Of high school crushes and all

courtesy: fuzzydave.deviantart.com

The following situation is just an example of what might arise when you are completely sleep deprived, wide awake past 12 in the night, texting and/or calling peoples who can make you see sanity but they decide to pretend to be busy and not reply and you lose your sense and do something extremely stupid. Well, in my case, it was a result of the above mentioned and the fact that a high school crush lasted like 5 years. The conversation should be understood to have happened between 3 (or more people). For general understanding, I’ll name them as follows: Usual-Self (or US) - the self who you will normally encounter when you talk with or meet me. Subconscious-Self (or SS) - the self within that talks sense into me in all sorts of situations, that valiantly argues against the US and is never afraid to lay forward blunt truths as arguments and also, sadly, loses to the US most of the time, its voice going unheard. DY (or DY only - cannot say name, go) is the forlorn high school crush that my heart so willingly harboured for the past 5 years – it deserves appreciation considering the fact that it never let go of this DY in spite of the fact that it found other souls it thought were worthy enough to invest love and emotions in. ‘How silly?’ are you thinking? Tell me about it. Keeping all this in mind and hopefully some pity for the wrecked soul that narrates this story, you may proceed to read further.

So I lie wide awake at about 12:30 in the night, exhausted from waiting for replies for the text messages I had sent to a couple of people who usually succeed in putting my drifting mind to ease. I resort to throwing tomatoes, rotten tomatoes and even broken flower pots I found on the terrace to this one fellow who I desperately wanted to talk to (read: Snowman) and he still maintains his silence extraordinaire. Now the mind starts playing silly games on me and the US temporarily convinces the SS that sending a text message to DY was a brilliant idea. Barely leaving any time for the SS to comprehend what was happening, the text message is sent.

Me (US): Hey, hi. Reply, no? (SS: Great conversation starter.)

DY: Who is this?

Me (US): Schoolmate of yours. Never really got to talking with you at school. Gathered courage (SS: Gathered WHAT? YOU’RE NOT TYPING THAT!) and wished you on your birthday.  You didn’t even reply. (SS: Seriously, why would he reply to a message from an unknown number?)

DY: My mobile wasn’t working properly that time… Who is this? (SS: *smirks* He’s just being nice.)

Me (US): XYZ. From XII Section X. (SS: What are you? Like 14?)

DY:  Oh… Hey wassup?

Me (US): Umm. Sky. Enamo no stars today. Sorry, eh. Hate that question. (SS:WHO ARE YOU KIDDING? How much does it take to talk normal to this guy? You’re talking for the first time!)

DY: Where are you now?

Me (US): Motta maadi (terrace). Home. Chennai.

DY: Nice... But I meant in general which college and stuff... (SS: God! What must the guy think of you now!)

Me (US): Oh. Sorry. Just finished my Blahblahblah at Blah College. Currently applying for Blahblahblahblahblahblah. (SS: And he’s recruiting you for a job.)

DY: Oh... finished graduation! Congrats

Me (US): Thanks. :) How’s life at the premier institute? Interning somewhere now?

DY: Yup... Interning at BLAH...

Me (US): Cool. No idea how I got the courage to text you again. (SS: There you go again!)

DY: Why does someone require courage to text me?

Me (US): Someone, I don’t know. I do. Not sure why though. :S Took me like what… 3 years to decide to ask someone for your number and actually text. (SS: Honest and all okay, but you’re freaking the guy out!)

DY: Oh where did you get my number from?

Me (US): Make a guess. Not very difficult.

DY: ABC?

Me (US): Haha. No. Snowman. And you know ABC? (SS: Why DID he guess that?)

DY: Yeah there's a guy in my hostel who is also in the team he told that ABC asked my number... That’s why...

Me (US): Mayor. Mental Mayor, is it?

DY: Yup... (SS: Now remember to throw a flowerpot at that guy the next time you see him at the insti!)

DY: So which college you applying? When? (SS: Thank God you didn’t have to dig for some explanation there.)

