i have been through a lot the last couple of days. and i am not sure i will emerge stronger from the whole thing.
but first, the good news. i just watched dil chahta hai, again. i suppose it is one of those rare movies you can watch ten times, learn all the dialogues by heart, and yet feel happy repeating them during the eleventh. i have always wondered why i love the books and movies i love. i always thought it was because i could relate to the characters, be them and see the story unfolding as if it was my own. i still think so.
there is no one person in dil chahta hai like that. maybe the reason i like it so much is because i can identify with most of the main characters. with sid because of what i am. with akash because of what i would like to be. with sameer because his story seems like mine. and with shalini…
my mother was the eighth of nine children. with so many of them, i don’t think it is fair to expect all of them to be as pure as freshly-fallen snow. some turned out quite well, big businessmen, honest priests, lawyers, bankers. and a few went wayward, became good-for-nothing drunkards. i suppose that was reason enough for her to resolve that she would do everything in her power to make sure her kids didn’t turn out like them.
i was a fairly good student. but i was also good at other things. they were encouraged as long as they did not interfere with my studies. my father never had to bribe me into studying. he is a rare breed. someone who wants his kids to be independent, in every way. i was raised to have my own opinions. i read the papers. i read books. all kinds of them. i devoured everything that came my way, however boring they were. i do realise i was pretty stupid then, pig headed to be precise, when i continued plodding through a book even if it bored the hell out of me. it was like a matter of honour for me, i suppose.
my marks, which were in the 90s in primary and junior school, followed a gradual downward curve through the 80s till i reached high school, culminating in a 79.8% average in the 10th boards. the reason wasn’t hard to figure out. the amount of time i dedicated to studying hadn’t changed all those years, even though the syllabus had continued to grow every year. and my mother was one worried woman. she saw in the declining marks her son going down the same road that her wayward brothers had taken. in her effort to salvage her son’s future, she went a bit over the top.
because my father allowed it, i could keep my door locked. but my mother was came knocking all too often, to make sure i was with my books. i sure was. though not the books she would have liked to see with me. it was an interesting period for me. harold robbins was quite unputdownable. so was grisham, cussler and clancy. and my mother’s constant poking of her nose into what was my sanctuary just irritated me; the more she did it, the more the teenager asserted his independence, and acted like a teenager.
she didn’t know what to do. and my marks suffered because i would rather do poorly in exams than see her happy, especially after all that she put me through. in her desperation, she resorted to violence, beating me with the belt and poking my palm with a sharp pencil till the point broke. i wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry. though the tears flowed freely when i was alone in the room at night, i knew that i wouldn’t be happy till i was out of the house. it wasn’t my home any more.
my emotions were one thing i learnt to control. not exactly control. i considered my emotions my own, something so intensely private that i would hide it from the world. i could laugh when i felt like crying. i could smile when i was in pain. i vowed never to be jealous. and anger was taken care of by the time i left college.
i am afraid now. it will pass, hopefully. i failed my actuarial exam. but one thing i have never worried about was ending up good for nothing, like my mother feared. i knew that passing was a long shot, considering how little effort i had out in. it had to happen. i am writing the same paper again in august and i would be much more confident then. if i am afraid, it is of being alone.
i thought i had my emotions under control. but one thing i was happy to let wild was love. i don’t suppose it can be controlled. you cannot know when it happens. and when you do realise that you have fallen, there is nothing you can do about it. and that is why i can relate to shalini. “pyaar faisle se nahin kiya jaata.“
i do feel sorry for myself right now. one of these days, i will snap out of it. i do think i am almost out of it now. and i can’t thank some of my friends enough for it.
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