A one-liner about self
She feels it. Within herself. Amidst the humdrum of the time and life flowing by her. Whilst finishing everyday chores. The sensation is acute. It rises from an awkward nook of her core, seeps through her senses and engulfs her entire self. It happens out of the blue, takes her aback and leaves her humbled by its intensity and truth. Often she is lost. Looking for the right expression to put forth the pattern of those surges of feelings. Is it pain? May be not. It is closer to feeling stagnancy and a whirlwind at the same time. She wants to amble and yet be anchored. She wants to escape. To go to places unknown and be a nobody among a crowd. She wants to glide, unhindered and seamless. Yet, she fancies an occasional pause, to take a deep breath. Hidden inside her desires to be faceless and adapting to changes, she nurtures a yearning to be recognized and remembered by some.
I saw her about two days ago. On my way to work. A lingering hint of a subtle smirk at the corner of her lips rendered her visage a glow that made it stand out amidst a stoic crowd inside the metro. She returned my gaze with a slight nod. This recognition instantly imparted me with a courage that I seldom find in my heart. With an intention of cracking a conversation, I jostled a little to pave my way through the crowd and placed myself by her side. As the awkward moments strode past me during my search for a suitable pretext to fire up a conversation, I remembered seeing her a few months back, coming out of the residence next door with a leash folded in her hand. A resplendent golden retriever, the untied owner of the irrefutable leather band locked inside its master’s clasp, was gleefully following the strut of the remarkable human form leading the way.
-"I believe we're neighbours. 101A Springland Street?"
-"Um..not really. Yes I did sublet a place there sometime back for a couple of months but then I moved.."
-"Oh, I see. May I know why? Pardon my curiosity but I think the neighbourhood is pretty nice and peaceful."
-"Indeed. Perhaps a little too peaceful for my taste. At least for now I guess I am looking for a little turbulence in my everyday life."
An honest confession wrapped in a cherubic smile. I wasn’t quite prepared for such a candid declaration and so I fumbled. Stream of words kept gushing out of my mouth without proper articulation or coherence, mostly because of the lack of confidence to delve into a serious exchange of thoughts with a stranger that involves opening up to a horrifying extent. All I remembered was that she chose to move around quite a bit. Sometimes the reason was the quietude of the environment outside the entrance of her residence, the other times it was the chaos inside. And some other time the whole picture flipped. She had been incessantly experimenting with herself by throwing herself into varying circumstances. ‘Where do I fit? Or rather what fits me?’ is the query that drives her decisions and nudges her to enter a new realm over and over again. She had witnessed lonely hours while being surrounded by a bustling bunch. Then again she had cherished feeling fulfilled during her period of staying alone in a tiny studio. Number of times she had run to work to escape the gnarl of her roommates doped with enthusiasm and ecstasy, only to come back looking for the same faces to outreach the claw of emptiness chasing her all the way from work. Round and round she moves; year after year she had been engaging her entire existence in discovering herself and analyzing her role in this ever-changing scaffolding of the ambiance that she has been thrown onto.
The child within her never stops asking questions. It bothers her to the core. Mainly because more often than not, the questions are too abrupt and befuddling. So, inadvertently they left unanswered, to the dismay of the respondent. The more she tries to grow mature, the more fervent the child grows within her. Among the lurking lass’ fortes, awkward suggestions, out-of-place insinuations, deliberate instigations and adamant declarations would probably top the list.
-"Ooh! The guy sitting on the third row in your lecture, probably half your age, looks delicious! Why don't you ask him out?"
-"Oh my God! Everybody around you looks so grumpy and professional. The dinner suggests an air so conference-y!! Would you mind getting horribly drunk and walking to the hotel bare-feet? I know you want to.."
-"Ah camembert! Isn't it something worth drooling over? Sure, you have just finished a huge meal, which means no more gorging, right! Oh, but wouldn't it be foolish not to let its creamy texture melt in your mouth?...Ooh..dark chocolate..how about a bite after the cheesy delight?"
-"Let's watch Friends together. NOW. Yes I know you have a submission tonight. But this too is urgent. This HAS to happen now. You can go back to work in an hour."
-"Agnostic! What does that even mean? Isn't it a compromise between your ego, sorry, your scientific mind not letting you delve in the abyss of faith for unseen and your fear of lacking haven in your darkest moments?"
-"I'm bored. Can you browse something funny? Oh wait, do I want funny? No, let's watch peppy romantic comedies with hypnotizing prince charming and petrifying kisses. Wait a sec, I think I shall be bored with the picture perfect, okay lets watch murder mysteries. You know what? Let's chuck movies..don't you have a novel lying on your desk for two months?"
‘She’ strives; ‘she’ thrives. The tug-of-war continues and days glide. Sometimes she wakes up, looks around, puts on the the costume and the mask to look her age, she runs thousand times in her head how ideally she should behave in a given scenario before enacting the role. And often she succeeds with flying colours. Then comes the time when she slips yet again into her adolescence, reeling back to the self of relentless doubt, ceaseless hankering for cloying sweet romance, electrifying attachment and mind-numbing aloofness within a blink of eye. She looks at the mirror, ties up her hair cautiously, hiding the grotesque grey strands, puts on an overall tattered haphazardly, tilts her bonnet, lifts her backpack and starts for her office–a place where she knows her teenage heart doesn’t fit. But her 30-plus brain acknowledges the present and tries to keep up with the pace. It’s like running on a treadmill. Efforts are made, calories are burnt, illusion of movement is right on, but does it take her anywhere?
-"How long has it been? 4 years?"
-"That long, eh? Don't know, didn't keep track of the time."
-"But how come you're here? Weren't you supposed to leave? Are you visiting?"
Her warm eyes twinkled. She must have found my baffled state amusing, for she gave me an indulgent chortle and simply nodded.
-"I didn't go anywhere. I decided to stay."
What she carefully kept under the rug is her struggle to maintain a calm exterior while she is witnessing her world tweeter. Her still inexperienced heart fails to comply with the rather astonishing and unpredictable reality. As she is watching her projection of near future tumble down like a house of cards, she cannot decide on the emotion she feels inside. Sometimes it is the vigourous churning of the gut that makes her nauseated. The others are filled with overpowering numbness or searing anger.