kinda things. I think it's worse than that. It's true, I have conquered my pride and have none. ^[3]

Q

Sometimes it's like, after everything that we've been through together, of all the times I made you feel alright and after all the times you made me feel alright, your yeses and nos don't matter to me after all. I will just sit and stare at you and you will assume I am feeling something. Suddenly, you will start doing all the talking and then just when you think everything's gone I will say something like "I love you" which I obviously mean with all my heart, you will come crashing down into tears and you will hold me and kiss me and tell me we'll get through this and I know we will because I will in that moment do something really ordinary like wipe your tears with my favourite T-shirt and you will melt and tell all your friends at the sleepover what happened last night and how I just make everything okay by being me.
There, what you just did there, that makes me love you all the more.

Q

Yeah, I get discovered all the time. I mean people aren't foolish enough and I am transparent enough so yeah, I am discovered. People come to know of my needs but that doesn't bother me much. What does bother me however is the end and what people make out of it.

Q

Usually, even after we've been too long together to know exactly what the other wants and even after you get tired of my antics or maybe because you think I try to "impress" everyone and seek attention and we have a falling out and we stop talking, uh, you stop talking because it hurts too much to see me not care, I will make you believe that I still care and I swear by the Gods, I will only say it if I mean it which usually in those desperate moments, I do. I will tell you that I love you and I still remember what you told me one night when we were watching Sienfeld and you will tell yourself to not say something mushy and stupid but I will keep telling you how everything you ever told me still matters to me. I will tell you how I remember the night you got drunk you told me you hated me but then hugged me all throughout the night and you will tell me you remember it too and when you gather up all the courage to tell me you still love me (like a forbidden secret), I know it's a hug moment and I feel up to it and I know you are in need of a warm embrace too but uh, that's something I don't do most of the times. If I do it however, it doesn't imply you're special. It just means that I ditched the rule but I often try not to bring in such distractions when I am making a heartfelt speech. What I mean is, I will cherish everything you say and talk to you the whole night through. We will share feelings, talk about the past and everything that we were. I will trust you with my emotions and tell you that I am often unsure and I need people's approval to get me going. I will tell you how my life is what it is because I met you. I will tell you how I love my current partner a lot but we don't trust each other^[4]. I will tell you how carefree I felt when I was with you and how I still think that you're the best thing that ever happened to me and admit it, with sadness in my voice, that I will never stop having feelings for you no matter how cold you get towards me and I will say this not to comfort you because I know you feel bitter that I left you for another but because I really won't ever run out of feelings for you. I will also hold back my tears and confess that I did everything I could for you but perhaps it was not meant to be.
I will tell you everything I should and yes, I will be honest but you will not. You are too sore and your ego won't let you say any of the things that are going on in your head especially that repetitive 'I love you, please come back to me' but I understand all of that you feel so I will just look at you and try to hold onto that image of you like a photograph that you never let me take because you thought you were not good looking enough for pictures. You'll look at me too but you're strong so you will leave after it starts getting unbearable for you to know I am not yours anymore.

Q

Yeah, all that will happen. I make it happen so of course, when one of your good friends asks you "what happened to the two of you? You guys looked perfect", you'd probably just smile and say "it's gonna be hard to get over this one."


...

Back to post [1] I am not sure if they think they're being toyed with emotionally or that they are giving in to all my schemes and everything that I planned from the start but you should know that I am just mostly honest. More like utterly honest- so much so that the people I am dealing with don't have an official reason to complain.

Back to post [2]
I wouldn't mind it if you happen to mention it.

Back to post [3]
I will cry when I see you cry for a friend who lost her father but I will not do so in front of you. I will hold back my tears from falling but one of yours friends will tell you later about how I couldn't stand the sight of you in such selfless pain. Obviously, because you're you and just like me, you want attention too, you will ask me subtly if I really did tear up seeing you cry the other night and obviously, because I am me I will tell you most truthfully that yes, I did tear up and I would've cried if I were not man enough and that it was not your friend's loss but the sheer sight of you fading away in her grief that made me weak.

