Tag: love

Human Nature. A Conundrum

I’m hung up on The Blacklist.

red

I’m hung up on brilliant writing, cold-blooded murders, deception, manipulation, justice, and purjury. But most of all, I’m hung up on human nature.

Ego. It’s a weird word. It sounds weird. It looks weird. And it means more than its disyllabic utterance. At the end of every episode of every season of every show, I had to question my instincts about human nature and all I thought I knew about love and ego.

Humans are egotistic bastards. Nothing changes that.

But love changes anything.

The revelation surprised me. After all, I had lost all hope in humanity. I felt rather negative about humans. How could anyone demand control over another? I hated it that parents could dominate their child’s life. I couldn’t bear the thought of one person dictating entire nations. It felt like hypnosis — in a world that prides itself democratic.

But then I saw The Blacklist. It strengthened my feelings, of course, but it shook my beliefs as well.

I hadn’t thought anyone could ever care for another so much as to go to any lengths to fight for the ones they cared. No matter the price — even if it were the ego they held most dear — they’d give it up nonetheless. Because, love.

And at that moment, I regained hope in humanity. I know, The Blacklist is nothing more than awesome fiction. But we are a race that thrives on fiction. We seek inspiration in non existence. Fiction taught me survival in a world of dangerous, manipulative people. But fiction also showed me the world has people who’d give up everything they treasured to protect those they loved.

Perhaps humility will endure. Wait till I finish the series.

Chapter Fifty One: Eight Years Later

Dear Diary,

I’m sorry I haven’t written in a long time. It’s just, I am so busy with my life and all the other lives I’m now a part of. A lot has been happening lately.

Today dawned just another boring Tuesday, but the important thing, today’s Pa’s ninth death anniversary. I was a quiet day, and I made his favourite chapatti — just the usual.

Also, we got some great news yesterday. “Dissolve Addiction” members are all doing really well. We have succeeded more than I thought. I’m really glad. We’ve got new volunteers and a whole lot of benefactors. Yay!

Anil’s interview aired yesterday, and he was amazing of course. He spoke of us and how we got things started. And he spoke of Niveda. I didn’t know he would, and after a long time, thinking of her made me cry. If only we could have saved her.

I saw him do the interview, but seeing him on television really gave me the spark. You know what? He looked so handsome in that blue shirt I picked up, I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Anyway, about “Dissolve Addiction” — we’ve sent out thousands of people who are better off. Their families are so grateful to see them free. It’s priceless. Particularly the children. I’ve never been happier for starting this organization.

Anil is taking care of the organization, and I’m juggling between this and teaching. He’s done a great job, really. He’s almost taking care of everything single handed. I’m so glad he doesn’t regret quitting his job. It’s as if both he and I have taken our inspiration from James.

But here’s the truth, Diary. In the beginning, we got nowhere, and I worried about failing. None of our members were motivated enough, they tried, yes, but kept giving up. And then James heard of our endeavour and called us. It was James and Rasheed (Remember him? The physician who treated Niveda?) who helped us get on track. Rasheed connected us with a few professionals and then it was all success from there.

Ms Marrie called today. She’s having a good time. She likes traveling and meeting new people. It’s surprising, you know, how she’s so active for her age. We celebrated her fortieth birthday last year, and she bubbled with energy. She was like these women in American TV series. You know, those old women who neither look nor sound old? That’s how she is, she’s got herself a comfortable car and is planning to make road trips throughout the country.

Another weird thing happened last night. Niveda’s mother called me. Can you believe it? I didn’t think so.

She called in to say she was sorry. ‘What for?’ I asked, and she said, it was for the way she had treated me all those years ago. I told her she should feel sorry for the way she had treated Niveda. After all, it was her fault, right?

Anyway, I don’t even know why she suddenly thought of apologizing. Maybe it was the interview. But I don’t care about her. I have other, important things to worry about.

That’s it for now, I think.
Talk later.

Together Forever

Holding hands, they strolled

into jail.

It’s been a while, and I decided to get back to some six-word stories. Share some of yours too, I’d be delighted to read them.

 

Alone on Holidays

holidays

I might be late to talk about being alone for the holidays, but I just felt it.

I’m not one who needs someone by her side to feel wanted, or important, or significant.

I’m fine with watching The Abominable Bride alone on a Friday night. I’m happy with watching Friends with my Sunday brunch. And it never mattered to me that the Friday was Christmas, or the Sunday was Valentines Day. Because for me, they are just holidays.

But as I saw my friends, colleagues, and almost everyone else I know go home for the holidays, or ride to the city of alcohol to celebrate New Year’s Eve, I felt strange.

Strange — not lonely. I will never accept I’m lonely when I’m alone. I know the difference between the two and revere personal space. I wasn’t lonely, but I felt so “ungrown-up.”

Everyone I knew wanted to spend time with their spouses, children, and parents. When did everyone around me grow up so fast?

Now that I think of it, almost all of my acquaintances and friends are couples. They are either already married with kids on the way, or are just about to get married.

As for the single ones I know, they are too generous to barmaids to grow up.

Wondering about the strangeness of it all, I realized the people who went home to their spouses and kids at 6pm are the same ones who once accompanied me when I pulled an all-nighter. They were the first to volunteer to stay back and clean up after a party, they were the ones who’d take up customer calls from a different time zone and conduct midnight webinars. And now, by 6 pm, they’re gone from the office.

But I’m still here. And I still feel strange. But that doesn’t stop me from munching on some fried snack, drinking a cup of coffee, and laughing at Friends while nodding my approval at “Joey doesn’t share food.”