My masterpiece :)

Words I have learnt from him - funny things like throwback and friendzone. However much predictable and "like everyone else" he might be, he's given me new things. I am this girl who's inquisitive by nature. I am not biased, usually, and I don't get influenced easily. But I strongly discriminate between my likes and dislikes. Suppose I like someone, I don't really like the second one and I am neutral to the third. I will read a book recommended by the first and the third, but would wait for other reviews before I go for a book recommended by the second.

There's quora to begin with. Nah, he didn't introduce me to quora. I came across quora while researching dress materials for tropical areas (yeah, having lived in a plateau most of my adult life, the heat and humidity of a tropical city near the sea is torturous). But he definitely encouraged me to write my first answer on quora. No, it didn't go viral, in fact it didn't receive a single upvote...(I am not even sure how this upvote thingy works on quora). In fact I doubt if he has even read my answer. But that's one thing to begin with.

Then there was my second chess win against the CPU. The first time I won, I was extremely bewildered. I got very attacking and switched off the tutor. Day before yesterday when I won for the second time I was very very angry with him. Here he calls himself honest, and yet he freaks out at honesty. I was attacking again. No tutor, once more. I know how to do things on my own. And in no time the CPU gave up. No, I don't love playing chess. But when I win I kinda like that feeling of winning. I take screenshots and feel happy.

The last thing on the list would be (because we won't talk about poetries and neither would we bring in football - which I genuinely feel is that crazy game where 20 people run behind a ball) - how I met your mother. Now, see, I don't like television. I belong to a different era. It's not that I don't watch serials - I used to watch the old Doordarshan serials, both Hindi and Bengali. There was a time when I religiously watched Shaktiman and Om Namah Shivay. I was a mere school going teenager then. Afterwards came Tum Bin Jaoon Kahaan - till the storyline took impossible turns, এক আকাশের নীচে and finally গানের ওপারে...but no, I was never addicted to television series. I did watch 24 - the first season, but when I missed the second season I didn't feel too bad. And Friends? Hello, I hate that false laughter coming from the background. I can laugh without being prompted, thank you very much. But then, this name itself is romance personified, no? So I was kinda "God help me" but not really surprised when I found myself reading up the wiki entry on how I met...Pathetic? I couldn't agree more :( I have often found myself engrossed romantically in thinking about how we met. Do you ever realize, when you meet your person for the first time, about what you are going to experience?

The other day he came to office. We were casually discussing things. I said I have no idea what I would be doing next. "You'd be writing a travel blog...", he prompted. I was surprised. I slowly asked him, "you mean to say that you are suggesting an alternate career for me?" I knew what was going on in the back of his mind. He just wanted to know whether I like traveling (because he doesn't). I assured him that I am also not very fond of traveling, it mostly happened as part of my job, but yes, I enjoyed whatever little I traveled. He once had a strange status, "I don't want to go to any of those 10 counties". Well, I have been to exactly 10 countries incidentally. Nowadays? He dreams. He feels that's the only right thing to do. As if I do anything else. Told you he's my reflection...

I feel strange at times. This was not supposed to be life. I had my own set of tastes and preferences. Beautiful cars, Van Gogh pictures, Algebra books. O Henry stories. Yes, curious choices for a girl, but I had my own world once. Nowadays my world means waiting for the next tragedy to strike, and dreaming these impossible dreams to keep myself aloof during the time in between. I am afraid of posting this entry. There's too much information on him. What if he reads? Huh, my best friend (the lady) doesn't ever care to read it. And I expect he'd ever find time. I know a dream is just a dream. He just keeps me going - not exactly he, আমি আপন মনের মাধুরী মিশায়ে তোমারে করেছি রচনা।

I don't tell anybody, but these days I am too scared of an imminent death. Not only that my body is showing signs of decay, my life itself seems quite directionless. Not that I want to die. But when did I want any of these? Shall I ever create a masterpiece before I am called away? Or will I just stay addicted, in order to ease my pain, while I am here? Which interpretation of my love story would survive?