Things that I don't understand

Things that I don’t understand – III

  1. Fluid mechanics. Office politics. And heart
  2. Black holes. Black-heads. What existed before big bang. And heart.
  3. X-men movie timeline, Donnie Darko and why I suck at receiving compliments.

He looked at me for a second or two. But I kid you not that time frame felt like an entire age! Of course, I couldn’t hold his gaze back. I always lost when asked to stare in that stupid game – Truth, dare & stare. Look at you, dear brain – how quickly you dug up a memory from a decade ago. And where are these excellent abilities of yours when I am searching for my keys? Anyway, I am on a date and not only have I received the whole middle school flashback during a supposedly romantic gaze, I have also noticed some minor cracks in the ceiling and patches of dampness on it sprinkled here and there. If you look at them carefully, you would realize that they look like skin disease. To be more precise, they look like Eczema. How do I know that? Because I had Eczema almost my entire childhood. Wow, I can see we are travelling back(er) in time. Are you sure it’s not even been a second? Look at the wall! It’s ruined too! Why don’t builders hire good plumbers? Wait, do good plumbers even exist? Why won’t you stop looking at me, you idiot? “Because he likes you, you idiot!”, someone in my brain replies. I quickly shrug off the thought fearing it might result in either of two completely opposite reactions, none of which are desirable right now – embarrassment or a shy blush. I glance through the limited book collection in the small book shelf nearby and quickly deduce that the owner obviously doesn’t read. Though the company of any of these books would have been better than the pair of eyes still fixated at me. Oh my god, how can time be this long? “You are not being a nice person”, some voice in my head feels entitled to express its opinion again. Well, that’s your problem brain, thought process is completely your department. Then my ears receive the stimulus of his voice. I see the girl, sitting behind him instead. In my defense, she is dressed pretty smartly and she is pretty pretty too. I know it’s rude not to listen to people when they are talking. So, I finally drag my attention, the incredibly heavy attention that weighs too much to even be touched at all, back to him. His words, I don’t remember. Random things, random people, a small poem he wrote, a girl he used to like, a place he once visited, things he read, things he did not read, movies he watched, people he loved, so many things he might have talked about but I don’t remember. It’s a shame I guess, all I do remember is his lips moving, mouthing some words which could have been in English or Croatian altogether. His upper lip half covered with the mustache and lower lips looked as if swollen from a recent kiss. “Or maybe an anticipation of a kiss?” Thanks for that input, brain. But this is a date, isn’t it? Inputs like this aren’t really that inappropriate. Date, yes. This reminds me that I need to buy some dates, it’s been ages since we have had them. How about we go to Dubai to buy some dates? Of course, it’s a good time to talk nonsense. Ah, no, the first cliched place we are going to visit is Paris. We are going to sit and stare at the Eiffel tower from dusk to dawn. We are going to buy that shirt that says – J’aime la Paris. We are going to eat Croissants and drink wine instead of water. Sorry to interrupt but there’s person in front of you who has probably asked you a question and I think you should reply. “What?” I manage to mutter with an apologetic smile. “I like you” he says. Croissants and wine. You forgot to include cheese. Cheese & chocolate croissants and wine, happy? And Eiffel tower and that museum Dan Brown wrote about. “Hey! Are you even here?”
No. I am in Paris. I am busy doing all those overrated things as a part of an automatic defense mechanism against your recent statement and expectations.
“Yes, here.”
“So, don’t you have anything to say?”
“Nothing yet.”
He gives an understanding nod. Aww…that’s sweet. And the moment I confess this, some other voice in my head taunts, “Why are you doing this to him! He is nice!” I know and with this storms in the guilt, as if waiting impatiently just outside the door the whole time. The Paris dream vanishes in the air. The damp patches in the wall turns invisible. This is my turn to look at him. He smiles and sips the coffee, which is savored by a few caffeine addicted strands of his mustache too. Probably you are going to write a poem on this later. On him? On my guilt? Or the mustache drenched in coffee? You know I won’t. There’s only one asshole I write poems about and in the end they don’t even turn out to be about him. “Not a good moment to be thinking of your ex, just saying,”someone retorts in my head again.
“Up for dessert?” I ask, trying to change the topic.
“No, I think you are already enough sweet to handle.”
“Too cheesy?” He asks.
Good, at least he knows. And did he just say no to desserts?
“I warned you I am cheesy.”
When? Maybe when you were in Paris munching on Croissants or Dubai buying dates.
“And I am not done yet…I have been meaning to tell you this all evening so I am just going to be done with it -You are really beautiful.” he says.
Right. He could have called me a rogue. He could have called me dumb and accused that I couldn’t even do arithematic. He could have told me how judgmental I am. He could have told me that I am disgusting especially when I make noise when I chew. He could have told me that my posture isn’t right. I tend to slouch and walk like Shaggy in Scooby Doo. He could have told me that I am malnourished and probably too tall! He could have told me all of these and I would have been offended, yes but I would have survived. But instead he says – You are really beautiful. And I am more offended than I can EVER be. This is what I don’t understand.