Back to post [4]
Here, I will have to mention how you love me a little (being humble) more than I love you and of course, knowing how you are, you'll feel bitter about it. I don't know why one would assume I am a bad person. I notice people, I know them yet I don't humiliate them and ignore everything apparent. Like in this case, I will notice how your expression changes. I mean you felt a little glad that we don't have faith in one another but your expression changed to awful when I said I was the one with the upper hand in the relationship.

How To Take A Liking To Yourself

Finish reading that one book you were sure you could never finish.

Link!

An Analytical Tale Of Two Lost Souls

Disclaimer: Shoujo in it's content, lame otherwise and in addition, quite long (boring).


The following will be a rather analytical tale of two people of the opposite sex held together by some amount of mutual attraction for quite sometime but because I am a sucker for more realistic ends, I don't plan their admiration for each other to last an eternity. Anyway, according to the given condition, we have a man and a woman in this story. I will first sketch out a little of their character traits.
So, let's start by assuming the man to be a handsome youth over six feet, rich, with a sexy body. One who's a smooth bastard, dark, mysterious and above all a subtle womanizer. Hmm, quite a personality there! Idealizing the situation is okay for starters. About the girl, let's assume she's a shorty, not over 5' 4", independent, an appealing persona in a strange way, an individual in a nerdy fashion, wears specs, is satisfied with things more or less, terribly moody and a bit overly dense. How do they meet? Well, looking at how the characters are, there is hardly any resemblance, but supposedly they are both well read people, we can consider them meeting in a mutual club about the books and all.

...
Scene 1:

[A huge building right in the midst of the fast moving city life of Mumbai. From beggars to entrepreneurs to Bollywood celebrities, everyone can be majorly described as 'busy'. Inside this building is an auditorium where the rich and sophisticated individuals from the city gather together in the pretext of discussing books. Socialites, party freaks (who apparently are jobless during daytime), wannabe businesswomen etc. can be found here on Saturdays bitching about some others who couldn't make it that particular Saturday.]

Club President: We will continue like always. Please form groups of at least five people, discuss a book belonging to the genre of romance and then anyone can volunteer to submit a book review which in turn will be published in our monthly magazine.

[women chattering]

But, before that, I would like to introduce Mr. Bhasin to you all. After his graduation from the University of London, he has now moved to Mumbai in order to take care of his business here. Please make him feel welcomed.

[Mr. Bhasin is introduced to some of the people personally and he has no problem socializing with anyone. He is made to join a group of five where he is the only man. The women seem awfully happy about it. Random pseud discussions about books and other things which they would prefer calling 'life' continues until it's time to get ready for Mumbai's much talked about night life.]

Club President: Hopefully, you all must have been done by now. By next Saturday, I want a report from each of the seven groups. Thank you all. Have a nice day.

...
Scene 2

[The pseud crowd reunites once again this Saturday.]

Club President: Thank you all for your genuine interest. I have your reports here. Everyone please continue. This week's genre is fiction. Mr. Bhasin, can I have a kind word with you?

Mr. Bhasin: Certainly.

Club President: I really appreciate your enthusiasm and active participation, but now that you're here, you should know how this works. Your writing needs polishing and it can't be published the way you have written it. But don't worry, the published review will be in your name, Sir.

Mr. Bhasin (agitated but patient enough): I see.

Club President (nervous): ... if you want we can..

Mr. Bhasin (interrupts): It's not a problem. Anyway, can I go back to my seat now?

Club President: Ah, sure.

[Mr. Bhasin's ego is hurt but that is not enough for him to lose out on his sanity. Grinding his teeth doesn't help until he notices a rather fragile looking creature hiding her face within the shade of her left arm and scribbling out something passionately in what seemed like a rather worn out diary. Mr. Bhasin is struck by curiosity and he goes to sit right next to her. She doesn't notice him much.]

Mr. Bhasin: So, you don't seem too interested.

Woman: I am writing.

Mr. Bhasin: What exactly?

Woman: A review on Pride and Prejudice.

Mr. Bhasin: But.. er, I wrote one on it. They refused.

Woman (taking off her spectacles, she looks straight into his eyes without any fear): So it's you because of whom I have to write this shit in an hour's time.

Mr. Bhasin (taken aback for a second, then a smirk spreads across his handsome face): Yeah, it's me. They call me Mr. Bhasin.

Woman (puts on her spectacles and continues to scribble): Hmm, that rich guy 'Mr. President' was talking about. Anyway, I am Tarunima.

