War

Inaction

He sat there staring at a blank terminal screen. He tried to remember exactly what it was that he was going to do next.

“Wow, this Twitter and Facebook habit has totally eliminated my ability to concentrate,” he thought.

Instinctively looking at the clock, he was alarmed at what time it was.

“2:31am… Wow, It’s tomorrow now… November 28th. Hmm.”

He smiled at the embarrassing memories. He remembered looking at the lone curled lock of hair that used to hang from the side of her forehead; the ill-fitting skirt; the smile. He remembered having conversations with her and getting distracted by the cuteness of her ever so slightly snubbed nose. He remembered being the new boy.

1997 was a confusing year. A new city, a new school, a new set of friends. The itinerant lifestyle had made it easier to compartmentalize relationships with people. It wasn’t something he preferred. Someone once had quipped that children of IAS officers were successful in life because of their ability to make friends quickly, and he had accepted that as a commiseration.

“A quick log in into the social networks I guess…”.

It had become a habit — any empty moment was occupied by “socializing” with a website. At least he had an excuse this time.

“Dear Julie, wish you a very Happy Birthday! Hope “ he wrote.

Backspace.

“Dear Julie, wish you a very Happy Birthday!”

It was 4 years since he’d broken up with her. It was painful but amicable; and they’d both moved on since. They had been great friends once, and they stayed friends since. The breakup left him in a strange place where he wasn’t quite sure exactly how much affection is too much. Especially on a Facebook wall. Better safe than sorry, he guessed.

He met Julie at a party in the first year of college. Common t-shirt colors led to a conversation about what else was in common. Not a lot, just states where they grew up, Zodiac signs and an uncanny interest in Lucky Ali. He liked her from the first time he met her, but he remembered her because of the irony in her birthdate. It was exactly the same as Divya’s.

“…Sharma. Divya Sharma. Roll Number 32” he remembered, revisiting a seldom-visited corner of his memories. Those memories were forgotten for good reason. Unlike college, which was a blast, he didn’t quite liked it when he joined Crescent Public.

The new high school was an absurdity. He had never met a bunch of more cacophonous kids before. Maybe this is a culture thing, but he’d much rather go back to his well-behaved alma-mater back in Bokaro. And somehow it seemed she knew exactly what he was thinking.

“You’ll get used to it. We’re not all that bad.”

“Well, I…”

“I’m Divya, by the way.”

He quickly found out that she was right. It was loud, but most of the kids were alright. More importantly, he had his first interaction with someone at school, and it was Divya. Amidst all the newness, he desperately needed some sense of familiarity, some sense of closeness. And when he found none, Divya became an easy substitute, even if she was that girl who sat in front of him and sometimes said Hi during break, even if he couldn’t come up with a single word to respond with. Weeks go by quickly when you have a pile of unfamiliar homework and a cute little puppy crush. And then one day Dad walks into the study room.

“Son, we have some good news. Mom mentioned how you were having trouble fitting in at your current school. We talked to the folks at this other school we think you’ll really like. I know it’s 3 weeks into the school year, but they’re willing to let you join.”

Lather Rinse Repeat. New uniform, new school bus, new school anthem that he would have to mumble through pretending to know the words.

The new school turned out to be yet another experience. It was still different from the Jesuit education imparted to him over the last 10 years and 4 schools, but he quickly found himself making a connection with the place. New interests were kindled, new friends were made, life went on.

And yet, the ponderous doodle on his notebook still said “Divya”. With a dot repeatedly penciled in so many times that it made a hole into the next page. It had been 3 months. He had new friends now! November 28th came by, he had astronomy camp at school that night. While everyone laid there on the school ground looking at the stars, he lay there thinking about parallel universes.

“#[Share]#” “Your wall message has been posted.”

“Hmm. I wonder where she is now….” he murmured as he typed in “Divya Sharma” into the search box. “There’s probably a million of them, hope I don’t have to wade through this for hours.”

Five minutes later, he was staring at the profile picture of the Divya Sharma he knew, with the same nose and the very same dangling lock of hair. In her wedding dress, with her new husband.

He smiled and stared at the browser window for a while. He clicked the “Request as friend” button, and began writing an introductory message. For some reason, the words after “Hey! Is this the Divya Sharma from Crescent Public School? Oh, btw, Happy Birthday!”

“Hey! Is this the Divya Sharma from Crescent Public School?”

“Hey!”

He smiled again, canceled the request and closed the browser window.

Some memories were best left untouched.

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Brown skinned firangs

Somebody at work spoke up today, “What’s with so much news and attention about the London attacks; when no one really cared much about the terrorist attack at Ayodhya just two days ago?”

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nyet

No, I'm not dead yet. I'm just a little occupied with gathering enough will power to get myself to study, so we'll have to wait for the doctor episode a while.

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good bad ugly

Oh man, I'm tired... Life is just so hectic these days. Let's try categorizing them:

Good: The TV's back. 2 days after it going kaput, Dad opened it up on the dining table, used the vacuum cleaner to suck out all the dirt, and replaced the fuse wire that had blown. Some of the advantages in life when your father is a news-and-cricket-hungry electronics engineer.

My birthday was a really cool day. My cousin sister called up all the way from Salt Lake City in the US - it was so cool to talk international! Then many other calls came in, IM messages popped up all over my computer screen. Woke up in the morning with a very happy mood (this doesn't happen too often), and Mom gives me a really sweet geeky birthday card. I come back after brushing my teeth, and there's a huge chocolate cake on my table! Mom had kept it in the fridge, and I hadn't noticed! Well, I got dressed and stuff, and blew out 20 candles. It was almost like blowing out an entire bush fire in one breath. Man, I feel old. Then I had cake and Payesh for breakfast. In the evening, went to Ashish's place, and from there we went to a school reunion / Valentine's / general party. We reached "fashionably late" (that's supposedly what people call 10:30 in the night). It was fun meeting all my school friends again.