Thursday, September 11, 2008

The spotlight thing...

Disclaimer: Yes, a little bit of recycling here. In the first post of this blog, I mentioned that I deleted my old blog for a certain reason. And this post was one of the reasons. But, at the same time this post is, to date the best piece of story telling I have done.  There are friends, who don't like it all that much because of the sad undertones. But, please be advised that although it is not entirely fictional; it is just a post. If you have to know, about 10-15% of this post came from my reality and the rest came from my imagination. And the most important question is, why revive a post such as this? I really don't know but, maybe because I want to test if I really buried the hatchet or still carry the burden. And oh! yes, I am an attention _______(fill in your fav, expletives here & leave the comments clean).

The Spotlight Thing:

I looked around; it was the familiar setting, a room that was shabby. It has been my constant refuge in the past few months, a room in the middle of no-where with smudges all over the walls. Maybe, they were a symbolic representation of the murk within me or just that they were really old. Do I remember seeing those marks before?  I am afraid that if I prolong the thought I might finally find the answers I have been seeking for long. 


I live a lie. A life in which I had countless times thought, ‘How nice would it be to just wake up from my sleep and realize that, this was all a dream’, a very bad dream. I rehearsed the scene in my head so-many times that I lived in the illusion that reality were just that sort of a dream. Not entirely for the whole time but, yeah sometimes I still do believe that I would wake up any moment with sweat pouring down my face and with an ex-pression of horror written all over it. I would stumble towards the sink, wash my face. I never looked at the mirror probably because I already knew how I looked or maybe it was because, I was always a pair of eyes watching what is happening around from a panoramic angle. I would then end up ruminating on what the dream has just showed me and to avoid all the mistakes that I have made thus far. A thought, that has stuck with me for so long that I am afraid, that one day I will end up believing that. 


I have told a lot of my friends that their troubles were much simpler compared to others in the world. I always painted a pastoral picture for them, a canvas on which they had it easier and simpler than most of them. True, most of them did have a life that was easier than most. I even painted this picture to some who had it really bad to give them the hope that they were doing well than some poor beggar child on the streets. Well, precisely not a beggar child but you know how it works. It was not a permanent solution but it sure was effective in the short term. Some of them for whom my words of consolation gave a little relief, I did not intend to help nor was I trying to do any harm but, it was just one of those things where you are really not interested in helping the party concerned. Some of them I really did intend to help but, with them there was always this feeling that… what I did was just a temporary solution. Maybe, it was just me that was not satisfied or did not understand what my friends needed. But, when they tried to do the same with me, I always put up a wall that wouldn’t let their concern slip through. 


As I said, a part of me wanted to be left alone when it was in trouble. Deep down I knew my troubles were no different than theirs. Just that, I never admitted to it. Probably because I was afraid that these carefully erected walls of lies around me would crumble and disappear (Yes, the curious cat in me took a peek on the other side of the wall). Then, I would be a happy man…A man free from the same mundane troubles that your everyday average guy had. Yes, I purposefully sabotaged my own chances. Most of the times with some sort of self-guilty reasoning and sometimes just because I was just too plain lazy. But, I always knew that if I hadn’t done what was supposed to be done it would eventually pile up on that weight that my walls support.


You see there is idiotic romanticism with fighting back or fighting against the odds, which humans have. You find a solution to a very complex problem in 15minutes like you were solving your average everyday crossword; no one would even give you second thought. But, if you made the problem bigger and bigger and solved it in a flash everyone notices your talents (Stealing the spotlight). Well, all this rambling has nothing to do with the romanticism and blah, blah!  But, it does show us something important. The light is shining on you when the deck is stacked against you.


So, dutifully I sabotaged my opportunities one after the other. There was no deadline. All there was, is the empirical knowledge of how much weight the walls can hold. Time was not of the essence because; I have a lot of it at my disposal. Finesse was of quintessential importance. Like a surgeon who should know, how to stitch the skin back together. I had to take back control of my life, some day. And I had to know which type of stitches to use so that it heals quickly. I don’t like being frustrated. I have enough patience but, I would rather see things done quickly than wait for them to get back to normal.


My friends like a pack of sheep, kept giving me encouraging words and self help books. I wish to tell them the truth one day. But, the days of revelation and isolation are far away, at least for me. But, I stocked my freezer with alcohol. I don’t know why, but for some weird reason these kind of revelations went well with alcohol. Maybe it’s just that the alcohol numbs our senses enough to shield the pain.


I began to wonder while writing these lines, if it was just the spotlight thing or was it something else that has driven me towards this suicidal route. I pondered long and hard, the answer was simple. It was just about stealing the show. I needed attention; I needed attention like never before. I felt disgusted, filthy, exhilarated, and high because…I was the attention whore! 


 Before I slash my wrists, I have to appreciate your patience and thank you for that strong shoulder I was able to rest on, a countless times. I wish I could use it now, to support my sagging frame. Au revoir!



2 comments:

Keshi said...

Attention comes to us at a time when we need it the least...and when we need it the most, its nowhere to be seen. Sadly.

Good writeup!

Keshi.

Jahnabi Roy said...

thankfully you mentioned that only about 10% of this is true and i honestly hope that 10% is incl in th very begiining...coz u write really well... its dark and sad and everybody goes thru this phase sometime... when there is no one to turn to and you want this to be a dream or maybe like in my case i tend to imagine that i am old and all of this has already happened and i lived thru it...and nowe they're just a part of my memories...
waiting for a subsequent post...also hoping that it'll have a lightr shade of the mood...

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