Mr. Bhasin: First name dealing here, eh!? Well then, call me Aniket.

Woman: You can call me Miss Sharma if you want.

Mr. Bhasin: No, Tarunima is fine by me. Anyway, what are you doing!? I mean, you don't look like you belong here. Furthermore, you're a kid, midget. What is your age? Twenty?

Tarunima: ..one! I am twenty-one. I work here as a part timer. I write them reviews and get paid a little from what you rich guys 'donate'. Poseurs.

Aniket: Whoa! You sure are pissed off! But you know what's great!? I am twenty-four. We could.. you know..

Tarunima: Please spare me, Your Highness.

Aniket: Haha..

...
Scene 3

[The following Saturday two socialites 'discuss' about Mr. Bhasin and 'that' girl's growing friendship.]

Mrs. Mathur: Who is that girl anyway!? I have never noticed her in any of the parties.

Miss Verma (giggles mockingly): Not to worry Mrs. Mathur, she's just some miserable girl dreaming to find her place in this city. Heard she works here as a part timer and gets paid for writing book reviews for our magazine. Can you beat that!

Mrs. Mathur: Who knows. Girls these days are ambitious even if they come from a strong family background. And she is young and pretty to some extent. I was thinking if I could set up Aniket with my daughter Meenakshi. You think he has already fallen in for this girl!?

Miss Verma: Oh no! Be assured. Meenakshi's going to make a good pair with him. All the luck, Mrs. Mathur.

Mrs. Mathur: I hope it's as you say. Thank you.

[While these two chitter-chatter about them, they on the other hand are discussing something totally unexpected.]

Tarunima: You really suck if you don't know what Dexter's Laboratory is.

Aniket: You can't possibly expect a businessman like me to know about.. err, whose laboratory!?

Tarunima (raises her eyebrows): Dexter's.

Aniket (laughs): I was kidding, you kid. And don't freak me out with that look on your face. I have seen Dexter's Lab once.

Tarunima: ONCE!? I will make you a DVD and you have to watch it.

Aniket: Oh come on.. I am a busy man. Cartoons are for kids like you.

Tarunima: Stop going to random parties and you will have a lot of spare time for yourself.

Aniket: Leave that. I just realised I really like talking to you, so let's meet up tomorrow for a cup of coffee.

Tarunima: For a coffee!? Man, you are so disappointing! You're rich to begin with, then you can't write convincingly, you give donations to these sophisticated clubs instead of giving it to homeless kids, then, you are a businessman and now coffee! You've got it all, all that's needed of a perfect pseud.

Aniket (smirks kindly): You want to go to a dhaaba?

Tarunima: I am busy.

Aniket: When are you free?

Tarunima: Next Saturday.

Aniket: Okay.

Tarunima (amused by the reaction for a second): Okay.

...
Scene 4

[Aniket in his posh convertible arrives ten minutes early that Saturday expecting Tarunima to be a punctual soul only to realise that she is not what she might seem to be. When the meeting is about to begin, Tarunima reaches her destination in an auto and though she is late it doesn't stop her from innocently requesting the auto driver to spare her five petty bucks. Aniket who was waiting for her outside all along, rushes towards her and pushing her back into the auto sits next to her and tells the auto driver to take them to Bhau Daji Lad Museum. Tarunima is dumbstruck.]

Tarunima: What exactly do you think you're doing!? We have to go to the meeting.

Aniket: We can bunk sometimes, ya' know?

Tarunima: I am not rich. I am paid man!

Aniket: Calm down.

Tarunima: But..

Aniket: I am not taking you for coffee, so you can stop cribbing.

Tarunima (smiles): And you're in an auto too!

Aniket: See!

[The rest of the day is spent together talking about things in general. About Aniket's life in London and Tarunima's life in Mumbai. About the rich and the poor. About her decision to make her life on her own and about his decision to continue his family's business. They travel around the city and have fun. Later that night...]

Aniket: So, are you dating someone?

Tarunima: You think I have the time to!? Living through the day is exhausting enough. I don't think I need a man to add to my troubles.

Aniket: I see..

Tarunima (teasingly): What about you? I bet you have girls all over you. You do have a girlfriend, no?

