Chapter Seventeen: Acquainting

After a tiring day on the streets of Bangalore, the three friends decided to take Sunday off. They had planned to use the holiday to explore the college campus. They had had already gone through the buildings on the day of their interview, but it would be a whole new experience to do it as students of the college; they had a sense of mischief that was forbidden then.

On Sunday morning as the girls got ready to meet Anil, Praveena remembered the previous morning’s fiasco. She was standing in front of the mirror, combing her hair, and Niveda stood behind her, folding her clothes.

“Hey,” Praveena exclaimed looking at Niveda through the mirror, “I forgot, what about your medicines?”

“What about them?” Niveda responded carelessly. She swayed to the song that was playing from her mobile on her bed.

Praveena liked that song too. It was a party song which would make anyone move.

“What were they for?” Praveena now turned to face Niveda. She was curious, she had seen a lot of medicines in her life. They made uneasy, unceremoniously reminding her of her mother and the disease of which she died.

Seeing the serious look on Praveena’s face, Niveda stopped her chore and turned to Praveena, avoiding her eyes.

“Look,” She said, trying to keep her voice even. “I don’t want to talk about it, don’t ask me anything”. That’s when Praveena noticed Niveda’s eyes were bloodshot and she appeared to lack energy.

“Ok…” Praveena dragged not sure how to prod further. She realized Niveda shifting into a bad mood. “Let’s go, shall we?” She changed the topic. “I’m starving.”

Niveda nodded and, leaving her clothes on the bed, she left the room while Praveena followed, locking the door behind her.

They met Anil in the canteen not far away from the girls’ hostel. There weren’t many students in the canteen, except for a few early risers grabbing a watery cup of chai or coffee. With half a cup of coffee in front of him, Anil was meddling with his phone, his eyebrows creased in annoyance over something. Or someone.

“Hey,” Niveda and Praveena chorused as they took the remaining seats on the table.

Anil looked up at them, irritated. “I’ve been waiting for nearly half an hour. Why do you girls always have to be late?” He shook his head in exasperation.

“Sorry, buddy.” Niveda laughed. “We got caught up.” she said as Praveena smiled at his reaction.

“I’ll get something to eat” Praveena offered, standing up.

Twenty minutes later, the trio left the canteen, Niveda cursing the chef for his dismal cooking abilities.

They sauntered around the campus, not talking much. Niveda’s medicine issue kept nagging Praveena at the back of her mind. She was tempted to open the matter again, but resisted the urge for fear of angering Niveda. She had looked a bit scary the previous morning and Praveena decided to keep her silence. She turned to join the conversation when she saw the other two glaring at her.

“What’s up?” she inquired innocently.

“We were talking to you, idiot!” Niveda sounded amused and angry at the same time.

“Oh,” Praveena smiled sheepishly, “sorry,” she shrugged. “What were you saying?”

“Never mind!” Anil sounded tired. “Let’s go sit somewhere.

They went over to the open ground overlooking the campus. They sat down looking out into the open without talking. Praveena enjoyed the moment; the gentle breeze, the subtle sunlight, the vast expanse of greenery, and her friends by her side; she felt content and complete. Anil broke the silence, “Tell us a bit about yourself and your family,” he asked turning to Niveda.

Niveda rubbed her hands, “Okay, my father is CEO of some stupid export company,” she recited, waving her hand “My mother’s the leader member of the Bangalore Women’s Club and I’m the rich and ignored heir, raised by servants.” she finished with a flourish that plainly said she didn’t care. For a minute though, Praveena and Anil became silent, taken aback by Niveda’s curt attitude. “Your turn!” she turned brightly to Anil.

“Oh,” Anil smiled slightly “er—my parents are separated. Mom raised me. Both Mom and Dad are lecturers. Mom’s in Delhi with Anit, my brother, and Dad’s here in Bangalore. That’s it.” he shrugged.

“Wow!” Niveda exclaimed, interested. “you’re an ignored kid too?” ‘Was that a hint of joy in Niveda’s voice?’ Praveen’s inner voice piqued from nowhere.

“Er – nope. Mom left for Delhi only after I got in here. So…” he trailed away.

“Oh,” Niveda was mildly crestfallen. There was an awkward silence.

“Hey! What about you, Praveena?” Niveda piped in, still in high spirits.