Me (US): Got selected at BLAHEST today. Waiting for my interview call from OkayPlace. AnotherOkayPlace also.

DY: Did you see this movie QASDFR?

Me (US): Not yet. Did you? Is it any good? (SS: Thank your stars now that the guy is actually trying to pull a convo out of this phail situation.)

DY: Am sitting in the theatre and bored like crazy... :( (SS: SUCH.A.BULB. Now you know why the guy is texting you.)

Me (US): Haha! And you’re texting me? Are you serious? :D (SS: Now go ahead and make the obvious explicit.)

DY: There is nothing good in the movie... Anyways why did you give me a chocolate on the last day and all that?

Me (US & SS): *heart skips several beats* (to self) He still remembers that?! *tears of joy*

Me (US): Lol. You’re finally asking this after 3 years. :P It was a dare. Was supposed to be. You calmly said ‘Thank you’ & left. Barely dare material. :P

DY: Lol... All I cared for then was the chocolate... :D

Me (US): Even when it came from a girl you’d never even said hi to? :P

DY: You said friends and offered the chocolate so I took it and said okay... I seriously thought you would try to speak some time later… (SS: You can go shoot yourself in the head & then hang yourself up. YOU did not remember that bit? The ‘friends?’ bit? And he all along expected you to speak up? DIE!)

Me (US): Damn. Back then, you were this intriguing guy dribbling a tennis ball & singing to himself in the corridor all the time. And a very brainy one at that. Honestly, I wasn’t sure if you knew me in the first place & I really didn’t think you’d remember. (SS: I can’t agree more.)

DY: Those were real nice times... I knew you of course... There were very few girls in school anyways... :P (SS: And you thought while reading the first half of the message that he was being nice.)

Me (US): Not entirely true. :P (SS: Yeah, right. Try and save your own grace.) I used to think you were mad in a nice way. :D

(after what seems like an eternity of silence) Err. Did I say something wrong?

DY: Lol... Was driving back home that’s why no reply... Not your fault if you thought I was mad

Me (US): Mad in a nice way only. (SS: *facepalm*) You’re at City1 or City2 now?

DY: Ciy1 in my friend’s house now...

Me (US): Ah. How’s the intern going?

DY: Intern not very awesome but is okay

Me (US): Nice. It just struck me. (SS: YEAH, RIGHT! :D) You did see me at the canteen the other day la? If you knew me, why not come over and say hi? (SS: God knows how long you’ve been dying to ask him this! :D)

DY: You were with someone right?

Me (US): Umm. Shd’ve been ABC or Snowman. I’m with either of them. Lol. That’s why?

DY: If it was Snowman I would have come... I don't know ABC at all... That's why...

Me (US): Ooh. Okay, okay. How come you’re up this late? Office iliya tomorrow?

DY: Tomorrow Saturday... We no work on weekends... :P

Me (US): That should make your intern awesome enough. :P

DY: But generally work is from 9 to 6:30 and its so far away... :( (SS: DO NOT IMAGINE A PUPPY DOG FACE and go ‘Aww’ at that smiley he just sent!)

Me (US): Aiyo. That is one taxing field, no? You’ve got <insert keyword> work ah?

DY: For one week I had... But they can't provide accommodation hence no more site work... :)

Me (US): Haha. Lucky you. So. What other interests apart from football and sport-crush-is-supposedly-good-at? (SS: Definitely 14. And now he knows you stalk him.)

DY: Nothing much... Used to play hockey too but now became too injury prone so even not playing much of football...

Me (US): Hmm. Heard from OneGuy that you guys used to have some sort of HP fan group or something at school… :) (SS: God, please let Snowman be wrong for once and PLEASE let this guy be a HP fan!)

DY: Not me... Me was never a big fan of Harry and also they did that in 11th and I was in Batch-something-else at that time... I still remember you singing ‘Vellai Pookkal’... That was the first time I ever heard that song... Would you believe? (after prolonged silence from my side) Slept?