Aniket: I did. There was this girl whom I loved most sincerely but things didn't turn out the way we wanted. It ended up in a disaster, haha. After that, I had many relationships. Nothing worked out because I never fell in love again... I think it's an inability of sorts. To trust someone enough to submit yourself to them completely without giving it a second thought, is not my cup of tea. I am a rich guy, I party, I get high and mostly, I have a girl to get me through the night but it's a waste. They get attached and I don't feel a thing for them. I laugh at them for even thinking of stuff beyond the bed. I walk out when some slut wishes to have what they term as a 'pillow talk' with me.

Tarunima: I see... Don't worry. You'll get a slut to get you through your life.

Aniket: I think I have found one. She isn't really a slut but I think she'll be a wild kitty in bed!

Tarunima: Really!? Then go get her!

Aniket (initially straight faced, then he lights a cigarette, takes in a puff or two and smiles): Getting her... is going to take time.

Tarunima: You can fool around until then.

Aniket (teasingly): Yeah! I am game for that. Want to sleep me off tonight, Taru!?

Tarunima: Eww, never!

Aniket (thinks): It's going to take a long long time..

[This scenario of talking about stuff continues over days and it gradually begins to take shape when it turns into a sort of addiction wherein a day without a talk or two with the other, is not a day well spent. Aniket takes out Tarunima to various of his parties and sophisticated concerts. Tarunima on the other hand makes Aniket watch Dexter's Laboratory.]

...
Scene 5

Aniket: I was thinking, are we a couple?

Tarunima: Oh hell no!

Aniket: And why not.

Tarunima: For one, we don't make out.

Aniket: Oh well, I could do that.

Tarunima: Shut up!

Aniket: No seriously. Aren't we.. umm.. you know?

Tarunima: Aniket, you suck.

Aniket (smirks): You could do that too!

Tarunima: Oh come on! And anyway, what about that girl you liked eh!? You men, change over a matter of weeks!

Aniket (straight faced): You're dumb.

Tarunima: What did you say?

Aniket: No, you're dense.

Tarunima (silent)

Aniket: Don't you get it?

Tarunima: Okay, now I do. Be mature for a change.

Aniket (irritated): Fine. In fact, it's good this way, you know. I am too dark a guy for you anyway. In addition, you don't love me. No point. You're right. In fact, you always are. Anyway, I am going back to my place now. Too much bullshit. Let's call it a day.

Tarunima (silent)

[That night, Tarunima stays up throughout contemplating over what Aniket had said. She curses herself for being so dense. It's then that she realises that the kind of characters she hated the most is what she herself is. She feels miserable thinking of all the times Aniket did stuff for her but she never even noticed. To think of it now, gave her this weird feeling in her belly. Unable to sleep, she concludes it's been far too long she pursued her search for the ideal man she always dreamt of. Aniket was full of flaws. Definitely not what she wanted. He was rich, pampered, overly ambitious and fake when it came to the various subcultures she religiously followed. He was stupid and liked to think he was dark and incapable of loving. And while she thought of all this, it suddenly struck her that this was the guy who made her overthink! She hadn't done that for ages now. The last time she probably gave something a thought was when she left Kanpur and came to Mumbai to 'make it big' without the apparent approval of her parents. She was in... for him. That richie. That pseud.]

...
Scene 6

[The next week is painfully slow for the both of them. On one hand is Aniket, who is sure there is nothing beyond this and on the other hand is Tarunima, confused as to how to make things the way they were or maybe, they way they could be or more appropriately, should be. Both dread the coming Saturday. Aniket is not eager to face her and Tarunima is nervous how to do the talking. When they both see each other the following Saturday, Aniket sits with some other group and Tarunima can't do a thing because she has to write reviews for various books.]

Mrs. Mathur: Seems like these two aren't "friends" anymore.

Miss Verma (giggles): I told you, you needn't be afraid. After all.. she was just an ordinary girl. Mr. Bhasin had a fun time like always. I wonder if she charged him too.

Mrs. Mathur (laughs): Can't blame her for it though. It's tough to survive in this city if you're not one of us.

[Aniket over hears their talk. After sometime, they call it a day because of some political rally about to take place in sometime. Everyone takes their leave.]