food for thought, Things that I don't understand

Things that I don’t understand – II

  1. Fluid mechanics. Office politics. And heart.
  2. Black holes. Black-heads. What existed before big bang. And heart.

So, what’s the most popular topic available in the market for us average folks? Politics? Partly. Sports? Partly. Game of Thrones? Yes, definitely. Shit, this post should have been about that. But, okay I settled for the second best thing – Opposite gender! Of course! The most common thing that we don’t understand yet! Yeah, yeah, yeah as mainstream as it is, this is indeed going to be about him. About that guy.  “What guy?” you might ask. Good question. He is the guy you mostly hate but secretly love. The guy you secretly love and that’s why you mostly hate yourself. He is the one who has technically departed from the circle of relevance of your life. But, oh, he is there alright. The guy you are almost tempted to text when drunk. But self-control matters and you don’t really want to climb down the ladder of self-esteem anymore. So, you don’t. But still you are “tempted”. Point to be noted, your highness! The guy you might have met just once but then that was enough. The guy who never bought you any flowers or took you on a “formal” date (or let you do the vice versa) but even the lack of these things was enough. Enough for what? Enough for your obvious inference that you need to stay away. But you didn’t. Because how could you simply do things that you shouldn’t and make your life a hell lot simpler? The guy who offends you, who disrespects you in the most obvious ways and yet he matters. The guy who is not interested in you even a bit and hence all your interest comes pouring down on him. Yes, that guy. You don’t like him. Or rather you don’t want to like him. You wish for indifference. You wish that the fact that he has a satisfactory life without you doesn’t bother you. He is that guy whose proximity might be something you yearn for. But you wish both for his presence and absence. He is toxic. So, you stay away. He is toxic. So, you search for an antidote so that you could stay with him. You don’t wish to acknowledge his impact on your life and usually you don’t. But for how long would you deny?  You can’t hide the truth from your own self. Your self knows about the way he is there in your thoughts – lurking, hovering and always peeking through the curtain. “Why? Why that guy?” You ask everyone present in your body. And oh so cutely they all nod their heads with innocence dripping through their faces and they will tell you – “On ne sait pas! (We don’t know!)” You don’t know. I don’t know. God doesn’t know. Science doesn’t know. So, who knows! Damn. That guy. “Come on! You could do better surely,” you tell yourself. But then why must you belittle yourself and him both by such line of thought! You could do better. He could do better. Who knows who could do better? He is not worth it. He doesn’t deserve you. But you don’t know that. Maybe it’s not you who deserves better maybe it’s him who deserves better. Maybe his negative projections in your brain are merely one of your futile efforts to get him out of your head. For what it’s worth maybe he is indeed amazing. Too good for you. Maybe not, who knows? Can we really have an unbiased opinion about this? But do we really need that opinion? So, why insult ourselves (and him) by this pointless debate? Pause. Let’s acknowledge that our paths intersected for a reason. Pause. Let’s acknowledge that nothing lasts forever. Pause. Let’s recall that there are many people who once meant the world to you but are nothing more than a name in your Facebook friend list now. Things like that happen all the time and with everybody. Pause. Yes, you both shouldn’t be together. And thankfully that’s not even going to happen. But can somebody tell you that it’s okay to think about him? Pause. He had been amazing and you are grateful. Pause. This is a phase and it will pass. You learn and move on. That’s life. Stop. Okay?

Okay. But that guy, that person – ‘Why exactly’ is what I don’t understand.


food for thought, humour, Things that I don't understand

Things that I don’t understand

  1. Fluid mechanics. Office politics. And heart.

Heart because I remember how I waited for this day like one waits for a train when he is in absolute hurry; when he looks at his watch so frequently that his growing impatience is almost invoking in him crazy ideas for genocide. I have waited for this day in such maniacal manner and yet now when I am finally here, unbelievably close to the milestone that I had been dreaming of crossing, when that train has ultimately arrived at the platform, I can’t put my apprehensions aside. Suddenly in my hands, there is a long list of things that can go terribly wrong. It’s ironic because it’s too late to turn back now. I have boarded the train and I have no intention of getting off of it. If you had to make such kind of treacherous argument, heart, you should have spoken a little early! Why heart, why would you make this 180 degree turn now? What can you possibly gain from this? Oh wait, how could I forget! Heart isn’t a selfish guy. He doesn’t care about losing or gaining. What irk the heart most are the things that are going smoothly! I guess you yearn for a sudden change of plans again but no, my dearest friend, the great H! –  There is no other option but to continue driving ahead. I hate to tell you this but it is how it is.

