Our first conversation...

I was holding onto the plastic chair. She was walking over from near the bell. I knew I wanted to talk to her. I didn't want to start off with anything phony. I had no other reason for talking to her, except that I really wanted to talk to her. I was half an ass off the chair, certain I would make an ass of myself. Then as she and her friends were about to pass by me, I got up with a jerk, and must have scared her when I jumped into the line she walked on and said,
"Hi (her name)!"
She stops. I was cold. She was cool. But I say,
"I wanted to talk to you."
I smile a stupid smile, which, I must say, did little to hide the fact that I was turning red despite my skin. Meanwhile, no reply from her, except a slight shake of the head, granting me permission to proceed.
I try again. I state the obvious.
"I know this seems stupid."
Poor delivery again. I'm losing points here. I still have the forced stupid smile on my face.
I go again.
"How do I start talking with you?"
That was clever, I think, but I screwed it in delivery. My confidence does not exist.
But then she speaks for the first time. She says,
"Hi! I'm (her name)!"
I am happy. But, that doesn't mean I warmed to the situation.
"Hi! I'm Neil!"
Acknowledgment from her in the most discreet of nods.
My brain is scanning for clever ideas to prevent a still born conversation. I don't get any. Realisation strikes, that this is where this conversation has to end.
I conclude.
"I don't think this is working. I'll try again tomorrow!"
I give my trademark two thumbs up and scram to the safety of the plastic chair. I collapse onto it, and sit bent over, covering my face.

Did I not screw it up?

The Urge for Female Company

"Why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?"


I didn't say that. Joel from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind said for me something that I've always felt. That's my sorry state. I've been falling in love with all sorts of women and girls and the sad part is I never could find myself comfortably talking to them. I've been living for nearly 23 years now and the total time I have spent talking with girls other than somebody related to me, is probably an hour in a long life. That too, most of it was 'do you know where somebody is' or 'can you hold my computer while I'm gone' kind of stuff. Never a single interesting conversation. And I'm a lesser person for that!

I have other problems too and like my friends say, I must be stupid prioritising this problem at such a crucial point in my life. But then, only I know how much this affects me. I might get a job after all, but this is a problem I need to solve once and for all. It's about my internal harmony.


"If only I could meet someone new. I guess my chances of that happening are somewhat diminished, seeing that I'm incapable of making eye contact with a woman I don't know."

That's Joel again and that's the bigger problem. My case is probably a bit more aggravated than Joel's. I'm incapable of making eye contact with even women I know. While hanging out with friends, if one of their girfriends come over, I find my eyes automatically searching for a nice piece of plaster on the wall opposite to where the girl is standing. And I'll be mute for just as much time as the girl is around, answering mostly in single syllables when questions are directed towards me. This is an uneasiness I chose to avoid and I find myself preferring to being alone in the computer lab, rather than be with friends and risk one of their girlfriends walking over.
This is just a small part of my problem. It affects me in every walk of my public life. In private, I'm even more affected by the sheer mystery of the pleasure that talking to a girl would be. Often I feel the urge to sit next to a girl. I feel the urge to talk to a girl. This defines a good percentage of the depressions that overcome me these days.

I fantasize stopping in the corridor one of the new juniors in college, and simply trying to strike a conversation with any of them. I probably have someone in mind too. But knowing me, I'll in all probability drop this plan, like all the other plans I've dropped before this. God help me!

I know I am painting a sorry picture. But this is the kind of truths that I wanna shout out. If I can't do this here, then I don't know what use my blog is to me.

glorious failure...

Is there glory in failure?

I thought I'd write a coming of age novel about how great a person I am. That was the flaw. I didn't write what I should've written. I tried putting in words the image of me that others have. I recognise the greatness of art, now better than ever. I see the reason why it becomes great art. It is about truth and brutal honesty. It is about pouring out the darkest corners of your mind and the fuzzy picture that is formed of the dark and the bright parts of your mind... that that gets to be art. I haven't grown enough as a person to really own up all the things that goes on in my head. I am toiling towards such a time. When that time comes, I'll be released!

My failure to write the novel is a shame for me. Especially after seeking publicity for it through this blog and other means. That was a phony bit in me. There are subtle hints of it left. Or maybe it is big chunks after all and it is my reluctance to admit it. The fact that I'm writing this may hint towards some of it. But, I feel this has to be the way it is done. A conscious attempt towards purifying yourself of all phoniness.

My life took the downward spiral ever since I got obsessed with getting rid of the phoniness in me. I won't say I am better off now, that I did this. But I know if I hold on, redemption is just round the corner.

It is impossible to say just what I mean! - T.S. Elliot