Tarunima: Aniket!

Aniket (turns around): Yeah?

Tarunima: Umm.. I wanted to speak to you.

Aniket: About what?

Tarunima: Well, about what happened last time.

Aniket (fakes a laugh): Haha. Don't bother. I was just trying to have my way with you. Must admit you were a tough chic to crack!

Tarunima: I know I was ..not exactly..

Aniket: Look woman, I don't have any interest in you now. I am disappointed somehow.

Tarunima: Huh?

Aniket: See, I know you're dense so I'll spell this out for your convenience, I-don't-like-you. Okay? Now, if you could spare me, I have to go somewhere.

Tarunima: Wait. You needn't put up a show. I know..

Aniket (irritably): Tch. Please leave me be.

[Leaving a dumbfounded Tarunima behind, Aniket drives off in his black Merc. That night, Tarunima though hurt couldn't help but think that it was all because the last time they spoke, she didn't react the way she should have. She just knew he cared. And knowing how emotional he was, she decides to pursue him even if he keeps this up. She tries calling him but he doesn't pay heed and if he did, he'd be as passive as she'd never known him to be. She took all the insults of him calling her a slut, a greedy bitch etc. just because in her heart she knew he needed her and what was more that she needed him much the same.]

...
Scene 7

[Tarunima awaits the arrival of Aniket the following Saturday. When Aniket shows up, she goes straight to him and says she wants to talk it all out.]

Aniket (in a bored manner): Now what?

Tarunima (determined): Let's talk.

Aniket: About?

Tarunima: I'll be straight here. Be honest and tell me, do you like me or not.

Aniket: I did.

Tarunima: And now?

Aniket: 'Did' is past tense, right?

Tarunima: Cool.

Aniket (sarcastic laugh): I love it when you try to act all nonchalant. It's funny.

Tarunima: Hmm.

Aniket: Anyway, if we're done, please allow me to proceed to the hall.

Tarunima: Wait.

Aniket (turns around): Taru..nima, I am flying back to London by the end of this month. Please, don't bother me. Okay?

Tarunima: Okay.

Aniket (after a brief pause): I have left some CD's in my car.. for you. Take it as a parting gift.

Tarunima (in a heavy voice): I don't think I will like them.... Do me a favour and tell that fucking President that I am sick today but will be back next Saturday.

Aniket (restraining himself): Okay.

Tarunima (hurt and crapped up): Do you.. hate me?

Aniket: No. It's more like ...indifference.

Tarunima (smirks): Know what? You were right. You are damaged and I wanted to fix you up.. just like I love fixing up errors in general.

Aniket: Good you're out with it. I won't blame you for saying this. Now, goodbye.

Tarunima (smiles): Yeah, bye.

[Tarunima leaves. She thought she failed miserably. And, she hated it was true. It was her ego playing all along after all. It was just as he had once said to her, ''..you don't 'love' me, you just 'need' me...'' and, he was right. Only thing being, it was a condition sufficient for her to submit herself to him.]

...



Note: I hope this is came along as realistic as possible. And anyway, romance is an idealistic idea to begin with. Where sci-fi fails, romance excels cause exaggeration and out worldly things find it's place with or without reasons.

Bejin's Top Five (Part 2)

Classroom disasters:


5. When the teacher is over sixty years old.

Teacher: Now who will tell me something about the structure of allylic halides?
Bejin: *hides inside her book*
Teacher: You! The one whose trying to hide there.
Bejin: *nervous smile* *looks around hoping someone would prompt* *gives up* I ..don't know..
Teacher: It's a shame!
Bejin: *in a moment of random revelation* The halogen atom in allylic halides is bonded to an sp³ hybridised carbon atom.
Teacher: *taken aback for a millionth of a second* Make sure you know the answer without peeping through your notes next time.
Bejin: Damn!



4. When the Teacher wants your home-work register:

Teacher: Have you done your home-work?
Bejin: No.
Teacher: Why so?
Bejin: I am dyslexic.
Teacher: I would've believed you only if I didn't see you at the show of Taare Zameen Par yesterday.
Bejin: Oh.