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Yes. I did fall asleep and I’m sure you’d know how stupid I felt about myself when I woke up and found that this was the message I’d got when I had dozed off. Let’s say, both the US and the SS unanimously declared that I was stupid but also agreed that this guy sure did remember quite a bit about me and maybe I deserved a pat on the back. I should also mention that the SS promptly reminded me that DY had also mentioned about there being very few girls at school. US vehemently disapproved of this idea being the reason behind why DY did remember quite a bit about me. You do too, right? Now, if you also share an equally embarrassing episode in your life, you are welcome to share it and make the author feel good about herself or at least make her feel like she has company here. If you’re laughing reading this like my noble friend Snowman did after he heard but half the story on phone, you are welcome to shoo away because I am going to go dig a hole in the ground and bury my head in it. I hereby hold Snowman solely responsible for this disastrous night of my life and whatsoever the consequences it holds in the future. Now, GO.

P.s: Dearest, Snowman. After you’re done reading this and laughing your ass of all over again or even distributing printed pamphlets of this story to all the people you know and forcing me to think if I should probably dig a life-sized pit in the ground to bury myself alive, go be of some use in life, call up that guy and find out how much of a phail he thought this was.

(Somehow this little bit of innocence stuck through the growing-up years. Just this case where for once I saw myself fret and worry over talking to someone. There would’ve definitely been some point where I would’ve written about this. I just thought, ‘Why not now?’ DY was/is a nice guy. I hope we turn out to be good friends.)

Memories.

Are they good or are they bad?
The answers are always inconclusive.

First things first. This is the page that will never see the light of the day. A page just for me to write, for me to keep to myself. Emotions and incidents that no other soul should ever know or hear. Or will ever be able to relate to. Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn't matter.

I can remember or relive all those relationships like it was just yesterday. The first seems to be the silliest now. I don't seem to understand it at all. Immature. And whatever kept it alive for even that long in the first place. But it had its magical moments of innocence. The fire-flies. Swimming coaching classes and the long walks back. The birthdays. Cake. Tuck shop. Stik pencils. Cards. Key-chains. The pink liquid key-chain. :) Time only seemed to take the innocence away. And with that, it had to fade away and die.

 Sippy. A few months - of lies, of false promises, of cheerful talks, of fake talk that I never figured out, of smiles and support and not a single day that I remember crying because of him. The 2 minute morning calls. Jogging. Good morning. The b/w picture he first gave me. The endless pictures that followed. The long chats. Emoticons. Weird English. Jaane Tu Ya Jaane Na. The day he met that accident, how he came on Yahoo to show his wounds and reassure me that he is recovering. Where did it go wrong, then?

It hurt the most. A year of denial and several months more of getting over it and I still know that deep inside somewhere, I love him for everything he gave me in life. For how single-handedly he taught me to be strong. For helping me overcome what was once my biggest weakness. Of how very close it was to the happiest ending and how everything just crashed without a warning.

Vikram. A guy I never really will understand. A guy I don't want to understand. Did he do me good? Or was he just playing around? He did seem genuine; spending all that time and quite some money on me though I genuinely hated the latter part. The 5 rupees that I would save just to make a call and hear him say 'Hello.' :) The time I'd spend loafing around the hall to pick up the call on the first few rings, the songs, the smiles, the stories, the adventures. And how it had to end so gruesomely.

At times I think Sippy went off because I started speaking with Vikram. Maybe he needed a girl who would give a damn to any other guy and worship only him - which I did do. Sippy this. Sippy that. His phone. His voice. His bike which turned out to be a lie, his house which was another lie. Surface Chemistry. :) My eyes still cloud when I see kids talking about that chapter and I ask all of them to learn the 'Zeolites' question. If I made any attempts to study that subject.. Sippy. Why did you have to go away? And make me cry? And lose hope in everything? And teach me lessons in the impossible-est way? The long evenings I would spend crying and conclude strongly that you were in a spot and you'd come back. You would come back.

