Wallowing with self pity

I am turning back to my other self,preferable on being left alone rather than on being with company.I am not sure whether I am too weak to allow myself to feel hurt for every small thing,but when i am alone ,I feel no one has any chance to hurt me.I do not need any pretensions too when I am alone and that is part I feel most comfortable with.

Chetan bhagat's new one

2 states:The story of my marriage is the new book from india's prime time storyteller.Coming back from my obsession Of Prison Break ,I read the novel in two sessions mostly at night and today afternoon.The book does not indulge in the motives of character's actions but rather than on the action itself,such as how a marriage happens between two persons ,who are geographical opposites in a country where the tendency is to take the beaten path(bride-communnity1,groom too must belong to community 1).It is an Indian's identity to be first defined by his caste,then by his state,and last by his language.CB(chetan bhagat)in this thinly veiled auto biographical novel,the characters might well be chetan and his wife anusha,writes or rather speaks about how their marriage came to be.It involves krish ,the boy ananya ,the girl both travelling to meet each other's parents and convince them that they are the perfect romeo and juliet.The plot may be straight out of a tamil cinema movie,but where chetan scores is his ability to potray the difference between two sets of people,Punjabis who love talking and the tamil brahmins who love silence..The family that loves food and other THE HINDU.The generation before and the generation next.When the book rushes towards its stereotypical ending I am not sure whether I had become involved with the near real life story or the that they had suceeded in their marriage inspite of their obstacles,I just felt my mood uplifting.

GETTING IT OUT

Yesterday was the first day i had to regret my anger.It was heated debate involving the chennai superkings,who i despise even though i live in chennai and am a native.My acquaintance ,whom i cannot call a friend ,since my mood fluctuates too fast from a camaraderie feeling to outright anger when i am in his company,was a vociferous supporter of the home team.Five long minutes ,I knew I had lost control and was using abusive language against him."From whom i can expect reasonable argument ,I can only see an individual who is shaking with anger",these words though did not stop me ,but at least went through my head causing me to slow down.After a couple of minutes when our two friends had cooled us off,I started to regret ,what I had become within a space of five minutes.My shame was further compounded by the fact that my argumentative acquaintance came over within five minutes, "Why do we need to fight for these guys?" and offered hands.It was then only I could shake hands and say sorry.It was then I realized I had the inbuilt constitution of a coward,who is afraid to lose and hence uses abusive language in the same way people use power to quell a rising voice of reason.

Reflections' continued

The probability of minutes made me decide I could go to the bank and comeback to the class before the break,but you always know probability is not possibility and hence I had to miss my second lecture too.The day ended with me only attending the lab class.I had comeback to hostel and decided to go to my friend's room .Sometimes coincidences do happen and I get a sidelong glimpse of "she who must not be named",walking with a girl who is my classmate and a boy who is in the team conducting our national level technical Symposium.She of course fits exactly into the category of "motivated nerds" who are type of persons who excel in college,and the people who do not have even the smallest amount of "What am I doing in this college?" look.Calm ,confident,overachieving,maintaining relationship with likewise overachieving seniors,who of course my classmate is and always with a inner force that is always like a string pulling them towards what they intend to achieve.I dare not even look upon her face now lest my class mate sees me look at her and at some point you always know that the person you are watching is aware of your eyes and so I pretend I do not notice them and only after reaching a certain distance do I turn and see her back.Secretly glad of the second chance ,I reach my friends room.

Reflections'

What started as a hopeful day ended up leaving me ...... reflecting.Morning came to me at what time I do not know,but I was sure I had passed my 8:30 deadline(First lecture of the day).I wanted to make sure I could get
a glimpse of the angel ,"who must not be named",to start the day auspiciously. She comes out only during the breaks,I was running along to be outside our common class building ,reaching to find that my class was still going on ,which was not a surprise given that our lecturer is the HOD of our department ,who always insists on
enlightening the students and "enlightening" takes a long time.I peeked into the nearby class and to my dismay it was empty ,I sat down on the pavement opposite our class hoping for her to comeback for her next class.She came back and now I have the daunting challenge of looking at her ,without her catching me in the act.I would just stare around in circles ,noting the trees,buildings ,her face,classroom and then her face one more time.I was
sure I had got a glimpse of her face for two or three seconds which was most I was going to get for the day.She headed to classroom and I to my path towards broadening my engineerng horizon.

HURT

"When you are viewed by the person you care about as only just another cog in the wheel?,how do you feel?"