3. When there are two Art Teachers with their own creative (and gender) differences.

Male Teacher: I don't like how you've used a mustard here. A red would've highlighted the white spot more.
Female Teacher: No, I think it's absolutely fine, Sir. Look how the mustard smudges around the white spot and gives it a surreal touch.
Male Teacher: I get your point but ma'am it looks shabby.
Female Teacher: What do you mean by shabby!? It looks good. More like how the background mixes into the spots of white creating a...
Bejin: Psychedelic!
Female Teacher: Yeah! A psychedelic.. feel.
Male Teacher: It hardly looks psy..
Bejin: Psychedelic!
Male Teacher: Yeah. That.
Bejin: Teachers, we're gonna get it printed again this year.
Female Teacher: Well, that's there. How about a coffee, Sir?
Male Teacher: Sure!
Bejin: WTF!



2. On Teachers' Day

Bejin: Happy Teachers' Day, ma'am. I made you a card.
Teacher: Thank you, Bejin. Never thought you could come up with something so heart warming.
Bejin: Don't blame me. I was forced to!
Teacher: I need to meet your parents now.
Bejin: What did I do now!?



1. When the Physics class is a humdrum affair:

Maria: *yells out* Oh FUCK!
Bejin: HaHa. You fucker! You just said a fuck in the fucking Physics class in front of that fucking Physics lady!

*everyone stares*

Teacher: Both of you, to the Principle's office. Right now.
Bejin: It won't hurt any worse this time..
Both: Aww, fuck!

Bejin's Top Five (Part 1)

Encounters with the opposite pole:

5. When the guy is very normal:

He: Hey!
Me: Yo!
He: Heard Metallica's new album?
Me: Nope.
He: You should kill yourself.
Me: Really? I heard they sucked.
He: Well, even then! It's a cult, you tiny little bitch!
Me: Cool. Pass on the album to me tomorrow.
He: I have it in my computer. Downloaded it from the torrents.
Me: Make me a DVD.
He: Huh?
Me: By tomorrow.
He: We've got Maths home-work due tomorrow.
Me: I'll do that. You get me the disk.
He: Okay!

*a wicked smirk spreads across Bejin's stoic face*

Next Day:

Me: My disk?
He: Here.
Me: Thanks. Sayonara!
He: HEY WAIT! I need to copy the Maths home-work.
Me: Like you'd do it.
He: Yeah, I will..
Me: *nervous smile* Hehe, I thought you wouldn't, so..
He: WHAT!

*Bejin escapes slyly while the guy curses his foolishness*


4. When the guy is a total gentleman:

He: Senorita, your eyes are like the shimmering waters in the night sky.
Me: Huh?
He: Your eyes.. they are like the shimmering waters in the night sky.
Me: *irritated* *looks away* So, what else?
He: Your hair are like an artist's canvas with a brilliant black background.
Me: With a twisted and abstract face in the middle?
He: HaHa. My beautiful, you're funny.
Me: Really!? *happy*
He: Your lips are like...
Me: Oh shut up you fag! Tell me the crucial. You think I am funny?
He: Well, yeah.. I guess.
Me: Hah! I knew Maria was just jealous of my humor and sensibilities. Thanks sucker!

*Bejin leaves*


3. When the guy is a nerd:

Me: Give me your home-work register.
He: No.
Me: Dude, we have to submit it after the lunch break.
He: What would I get in return?
Me: Umm, I'll let you live for today..
He: *delighted* Okay!


2. When the guy is in love:

He: I.. I.. I had to uh...
Me: I got it. Say no further.
He: Really.
Me: Yeah.

*runs off at a speed of 299,792,458 m/sec*


1. When the guy is an otaku:

Me: Man, Samurai Champloo is just kick-ass!
He: Oh screw that, Afro Samurai is better!
Me: Wanna bet?
He: Oh sure!

*both take out their cardboard katana and start jumping around here and there creating weird sounds *
*suddenly it's all silent, everyone looks as to what the fuck is going around*
*they stand at a distance from each other and stare straight into the eye of the other*

Me: HaHa, I know you're fast but take the last few breaths while I smoke off this weed.
He: Thanks for the wonderful proposal but I might as well kill you while you're at that thing.

Both: HAAYII-YAAH!

*they rush towards each other with their cardboard katana*
*everyone stares in complete silence*
*brief pause*

Me: Dude! You have to fall down. I just killed you.
He: WTF! You're the one whose dead.
Me: Na-uh!
He: Oh yes.
Me: No!
He: YES!