Prashanth. Asshole. Why on earth did I have to meet you or get involved with you? Why did you have to respond to that story and push me to talk with you and .. everything? Why did you have to care if Sippy ever got to kiss me or not? Why not just leave me in peace? Telling your friends shit about me, making up stories of us dating.  Dude. Seriously. Was I a game all along or did we really have a moment in there that you chose to overlook? All those endless nights when I slept alone and kept hearing echoes of your voice saying 'Baby, listen!' with the pause and stress on the ‘listen.’ It still gives me the shivers when someone says or types that.

Were all those ‘love you’s fake? Every single one of them? Or were you simply scared of falling in love? That four line gothic girl poem. The rest of your blog posts that sent me in a state of shock and the realization later that it had nothing to with me. That long, long mail, the last mail I ever sent you. I froze when I read that mail after typing it. I am sure you did too. And you refused to send it back to me. I’d deleted it. I needed a copy. I had mentioned about always loving you whether you chose to return the same or not, didn't I? I kept it. I still do.

We can never really be 'just friends' with the people we used to be in a relationship with. Or, hate them completely. We continue to love them; just that other things gain attention and keep the pain in a subsided level.

When I think about all of this or any one section of those days, it feels as though a part of me arises from within, a soul or some shit like that, a different layer that transcends and still finds the capacity to have those same emotions to those very same persons.

I hope all of you are doing good. It is a girl's dream to have the guy back, even if it is for just a moment to say that he misses her and is sorry to have lost her. But in a way, it is only but fitting that you have beautiful lives. For all that you gave me.

Memories and lessons.

-         and my unspoken word will fade away, safe buried among the secrets of yesterday -

-        Just Someone

[Photo Courtesy: LittleBlackUmbrella, Deviantart]

This is what memories are made of.

Many a soul skips by these quiet spaces nonchalantly, never a pause in the mind. Cruel time flies by; us - busy lavishing emotions on lands and faces beyond this timeless wrap.

And the silent halls will continue to deeply echo our silly fights and meaningless laughter, long after we are gone.

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Dedicated: Ethiraj College for Women

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.“Don’t worry about the election loss. The department will welcome you with open arms as its association secretary,” was the consolation a majority of people chose to give. And sure as hell, when college reopened, it happened. Apart from my senior batch missing in their class and absence of the persistent sound of familiar voices that always hung about in the air, nothing much seemed odd for a few days – until the freshers came along.

It only then dawned that I had to be there seat them in the auditorium for the first time for the orientation ordeal and I also had to take them around for the ‘college tour’ which in reality translated to showing them the way to the department and their classes, and whatever happens to be standing on the way. It felt very strange the way we had to tell them about rules like ‘mobile phones strictly not allowed,’ ‘Wellington plaza, Kanchi hotel and Spencers strictly out of bounds for Ethirajians.’ I had to suppress a chuckle by pulling on a straight face which very easily gave away the moment I met Shailee’s gaze across the room. 

After several attempts at trying to explain about ‘Aarambh’ and ‘Maithri’ and ‘Srishti’ and ‘Scrambler’ and several other details at once to them, we decided it was time we let them eat their snack in peace. Five minutes later, we were goading the enthusiastic bunch towards the auditorium, weaving our own versions of the history of the library, the hostels, the canteen and I even caught a friend raving about the how ‘special’ the soil around the basketball court was. 

Finally, after the first years from all the departments settled down, the cultural events by various college teams began. Harini finished the classical dance rendition. The college light music team came on stage next. They did their usual ‘Docomo’ tune sound check and the auditorium was roaring with cheers. A tiny lump formed in my throat. Indu then takes the mike and says that the next song they were going to render was very special to both the team and the college itself and right after that, my memory blurred and I was transported to a different time. ‘… this is definitely our second college song,’ the girl on stage says as the team breaks into ‘Aathangara marame…’ which had us screaming at the top of our lungs. Right after that followed ‘Please sir’ from boys performed as an acapella. I was trying to figure out which voice related to whose face and after a few moments, I just decided to close my eyes and listen to the entire rendition. I had goose bumps when the performance ended. ‘This is team Swasthik. We had Gayathri on the lead, Swathy on the vocals and the base guitar, Archana on the keys and this is Shruti,’ she said to another huge round of applause. ‘… we are team Mithra,’ Indu finished and I figured right there that this was no joke.

