Monday, February 9, 2009

The Who-hurt-who.

You are left to wonder if any of it is possibly 'correct'. There are some circumstances you cannot avoid - you need to feel completely in control. Of course, you do. There is something very threatening about the possession of love. There is something vulbnerable about that possession. It's here someday and no longer there another. That's when you realize how fragile all of it is. I realize the idea that you could be restrained entirely by apprehension is limiting. Such circumspection is not always the right way to go. But it is still necessary.

You wonder why the strange-ness exists. It is a curious thing. There are instances when you notice a slight change in temperament, a slight recognition of a building annoyance. You cannot even discern it wholly. It just 'is'. You realize that there is a difference in their reactions. They are enthralled. They want determinedly to get to know him. They are determined to try and absorb him, immerse him in their beautiful, ceaseless pool of camaraderie. They are so cool, so effervescent, they are so impeccably nice. It is virtually difficult to notice even the slightest glitch - not a single slip of tongue, no discourtesy, not even the smallest lapse of acknowledgement. The ingratiation is so perfect, it is just too good. It's good because it is completely honest. So true-to-form and so engaging, so sociable, so appeasing.

This is why you are suddenly ungrateful for all the kindness, all the hopefulness. You want to torture their senses, to thrust them away, shock them out of their niceties, savage their friendliness. You want to repudiate every little act of goodness you receive. None of it is even remotely self-harm. It cannot be for the ingratiation isn't directed at you, it isn't yours in the first place. But you want to ravage it nonetheless, maybe especially since it isn't yours. You want to soil the soft core of their loveliness. Why? Because it is so threatening. They refuse to notice the transcience of it all. They refuse to say that one day it could no longer be there. When that happens, you know that they will be antagonistic. They will think you are cruel, foolish and reprehensible. They will tell you off, just you, no one else. That is when you will feel the need to have distanced yourself. To have defended yourself - earlier, and more sensibly.

Sunday, February 8, 2009

The Who-hurt-who.

There is something very scary about the possibility of repeating the same mistakes over and over again. The same errors, and in the same ways. The only thing that can possibly make sense is you senility. The same situations, the same foolishness. The same lack of redressal. The same thoughts over and over again. When was the last time you had reminded yourself not to feel compelled to erroneously infringe on your sanity again? When was the last time you had said, never this sort of person again? It's ridiculous. The more you try and prevent it, the more it seems to inevitably come back to irritate you. Never more than effect you, because it is so ephemeral, this ludicrous source of lunacy. This time, it was slightly different. This time, it was entirely through correspondence. Interminable e-mails floating over the distance of their two cities. Bangalore so far away, so completely out of the question. Yet, one never thinks about it. One only gets immersed, excrutiatingly. This time, it was not encumbered by proximity. Two people, so far, so distant, virtually separated by so many things. The last time, it was difficult to recognize, because it was in school, and everyone lived in the same cloistered room. No diversions, no egress, the same rooms and the same people in them. This time, even though there was nothing that really bound me, it still persisted. A long, long delusion. The same end. The same kind of fallacy. The same mistakes all over again.

Although, I cannot say that I didn't know it would happen in the end.