*Bejin stamps on his foot and runs off*

Me: Yay! I win, loser.
He: Curse you little, witch!

It So Happened..

They entered my room and tried to get me out of my bed in the hopes of seeing a whacked out me. I lay lazily still, looked at them with weary eyes, yawned some then went back to reading a particular piece of literary shit I had in hand that time. For some reason, they seemed irritated, as if they didn't know me at all. Maybe the irritation was the result of them knowing me so very well. I don't know.
My ignoring them led them to getting scattered in different parts of my room. While Freddy was looking for a good read, Hally checked out her new outfit, which she bought on her way back home, yesterday. It's amusing to see how excited she was about a stupid dress.
.
.
.
Okay, damn! No matter how indifferent and cool I try to act, that black dress sure as hell caught my eye. Anyway, moving on, 'Man' (as we call him, contrary to his physique), sat next to me and asked me to get up and get ready for the "ride of my life". I showed no interest whatsoever, which kinda made him, umm.. anxious? Maybe. As it is I am bad with my expression skills. Not that it bothers me, or just maybe.. it does.
So then anyway, Hally shot up suddenly and said: "How about we plan a meeting with Fyodor and make these two talk it out!? That will set her spirits just as we want!"

For some reason, it didn't bother me at all but I think Freddy passed a subtle glare at Hally cause she suddenly cooled down just as she shot up. Man on the other hand was thinking. About what.. I am clueless. I think it was those burgers we had just before Fyodor and I had that huge argument but then again, maybe not.

It's been three weeks since I last spoke to Fyodor, I wonder what he must be doing. I know! It must be his little turtle he must be playing with. Oh I am so sure! With Fyodor, things are constant. He's too typical to be mistaken. 'Predictable' would be the word, I guess... (!?)

And haha, while I gave stuff a thought, I guess it was Freddy who was smirking and Man who suddenly exclaimed "Get up woman! You're not even reading that damned shit." It was then that I think I smiled after quite a while. Not that I am some emo sucker but because I am too lazy to smile back. No, honestly! Hally was kinda relieved seeing me smile. Okay, who am I trying to fool this once, it's just her dress she's in love with currently.

So then anyway, the guys moved out of my room and Hally stayed back. Freddy's got some neat choice when it comes to books, contrary to his dressing sensibilities. He picked up Love in the Time of Cholera, which is kinda new, cause Freddy is hardly the sentimental types. He's more into umm.. let's say Hitler and the Nazis.
So whatever, I kinda got dressed up for a bit. Now, don't get ideas, it was just a black Nirvana T-shirt with my normal blue jeans. But I was kinda conscious cause Hally wore this umm.. sexy (!?) halter neck blouse with a cute little blue skirt. Well, so we all went out of my place, got into a cab and went to this new bar which went by the flashy name of The Zeitgiests, and for wannabe intellectual suckers like us, it was the place to get as hell drunk or.. maybe not!
Freddy kinda seemed a little more serious than the usual, because he ordered coke with chicken strips instead of beer with chicken legs. I wonder what's wrong with these guys.. except that Man is still the dumb old him and Hally.. well, the same old fancy dress woman and hence, basically it was only Freddy who was so very... umm, no, a little weird that day. Except that I get what's bothering him and I don't like what it is but who'd tell him about it all.. not me, for sure.

That day went by casually. We were sipping our cokes, fighting over the last piece of the chicken strip and well, talking... about random dreams, some new alternative rock band which Man hated, chicken strips, beer and life in general. It was then that Freddy suddenly spoke of Fyodor, and it was just then that I realised, that it didn't bother me. At all. I suddenly got trapped in this void of introspection and realised that nothing and none meant anything to me as such. It was all so trivial.. Hally, Freddy, Man, Fyodor, my parents, my neighbour, his cat and her blue bell. All of it, all of them.. I wonder what caused me to make up for such a brilliant stone.

So while I thought of the various possibilities of why I turned into a stoic, I felt a hand touch my right shoulder. It was Man. I think he wanted to console me or something. Suddenly, Freddy stepped forward and just hugged me. It was weird to be honest. He has never been that way. Never! I just patted his back. That's my way to tell people off, but Freddy.. he just hugged me, even tighter and even so I didn't feel "warm" as they describe it in shoujo manga.