Samantha, the new college president takes the mike and asks the first years if they liked the performance to which they scream their approval. The sense of excitement is thick and very evident in the air. She announces that she would keep asking questions between all the programs and says that she’d start from the basic thing they had to know about the college. And just as she was saying it, I mouthed it right along with her, audible enough for Dharini, who was standing right next to me, to hear: ‘What is the college colour?‘  My eyes clouded right there and I turned to look at Dharini. In one breath we said it at the same time – ‘Apoorva.’

A million memories came rushing and tears were swelling up uncontrollably. Other friends who were sitting in the opposite side of the lower gallery bent forward to catch a glimpse of my face, equally shaken at the enormity of what was happening around us and the shock the slap of reality gave on our terror-stricken faces fresh. The same orientation programme that had happened when I had joined Ethiraj stayed fresh in my mind. The regular guesses of ‘purple’ and ‘lavender’ came along for the question about the college colour and I said to myself, ‘Mauve,’ picturing how Apoorva twisted her lips when she said that, laughing a tiny laugh to myself amid the tears running down my cheek.

I remembered all at once the white and pink salwar she wore during the first day of my orientation and how the entire Students’ union was in white that day, the way she would mime clapping, standing at one wing of the stage and how the auditorium would instantly burst into thunderous applause. The letter that I had written – out of pure admiration, I strongly add - which was very wonderfully read in the auditorium right there and the way people identified me as the ‘letter girl’ and the ‘Apoorva girl’ for a long time to come – I faced that question even during my campaigning sessions when people asked me why I had written it and what I had written in it. It annoyed me after a certain point of time, but at that instant, sitting in the auditorium, I was unable to conceive why I wasn’t among the general first year crowd, looking at the ‘Reflections’ themed dance and cheering for the Western Music team. Blurring again – Anjana. And her guitar.

Pradeepa, sitting in the chair beside the spot I stood, tugged at my t-shirt and jerked her head towards the first years who were seated in the rows in front of her. I realized that we had grown up way too fast and it was time that a new set of enthusiastic kids looked up to us as the secretaries and seniors. I gulped and hastily wiped off the stray tears and joined the cheering for the western team on stage.

There were times during the first couple of weeks of my final year when I used to walk to the union room, half-expecting to catch a chat with Srunika, Umapriya, Anupama, Meena, Ishwarya or Deepa. To discuss about sponsorships, about a departmental activity and about plans for other events. When I would ask Shailee if she was late because she was camping in the union room yet again. And when I would look into her eyes and we’d smile weakly before moving on to some other topic of discussion.

Getting over this terrible feeling that the years have run over us will probably take a lot more time than the tenure I have left at college. Final year. Already. Madness. But I guess there’s this one single year that is at my disposal as of now. Time to forget stupid fights, keep aside silly egos, spend quality time together, bunk in healthy intervals – for first day, first shows, for C&C visits, to roam about aimlessly at Spencers, to go window shopping at EA, to raid Pondy Bazaar, for the umpteen other shopping trips, for sleepovers and the deep sleep we plunge into when it dawns and for bunking just for the sake of it -  take more than enough pictures and make memories worth considering life to have been lived in. 

Someday, far into the future, maybe at least 5 of them would turn up for my wedding and I would have pictures to show my kid while explaining what ‘friends’ and ‘fun’ mean.

P.s: All the people whose names I’ve mentioned here and other seniors including my department secretaries, the Students’ union of the past 2 years, those in the different college teams and those who were an integral part of making those years very colourful and full of captivation, thank you. You have given me moments to cherish, reminisce and write about.

-       Just Someone.