The past few weeks of frenetic activity, of long days of work followed by woozy, scarcely remembered evenings have taken their toll on me. 800 calories per glass of wine. Lost house keys. Slurred speeches of seeming profundity. Plus it’s made me really retrospective. Which is a bloody pain. I take ages to knock myself out of these moods. Anyway, I’ve realized that my life since I moved to Bombay has followed this unwavering pattern. I’m always changing jobs in September, always having a dumb meaningless fling in October, always falling in love in December, always having my heart broken in March, always growing disgruntled with my career in June. 4 years and it’s the same old story. Like my life is some looping purgatory.
Have you ever wondered what your life would have been like if you had changed the choices you once made? Yes yes its all very sliding doors. And I was wondering what my life would have been like if I had say… not stayed back in Bangalore and actually studied in St Stephens doing my lit hons like I was supposed to? I would have been smarter, more successful, would have perfected kajal stained eyes, would have a nice intellectual social group, would definitely have lost my virginity earlier, would have an amazing sweatshirt and muffler collection, would speak hindi without an annoying tam accent… sigh.
Compaq Presario C700. This laptop is officially mine. Officially but not personally. See the difference? Huh? Huh? I should really be attempting to buy off this laptop. It’s a great looking laptop and I really should invest in one. Trouble is, do I even have the money for the emi? I don’t know how I manage to fall into these financial cul de sacs. Two years ago, I lived in a pg, had pretty much nothing to call my own, but had like over a lakh in my bank account. Now, I have this super great house and a fridge and tv and two mattresses and a dvd player and frikking furniture and more than two plates and two cups in my kitchen and yet… my bank balance is nil, zero by the end of the month. Maybe that’s the price of materialism?? It’s appalling. More appalling infact as I type this. As I realize the seriousness of the situation. Is this what life is about? Paying rent and paying through your nose for spondalitis, asthma inducing travel?
Mailed long time lover and asked him to come online and chat with me once in a while. Somehow I am sure he will never accede to my request. It’s obvious we will probably never get to see each other again. So why wont he just be friends? I can’t remember the last time we had a mildly personal conversation between us. It’s so sad that we both are intelligent, witty, internet savvy people who are so stuck in the lovers mold that all conversation has to deal with trying to meet or having cyber sex. So sad. Really.
Felt quite stupid today when I logged on through a friends fb account to check fatty’s profile. Just to see if there’s any mention of her and long time lover having had a court marriage because they fell irrevocably in love. Instead turns out that madam has flown the coop. Has gone back to her motherland. Somehow that left me even more depressed. So now basically he really is single and lonely and he still doesn’t want me…..wah
I also realized today that I am far happier as a single person now than I was as a single person two years ago. It’s a bit of a contradiction really because ideally as I grow closer and closer to my eggs drying up I should ideally be more mortifyingly neurotic and manic depressive. But I think I’m in for more trouble. The bag lady who wanders the streets type trouble. Because after a while you stop battling the loneliness. You accept it. Like an amputated arm, like being in the company of smokers, like capsicum in your subway sandwich.