Remember how happy we both once were, like till yesterday? Now, my steps are small and slow. Thanks to you, I am weak in my knees because of my nervousness, mild panic and a sudden deficiency of excitement. Where, where, where in the name of holy city of Jerusalem has my excitement disappeared to? How could you possibly assert that I am going to miss this? Look at me – Last week at office and I am running around in the shop-floor getting the material stock ready on SAP so that I could get them invoiced – subsequently meeting customer’s requirement – either that or forcibly pushing our sale target on their faces (regardless of the fact whether they want it or not) so that we could reduce our inventory. Forget what is and what is not in my scope of work. It’s my last week and instead of drafting my farewell speech (Not that I was going to do it anyway) I am dodging through my last minute fuck-ups. I am not good at what I am expected to do here. I am less of a god and more of a human. And clearly that makes me under-qualified for my job. I am required to have my brain running in exactly ten thousand three hundred and fourteen directions at the same time. As a project manager and future god everything that doesn’t make sense or gives  you suicidal/ homicidal tendencies are fed to you on regular basis to be digested, to be processed and to be used up in producing platinum quality shit as the ultimate outcome of the process. Maybe I am being too harsh. But I must be! Or else heart can paint this in red and white too. And what will be the tagline? “The good old days”

“But wasn’t it, in some smaller scale, if not good then ‘not that bad’ old days? Maybe?”

Maybe it wasn’t that bad. So, what does this mean that this thing was the best we could hope for? Is that what you are trying to say?

“Not necessarily,” my heart retorts conjoining a different argument altogether, “I am just amazed at how happy we seemed to be parting from here. I am amazed because some months ago the thought of being a part of this place brought us joy. How things change! Or rather how we change! I am just wondering how our emotions are constantly evolving into another so rapidly!”

Classic move; change the topic. Well played, Mr.H. Well, time changes things. Time changes perspectives. Time changes our need. Hence, time must NOT be underestimated. That’s what I can to add to this.

My heart doesn’t reply. And with its speechlessness, comes my supernatural ability to hear the unspoken. I will miss it. Here, take my confession on a silver platter. “Devour upon it,” if I just may. Is it delicious enough? Why am I bidding adieu with such incomprehensible set of emotions? Wait. Don’t answer. Leave it. I give up the fight. As always, heart will win anyway. So, I am going to wake up tomorrow and it won’t be because of the alarm set at 7:00 AM, I am not going to run to the bus stop, I am not going to see those emails or calls which make me lose faith in humanity, I am not going to pull my hair over stupid arguments and I am not going to secretly shed anger tears in the washroom, I am not NOT going to attend calls intentionally, I am not going to doodle in “supposedly” important meetings, I am not going to curse my safety shoes, I am not going to consider killing myself over my stupidity and general fuck-ups, I am not going to make that follow up call for the tenth time in the day, I am not going to have tea at 11 or 4, I am not going to gaze at the two calendars at my desk and wonder about my last working day, I am not going to draw on the whiteboard at my cubicle or everybody else’s cubicle for that matter, I am not going to have breakfast  over a span of half an hour chatting with my closest friend, I am not going to miss being praised for my unexpected achievements, I am not going to have my account credited monthly, I am not going to meet my close colleagues at office, I am not going to be made fun of at lunch by them, I am not going to get to hear any new office gossips, I am not going to be spending as carelessly as I spent till now, I am not going to carry my laptop bag everywhere (no, actually I will), I am not going to be delighted by the watch when it shows  5:30 PM and I am not going to experience the joy of returning home at the end of the day. I guess I have the tendency to get attached to the complete package of both dreadful and wonderful things of things. But at the end of it all, like life, like people, like so many other pieces of my writing, lays an irony. If I hadn’t decided to leave, I wouldn’t have been writing this and you would have still found me with my signature gloomy & grumpy face yet again. You would have found me complaining about how I have to go through this ordeal every day and how desperately I would like to change this. I would tell you repeatedly that I hate it. I would tell you repeatedly that maybe I don’t. Nevertheless, I would say, things must change. Well, things have changed. Congratulations. And my signature gloominess?  Well, it’s still there.

I bid adieu with a heavy heart. Heavy maybe because of my apprehensions. Heavy maybe because of my insecurities. Heavy maybe also because of gratitude. Gratitude towards each and every person who has been there, who has entered & made an exit, who has stayed or who is about to go, who will maybe come back or maybe who won’t, who has smiled, who has loved, who has hated, who has helped, who has made my life miserable – for all those people I bear nothing in my heart but gratitude. Maybe I am being more sentimental than I ought to be. But these two years have meant more to me than I would ever admit. This is what I don’t understand.