Do you remember the character of Professor ON from my story I mentioned a few months back? He was the one who had a year to live, last September and now there are only 8 days left for this character. He was the one whose confidence is limitless and working on him made some of it rub on me too. He has his strengths, and I believe sometimes his absolute dedication to his work can make him his own heart’s worst enemy.
This was perfectly acceptable as we were on the road. Being on the road is like being a kid. You hurt over heartbreaks, get over them, get attached to something elusive, and again get over it one day. But, when you are bounded to a place, heartbreaks aren’t easier to forget, latching to something new requires a lot more restructuring and patience, and people around you always want you to be dependable. They expect you to uphold a reputation that they had built for you, in their own head, through their own experiences, that rarely have anything to do with you. That my dear is a game you shall never play. It is rigged and mostly not in your favor. Though there are exceptions to this, like, when you can argue for someone against yourself. We shall talk about this in a later post.
Now, coming back to the topic of today. There is the girl, I wonder how many conversations have started with this line, who had captured my attention over the last few months. I tried to write about her, on her, my feelings for her, our meetings, her earrings, and honestly I couldn’t write anything that resembles what I really feel. After struggling and failing miserably, every time to find a rhythm to describe her gait, a meter to measure her gaze or a tune to match my heartbeat every time our eyes meet and she blinks at me, I was certain that I can never write again. There will never be a prose that can justify my feelings and writing on anything else would be a lie.
I could have written about, how excited I was when I asked her out. I could have described how she looked in black and white. I could have hummed the songs that we sang that night. I could have penned how those damn earring still distracts me. I could have jotted her excitement when she talked about poems, love, and songs. I didn’t do anything. It’s not for the lack of trying, it’s not for the lack of reason, but for the injustice that words were doing to my feeling and excitement about her.
The obvious thing is, I wish to spend more time with her, and ironically, there are more occasions when I am determined not to. That had rarely happened to me before. Isn’t going after what you desire is being brave? Somehow it isn’t the case with ON. That is the reason I said, his attention and dedication can become his desire’s enemy. As we are nearing the conclusions for ON, I can feel that this project will end up doing exactly what it was intended for — teaching me lessons, I never set out to learn.