22 and Life

Once in a while we come across days that asks us to contemplate on how our life has been. For Megha today was one of those days. All through her life she heard her parents saying that if one just concentrate and study well, the life is set. She was a good student all her life, topped throughout her school and college days. She was the only girl who made through this single MNC that came to their college. And look what you have got. She is working like an animal all day. And at night she has no one to return except for her lonely apartment calling for a kill. Sighing, Megha slumped deeper in the velvet-covered chair at the Lovers Lounge, a city pub, and stared down the rows of empty scotch glasses. 22 and life you got!!! Ever since her first day at work, she’d been suffering from this cold hands and feet syndrome. The same thought reverberates. What if she wasn’t good at her work? What if she did not fit in her job profile? Considering the pace, what if she stumbles? Or worse what if she fails just this time, for the first time in her life? There go the cold feet.

Then there were milder concerns. She knew how bad she is at the basic survival skills of Man is a social animal law. And surviving in a monstrous city like this one... Ah!! Did Darwin give a theory on survival of the lame? For a person who had indulged in solitude all her life, living in the metro was going to be a severe strain to her sanity. As of now she had no friends in the city either. She never had one. She never had the time for one. And the blend of her unbeatable inability to approach new people and the fact that out here where no one makes the first friendly move, and she had undoubtedly landed in a position to be friendless and alone. So she is where she is supposed to be- single and nobody to mingle. “To me.” Megha lifted a toast in her honor, determined not to waste another moment of rental time on the famed Lovers Lounge. She had come here to party and that exactly what she is going to do. Savoring her drink, Megha made her way to the dance floor. She jumped as the bass line of a funky new dance tune thudded through the speakers. The DJ was doing a good job.
Closing her eyes, she let the rhythmic pop music take her far away from her life, the frenzied professional life and the hollow personal life, and all the stupid expectations she’d piled on herself over the past few years. At least she knew how to dance. Right now, as the music pulsed through her veins and set her into motion without a conscious thought on her part, Megha decided that was enough. She was there for more than an hour, dancing oblivious to the world. When her body was hot and damp with sweat she decided to sit and have another shot. The Lounge was full and she could not find herself a seat. She peered through the darkness. Then at the corner she saw a young guy sitting alone at a table. Under normal conditions she would never share a seat with a stranger but today she was in a mood on acting on impulse. She dragged her and sat on the couch and decided not to talk.
“You were exotic while dancing. Care for a drink with me”, he said in a soft tone and ordered a drink for both of them. They exchanged their introduction. But the strange thing was that they didn’t tell each other their name. And it was not required. She wanted a casual talk and that was what she was getting. She was happy and contended. He was a final year graduate and she was just a fresher out of college. Yet this guy had something about himself that intrigued her. He was fun to talk and at the same time his priorities was sorted. Unlike her he was very resolved and oriented with his emotions. They talked about their childhood, school days and then college life. Megha felt her body ease. Even in her very close friends’ company she used to speak in an alert manner, apprehensive and careful about her views. But there was something about this guy that relieved her. No it was not the scotch she was sure. It seemed as if she was floating in his words. She had spoken enough about herself and he had a solution for each of her problem. He said that she was lonely because she doesn’t allow people to penetrate the walls she has built around her. She tries to balance her emotions in a circle. She sense things like radar and whenever talks go beyond the circle she gets too conscious. He said that she talks to herself in her lone time and she knew it was true. What was he? A psychiatrist or a soothsayer? How did he know so much about her in less than two hours chat? She kicked herself for not asking more about him. She was mesmerized because the attraction had been so strong and so fast, faster than they had talked.
She heard a distant beep. Oh yes!! It was her scheduler. The digital scheduler she always carries in her purse. Damn! It was three in the morning. On a normal weekday she would have been sitting at her laptop and finishing the bugging and testing. Reality rushed into her mind like a cascade of water. Megha pivoted away from guy’s heart-fluttering conversation to peer around the Lovers Lounge.
“I suppose it is getting late.” She gasped.
“Don’t stop now. Things were just getting interesting.”
Megha regretted her conscious. She wanted to spend time with this guy who’d bowled her over from the moment they’d met. It was not just his looks but his talks. How non-judgmental and without any prejudices he talked to her and soothed her erupting emotions. The premise was crossed. The walls were broken. Her head whirled. How can she think romantically about a stranger? It would be unrealistic and embarrassing. And how on this planet could she leap into a relationship when she is stinging into the mess of her professional life? She knew her job was tiring. It was taking toll on her life. But isn’t this was the time she could give her best to her career and achieve the milestone long awaited? In a matter of three years she would be married and then start a family. Things would be difficult then, working at odds hours and stuffs like that. Grrr! Shhh! The thoughts inside her mind were shouting and suddenly the music she was enjoying became a noise.
She collected herself from her thoughts and rose from the seat.
“Hey at least tell me your name and contact. It was fun. We can do it again.”
“I’m not sure about that. Besides it’s not such a good idea as I’m not much into pubbing and stuffs.”
“Ok have my number and call me when you feel like talking.” She sensed a strange urgency in his voice. She couldn’t deny it after spending these momentous hours with this guy. It was an experience that would be indelibly impressed on her memory.
He handed her the tissue over which he had written his number and gestured toward the door. “Shall I drive you home?”
That sounded dangerous in her lonely, heart-sore condition. Especially when her attraction to him—senseless though it might be—loomed as sizzling hot and the practicality crashing down stopped her from taking a step further.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea. I need to drop at a friend’s house for some papers.” Along with fifty other “must-do” and the tissue clenched between her fists she wandered over toward her seat, where she’d set her purse earlier. Time to leave this night—and this wonderful guy—behind her. She waved her hand for a cab. At the next signal she blew the tissue without even giving a glance at it. 22 and life you got! Megha sighed.