“Me,” she hesitated. ‘That’s exactly the problem,’ she thought. She couldn’t talk to them about her mother and father. She felt scared. Did she expect them to tease her? Maybe, but she wasn’t sure. She glanced at the two questioning faces. “Dad’s in the hardware business in Chennai. And my mom died.” Seeing their shocked looks at the last few words, she added “I was thirteen,” nodding a little too hard. She had tried to sound as impassive as possible; she didn’t want to appear vulnerable. She realized, with annoyance, that she was still insecure with relationships as she had been in school. She suddenly wanted to talk to Ms Marrie. ‘She’d give you the best advice,’ her inner voice approved.

The three of them sat in silence, reflecting on their lives. Praveena remembered the conversation she had had with Ms Marrie a long time ago: You are never alone with your troubles.

She smiled to herself, silently thanking Ms Marrie.


National Blog Posting Month – Day 19

What is The Chaos Within?

I often wonder what this blog is about. It’s been three years, and I still can’t seem to figure out which category my blog falls into.

chaos

Sometimes it’s frustrating.

“What do you write about?”

“Ah — just, stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“You know — stuff.”

That’s my problem. I don’t have one definitive topic. I just write. Stuff.I’ve been thinking about it, and about what I can do about it.

And I’ve found an answer. This is not a parenting blog, this isn’t a DIY blog, not a lifestyle blog, certainly not a fashion blog — it’s a coping blog.

The more I think about it, the more it feels right. Mine is a coping blog. It tells you everything you need to know about someone who’s coping up with life. There are stories, poems and musings, but there’s also photos, quotes and books I enjoy.

I don’t write on one topic, I write on my life. And my life is a bit of everything, it’s a bit of everything mashed up. It’s the chaos within me.

Ah! Self-realization!

The Big Bang Theory. Before and After Star Trek

Narmadhaa’s log. Stardate: I don’t know when.

sheldon

It’s funny how after you watch and re-watch a television series you still can’t figure why you don’t understand it completely. Happened with The Big Bang Theory.

I had watched (over and over) the series up to season 8 long before I decided to watch the Star Trek movies.

And now, after watching the movies and starting on the Star Trek original series, I’m looking at The Big Bang Theory in a whole new light. Or to be more specific, I’m seeing my favourite character, Sheldon in a new light.

There’s nothing unlovable about Sheldon. His oddities, his ignorance and his persistent denial of ignorance — everything that makes him the most attractive character on the show. Sometimes I agree so much with the way Amy speaks of him that even I don’t understand why the other characters tend to make fun of him.

But after Star Trek, I’m not sure whether I’m attracted to Sheldon. Or Spock. There I said it.

When I first watched The Big Bang Theory, I was amazed at Sheldon’s behaviour. Him not being able to understand sarcasm, his obsession for cleanliness, his un-understandable lust for logic and his complete ignorance of emotions. Try to hug him and he’ll look at you as if you’re crazy. Because you can only try. Say something (anything) and he’ll look at you as if you’re a babbling monkey. So annoying, so intimidating, so inhuman. Yet so humane.

I loved everything about Sheldon Cooper, the awkward genius.

And then I realized that Sheldon was a caricature of the one person he adored: Mr. Spock.

So now I’m torn. Do I love the original, or the caricature, which I saw first?

Or still, is it Jim Parsons who’s given new life to two great fictional characters?

This needs some logical reasoning, and I’m incapable of it.

Long live and prosper.

What Westlife is Doing to Your Beliefs

I didn’t realize this at first, but Westlife is more than just entertaining me.

Westlife was a popular Irish boy band who disbanded in 2012 after 14 years of music. And most of their great songs are love stories.

That is the problem. I love Westlife. But I can’t help but wonder what their music is doing to me.

I have my own ideas about love and relationships. And Westlife is changing my perception. When it comes to love, a lot of musicians sing of perfect, flawless love. I picked Westlife because their words are so simple.

There’s an angel standing next to me, reaching for my heart

Ah! Young love! Nothing like that, huh? See what I mean? Westlife makes you yearn, they make your heart ache and change your beliefs.

What happens when someone who doesn’t believe in love, perfect or not, listens to these songs? Imagine the conflict!

We know perfection isn’t true. No one loves as truly as these songs claim. Perhaps a few exceptions, but in the real world, we know it’s all fiction.

But you can’t help fantasizing. Because? It makes you feel good. And we humans do have this annoying tendency to gravitate towards what makes us miserable. That’s the way we work. It’s what makes us tick.

Not to mention all the wasted time. And the worst thing is, you can’t just forget these songs. “I don’t wanna forget you, I don’t even wanna try” They are too good.

That’s what I mean.

There’s no one like you, to speak to my heart

Now you see.

#CLT “Us against the world.” What can you say? I can’t help it.