That feeling of drowsiness seems permanent now. And I think that I can live with it happily. Though, everything looks useless now. Useless and in colored frames. I mustn't tell this to anyone and there is no one to tell and no need to tell. They have already made this assumption that I am good for nothing worthless scorer. Yes, I am indeed but not only a worthless scorer.
I am a worthless scorer and a failure of life.
I am almost non-existent socially and worst that I don’t even want to. Everything goes straight to my feeling gland without being filtered. And here is Aniket, saying bad things about himself to himself with no one else to listen. So this is my destiny. Here with a pen and diary in my hands. yeah. This is where I would end up. That’s how things turn out to be if you are not careful enough. Life is an accident waiting to happen. One second you are singing with smile and reading poetry looking at the bright sun, another second you are on the corner of a street hoping a vehicle to crush you as bad as it can.
My father thinks differently. I don't care what he thinks or what they assume. This is just sleep I do now all the time. It feels like I am in another dimension or some other place. Every object, place or smell touching me with a neutral. Whatever I see and wherever I go this emptiness and hollowness of the environment is following me. I am not saying that this is bad in someway. This is only strange.
I didn't have anything except good marks before that accident and now it doesn’t bother me anymore. Everyone seemed like rich and enlightened before that happening and now they look like fools. Day and night is same, water and fire is same, pain and happiness, done and undone is same. Every physical or non-physical entity has simplified itself as a zero in my mind and controlling me with freedom. It is difficult to say but now the question is if I should stay like this or come out (as if it is under my hands).
But this condition is not letting me think. Too deep thinking is boring and tiresome for me these days. There is a thirst I feel on pushing my brain more than its limit. Means real thirst of water. I drink a lot sometimes. Alcohol cannot be as refreshing.
When I see someone doing hard-work it makes me spit on the floor. Everyone disgust me with their small thinking, narrow-minds and cheap expressions. What I can do when they are like this? I am happy in my universe. Hey, these words can be listened many times by people of my age. Don’t let these fool you. Happy in own universe have exactly the opposite meaning from what it says. It means that the person saying is an immovable asshole who don’t listen to nobody even if he is totally defeated and floored. Whatever I have or not have but I am satisfied atleast. Because I have no other choice, maybe. How would you feel if you are in heaven and cannot get out of there? Would it bother you? May be. I mean what if you would shit in a flower pot in front of a crowd. What if you would eat it after that? What if you would walk on a rope with closed eyes. And what if you would think that you are a king or a beggar. All the circumstances unite here.
Today I saw my father when I was smoking. He looked at me not with sadness or disappointment but with the eyes of a spectator. He is a good man. A good man in this good world. He is as useless as all the others. He wanted good scores from me. Isn’t that a comedy? But I want to give him what he wants. I am eating his food after-all. You don't bite the hands that feed you. You kiss those hands so those would keep feeding.
I wonder what this world would be like without stomachs. And without brains. I am laughing right now. Don’t know the reason. Maybe because this room is so big or too small. What if my thoughts will come out in solid form. What if everyone is wrong and only I am right. But coins don’t come out of ears. That much I know. It is writing that comforts me. Reading is more like reading another's beliefs. Writing is like telling yours.
I met a boy once who believed that drinking from a wooden cup can cause bad-luck. And he was extremely careful about not to be in touch with anything wooden during each meal. I liked his passion. And I liked that he was sticking to this misconception like a bug on cobweb. He was making it true in a way. His faith was making it true. I was so impressed with him that impression become jealousy and I told about this to all the losers of my class. They were fuckers all of them, I tell you. They made the boy eat in a wooden bowl with a wooden spoon over a wooden chair and wooden table. Everywhere was woods. It was looking like a scene from Flintstones or Tarzan. That boy told them that he wasn’t hungry. They laughed and I laughed with them. We made him finish the entire bowl of noodles. He vomited in mid-way. We laughed again. It was a nice experience. We were making him stronger. One shouldn’t live for feelings and beliefs. We were teaching him that this world only respects the flexible people who are adaptive to every situation. We were teaching him respect for seniors. Next day he brought lunch in a wooden box. I don’t know any place where one can buy a wooden lunch box. But he was passionate about everything. I liked him for that. And I was jealous. I learned something from him too. I learned that life is a suffering on both sides.
I want to like sights and people. And I want to love poems and fairs. Sports like Cricket and Football. Wish I can live this lifestyle, which I don’t like. Why I don’t like it? I want to be greedy on watching a gold chain on the road. A girl without clothes. A chicken burger with twin patties. To cry over pain and to be happy over a jokes. To be scared of dark and sleepy at night.
Instead, now I am fearless and awake. I feel like plastic in front of girls. And a gold chain makes me think about my yellow shirt. This funny nostalgia annoys me so much. I remember one thing on watching another. And both has no connection at all with each other. I think about bamboo rods on watching a cycle, I remind of my old fountain pen on listening to a particular song. Old people say that there is a reason behind everything. I want to meet them once who said this. Just once.
I am just made of particles and other stuff. And this thought is jamming my body. Blood is dirty water with cells inside. All this is filthy and mixed up in each other, getting filthier and dirtier day after day. Yeah, this is the whole philosophy of the thing called life. I don't like myself. I am loaded with this weight without my permission that I am forced to endure whole life. I didn't choose this or maybe I did. But now I know the truth. And the truth is spinning my head.
Deepak
Name – Deepak Malhotra
Age – 23
Education – B.A Honors (history major)
Occupation – Teacher
Hobby – collection of rare items
Batch of 1999 Page 8