Name sake

This is not a blog on “live-in” relationship. My simple question is why we have to name a relationship? Marriage? Friendship? Passing affairs? Sometime things could be so simple if it goes without a name because sometimes we have to fit things under certain classification. The reason- nomenclature doesn’t have a name suiting the description. The whole agony begins when we start looking for a “tag” for the relationship. Let me explain you the process. The whole things start with liking, possibly mutual or non-mutual. With time the feeling grows. The simple liking is then augmented with emotions. This heralds the need to designate the special someone. If she/he is of the same gender the most convenient label is “friends” or probably “bro” or “sis” (if very close). So with same gender things are simple. But the actual game begins when people of different sex develop the liking. We have limited options here. You can be friends or boy/girl friends. The most stupefying fact is that for each pair involved the feeling is different from the rest and very unique. Yet one has the same brand to tag us with. And when things do not go according to the tag rules…problem starts. People start “fitting” themselves into the circumscribed boundaries of the existing named relationship. If they are successful at the first level (of sustaining this contest) they go to the next level. Another tag… Spouse? (Women might particularly start looking marriage through Cinderella eyes.) You need a fountain of emotion to perform at this level. With each hit that you bear, your drive for scoring the best increases. Pressure is ever increasing and adrenalin is gushing… Lup Dup... Lup Dup…Playing the role better than others is on our mind. We try it to the hilt without realizing that the relationship is sucking up an enormous amount of time and energy. It entirely takes over our lives. The pressure is always on to do something, be it wine and dine, interact with the family, remember things etc and etc. HUH!!! It's just too much work. Then come the judgment day-culmination of all the failed attempts to last in this war. What was the need of this futile struggle? Just because we wanted to stand out in the named relationship? Stand as examples? After all this we forget the beautiful feeling we shard at the zeroth level, when no tag was attached. The same (read as used to) fun becomes a burden that sags our soul. Whatever it is, it’s just too doltish to ruin the fun and kill the moment in some trivial attempt to fit in. A word for all those loathsome fellas, “Stop brooding and nauseating over this repugnant feeling of this ain’t working”. I think we don’t need to fit in at all. All we need to do is to live it. But I guess it’s too simple to realize, right?