It's happened to me time and again. So much so that it doesn't affect me now anymore.
So much so that the phrase 'being miserable' makes me laugh aloud.
Then Bee tells on my face. Bee is what I call Bindhu as. Because she calls me Dee. Whole day we'd keep talking like that...Dee...yes Bee...So Bee tells on my face. That I don't know how to live. And I argue. I say I am happy. Happy with my breakfast of milk, almonds and chocolate filled nougat. And we drift on to other topics.
Ya I do love my breakfast. One of the few things I love about Prague, is my breakfast. Something that doesn't get boring even after having over and again. It was a good day when I decided to buy my first packet of nougats from Interspar. I love the taste. Have taken a couple of packets from Albert...not good at all.
I tell myself. Pupu Ray, make the most of now. If you want to have a long walk...go for it. Don't stay locked up in the room. But what to do, I am scared of people. Then I tell myself, Pupu Ray, buy a bottle of liquor. It doesn't matter, get drunk. Again I am apprehensive. I don't want to...
I'd longingly look at the old couples. So much life is still left in them. Sitting in the wayside restaurants, sipping their drink. And still enjoying life. And I am alone, at the prime of my youth. And I won't even reach out.
Such small things break me down these days. Small small things make me feel terribly neglected and unwanted. Mom was supposed to get me a new gold chain. She did place the order with the goldsmith, and then didn't follow up. Every time I'd only ask her, is my chain ready? Wanted to have a long one made this time. With the ball and chain pattern. One I have probably noticed Pupe wearing in Gaaner Opare. Somehow it escaped her mind, and it's not yet ready. Yesterday when she finally told me this, and that she can't send it through bro (he's traveling back to Bangalore today) - I felt so so left out. Felt as if nobody cares for me. Even a small wish is not fulfilled. As it's my wish, it is not supposed to have any value. People can conveniently overlook.
I was inconsolable yesterday. In my mind I thought, I'd never even speak to my family once again. Yes I go to these extremes these days. I know after some time I will recover, and again become the good natured, oh ever-so-concerned girl that I am supposed to be. And everyone would forget that they are not supposed to take me for granted. I will again be treated like dirt. I know it. Still, I can't be angry on anyone. God hasn't made me like that. I can't hate anyone fully.
That is why, I say, that my misery doesn't have any importance. I do not have any importance. People can conveniently talk to me when they are free, and ignore me when they are busy. No one has ever taken the trouble to make me feel important. I know that if I am dead today, it won't matter to anyone on earth, for more than a day or two perhaps. Not even that. I don't hold a special place for anyone. I am not the world to anyone.
Still I want to live. I wish to live. May be that's a crime. I shall again wake up tomorrow, eat my breakfast happily, and pretend that I have a life. See moving ppts about people who are in grief, and think, that being unhappy is a nice way to spend my time. One who has all, can afford to crib.
Why the hell do I expect so much from life? Why not be satisfied with whatever it gives me? Why live my life looking at the empty mailbox and feeling neglected all the time. Why depend so much on others? Why should others care for me in the first place? Do I ever care about anyone? Always engrossed in my own selfish problems.
I don't even care to ask these days, if this will ever change. I know this won't. I wish I knew some way of changing my thought process. That's the only thing that can improve the situation. I am not supposed to dream. It has hurt me so many times in the past, it shall hurt me again. I don't want that. I won't dream and then everything will be alright.
He used to tell me, that he has done no mistake. He said, I blame him for nothing. He has done the practical thing. And that's why he's so happy today, so prosperous. He really hasn't done anything wrong. I had done wrong. So God never punished him. He punished me instead. Nobody ever did any wrong except me. If I don't have a life, that's entirely my fault. I shouldn't blame anybody, shouldn't envy anyone.
Finally, I don't know what got me, I wrote to him. And he wrote back. He took my name. It was so gratifying that he remembers me. But nothing more. He didn't add me to his friend list. And somehow I didn't feel like continuing the conversation. I don't have that flare anymore, of pursuing anything with passion.
It must have taken some magic to transform me so much that I could finally write the last entry. At that time too, I didn't know that it'd all end there. But now I see my mistake. And I am ashamed of my dreams. Of having dreamed in a baseless manner once again. I shouldn't have. Could have spared me the agony.
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