Too much of a good thing

It’s funny how this heartbreak thing works!
The very thing that did somersaults in her tummy every time He spoke to her, now lay spent inside her. She felt bad for herself. For not having that proverbial easy charm. For not believing in herself. For always being so insecure. For loving him unconditionally.

There was nobody she could talk to. Nothing they might say could make a difference.
He was her personal 911. He was whom she opened up to. And yet, he was the one she was scared of. She was possessive, and understandably so. Everybody seemed better than her. She feared he would look for greener pastures, after all!

Hold your breath, her fears did come true. Sometimes, knowing what will happen does not prepare you any better for it. He did go. She thought they had traded hearts. She wasn’t prepared for make-shift.

At that point, she hated the world. She despised her parents for making the pitiful being that was her. Cursed God. Lost faith in him. Felt as helpless as hopeless. Gave up on her responsibilities. He had done a good job turning her into a woebegone, broken soul. She had no more tears to cry, so she hurt herself. She substituted it with blood because something had to flow! She did not want to be this vulnerable. She tried sleeping it off, but it also bailed out on her.

And then it came. Exploded. Hate like she never had known. She hated him. And that gave her comfort. Knowing that somewhere deep, really deep, it would sting him to know she loathed him. And that assuaged her. She picked herself up, employed pretense and went about her life.

She loved him.

P.S. The story is completely fictional. The guy would have his rear end burnt if the 'she' in question was meant to resemble me. ;)

Labels: Life gyaan

Boredom is no longer the single prevalent mood now. Fuckness is back, and how!
Owing to 25 hours of Orkutting a day, newly discovered joys of blogging, cycling lessons to nieces, Khaled Hosseini, Opeth et al, my scores reflect an IQ matched only by a shoehorn. If I don’t do miraculously well in the coming test, I’ll sure as hell be kicked out of my JEE tuitions.
I think it’s anyway an inevitability, given my past records. I’ll try to break my fall with a decent score and then come back here. Excuse the sporadic comments, replies and posts. Be back on 22^nd, folks! :)

Bus rides be a very enriching experience:

You learn to appreciate people’s perspiration prowess. And curse global warming protesters for discouraging the use of deodorants. Hope the new government would make bathing thrice a day a fundamental duty. Fear your feet will become 2 dimensional from all the stamping. The optimist in you surfaces- You always see the bus half empty, never half full.

And then there are these simple joys you never uncover in an air-conditioned Honda City. Finding glee in getting a window seat, Horror at having slept through your stop. Getting off the bus while its still moving, fully knowing the ‘taley kettidiya’ that is going to follow, Relief at the arrival of a delayed bus et al.

And of course, the sporadic memorable anecdotes that come as refreshing antidotes to jaded travels (insert 'that you can tell your grandchildren' if appropriate to probability).

Like the night when some guy in an Esteem with no-fear eyes stickers glaring at you from all over the body of the car misjudged the size of his car and that of his cranial apparatus. He apparently was trying to play dashing cars and in the course, bumped into the bus I happened to travel in. Some heated words later, the drivers of both the vehicles decided to substitute it with flying fists and bleeding lips. Some curious cats stopped, some drove past uninterested. Meanwhile, even as the brawl was underway, one of the more ambitious guys from the car got into the stalled bus and told us we’re all done for unless we get the bus driver to back off. It was as close to bus-hijacking as you can get! :D

And then there are these not-so-sensible-to-tell-your-grandchildren stories.
Like one of the nights I was getting back from tuitions. 3 hours of total overhead transmission in class later, I got a seat next to a total potty-head, who seriously needed classes in English and striking conversations, apart from a life. For the sake of convenience, let’s call him Loser Dolt With Moustache (LDWM)

LDWM: So you go to college?
Me: huh?
LDWM: I go to Surana college.
Me: Kind of them to admit retards! Uh huh!
LDWM: It’s near south end circle
Me: And your head? OK.
LDWM: Which college?
Me: Err... MCC
LDWM: Cool. Coming back from tuitions?
Me: No, knitting lessons. Yes.
LDWM: You have a mobile and all ah?! My parents are not getting me one only!
Me: They’re doing lot of people a favor. It’s not mine. My brother’s.
LDWM: Umm... Don’t you get scared to travel at this time?
Me: WTF! No, I’m a girl. *sneer* :D

And now for the part I’m a pro at: Embarrassing instances.
Just a week ago, the mannered dweeb that I am, offered a seat to an apparently pregnant lady.The unsuspecting woman took it. When I didn’t get off the bus, she was confused why I gave up my seat for her in such a crowded bus. Only later did I realize why those silly women around were giggling! The lady was not pregnant. That was just adipose deposition being partial to her stomach! =/

Not to forget my ingenious (I forbid you from rolling your eyes) ways of sneaking out of trouble! Here’s one such gift of mine to bus-commuter-kind. :P

Note to P: My pass expired yesterday. So if you end up breaking your Activa from the routine falling, they wont let me take mine. We'll have to resort to above. :P