I said: Freddy, it's alright.
He said: No, it's not.
I said: Okay.. but what exactly are we talking about!?
He said: About you and... Fyodor and..
I said: Fyodor? And...!?
He said: Me.
I said: What about you?

He then pushed me back and I think his eyes were moist or just maybe... it was the disco lights.

He said: You don't have to act in front of us.

Hally and Man just looked as him in great amusement. If I weren't this lazy, I would've laughed back then.

I said: Dude, got fever or something!?
He said: Let's just drop this, okay?
I said: Cool.
He said: FINE!

And just like that he was gone. Just like Fyodor.
Man went after him while Hally stood next to me.

I said: What was that again!?
Hally said: I.. have no clue.
I said: It's cool.

While we spoke of having no clue and being scandalised by Freddy's new avtaar, Man came in panting and said "I'll drop you at Hally's place tonight. Okay by you?" and I said "cool".

That night, while Hally showed me more of her dresses and nail paints and jewelery, I noticed, that no matter how indifferent I am towards my friends, they are the ones I most think about. In moments of introspection, they are my experimental guineas.
I suddenly felt the urge to call both the eff dudes and make up with them but not knowing how to go about it made me all weary and I ended up just sleeping, like any other day. I think, it's my cave to hide in, my way to give in, my way to resent, repent and give way...


..Or, maybe not!


PS: My longest post so far.
PPS: Say "ooh shaa!" XD

The Catch Of My Eye

Caution: The following piece of writing is a story about love and could perhaps be interpreted as girlie.



I admit. I was once in love with a guy.
He was the kinds who'd interpret this world as a dark and rotten place to live in. He despised the system but never really bothered to make a difference. He lacked passion. And though he could smell through people's motives, he was a confused bastard who couldn't really differentiate the good from the evil. Fucker, was a failure at academics but somehow always managed to pass English.
*smirks*


Haha, there was this one time when got expelled from his school. Not that he resented it one bit. In fact, he wanted seclusion and got it too! Somehow he didn't wish to go home like most of us would. And it's just my guess but I think he was just running away.. trying to ignore the dead ends he would have to face some day.
*sigh*

And damn what a brat he was.. stubborn and annoying! Retard, left school because he had a fight with his roommate and desperately wanted a break. Man, he had one helluva adventurous time cause the same night he visited a prostitute! But the loser said he wanted to talk to her instead of having sex. I mean what a kid! The bitch asked him for more money and when he refused, he ended up being bashed up thoroughly by her pimp instead!
Poor kid tried to act all brave and matured but I think he was afraid of growing up. I presume he disliked change. And even though he was naive at times I know he was a matured and sensible guy who could reason out well.
Such stark and ironic contrasts to him only added to his subtle charm. What I mean is, I kinda found him cute.

I don't know, man but I guess I was just helplessly falling in for him or something. His brand of honesty is kinda rare these days, ya know. Like for example, he wasn't particularly a caring person but he sure did like his little sister who I think was his only comfort in some regards. And hell, it makes me want to laugh out loud to think the brat thought of his English teacher and confidant as a pervert making sexual advances on him! On second thoughts.. who knows.. I mean the world is kinda unpredictable after all.
*rolls her eyes*
*pauses*
*let's out an inaudible sigh and continues*
This lonely and cynical guy seemed tired from day to day living, and from what I remember of him, I think he thought of himself, or let's say he knew himself to be a loser. I don't remember him admitting it though.
Silly kid, imagined himself as the protector of kids playing in the rye fields.


He is my male equivalent. Holden Caulfied, the catcher in the rye was the catch of my eye.
And even today, reading the shit I wrote, would probably make him go all, "phoney attention seeking bitch" but I don't give a fuck for all I know is that I would just stare at his back as he would walk away after saying those cruel words, trying hard to catch the fleeting glimpse of that image so that it resides in my heart forever.

*sighs*
I was merely lying when I said I was in love.
*mumbles inaudibly*
I guess, I still am.


NOTE: The above mentioned crap is written just to shut up some people [especially, Devika Misra] who think I have lost touch.