Momentary Lapses of the Unintelligible

Sitting on one of those Nature Comittee Benches, legs stretched out conveniently, sipping the ‘not too bad’ slightly too sweet hostel tea, some vaguely familiar music playing in the background and watching a couple of second years dribble a football around for no particular reason, and I think quite cheesily…this here is a moment.

Then again, I am quite capable of coming up with them in retrospect…extra time of a slushy rain swept football match, played in borrowed red spiked shoes two sizes too big, then the goal…we’ve all hugging after that and toppling over into the mud… of course when it happened it was all a blur…which in itself is kinda perfect. Though they always need to slow it down in sport movies for the effect.

There are however the really ironic ones that I wish I would not notice – one really bad moot court later, walking back to hostel and from the most inconspicuous of places – the bloody gym, one hear Eminem taunting ‘you get one shot, one opportunity …that’s all you’ve got…” and, I am not making this up…honest!

There are also the ones, that are truly of one’s own making…for example the fact – that every time I am in a metro train, a part of me keeps waiting for the moment – when the ceiling of the train will be ripped open to reveal our protagonists who will then proceed to have a compulsive cool samurai fight across the length and breadth of the compartment. Sigh, I am still sadly waiting for that one.

Moments, when you notice them are nice. As in, the thing with moments…is that they kinda make the clock stop – there is always a ton of stuff floating around in the background of your head but when you see a moment, you go “WoW! Stop, rewind“…and then again “WoW”. I know I am explaining it in a really bad Bill & Ted impersonation, but the truth is I am glad I see moments…real or otherwise.

Cheering Up…Or Failing That…

What I wouldn’t give to just give up…to stop dragging my feet listlessly through endless days of inescapable drudgery and just throw up my hands and say ‘ENOUGH’, ‘I AM DONE’, ‘SCREW MULTITASKING’. Forgive my language but whining always tends to stir all that is melodramatic and cliched in me.

As it stands I have spent the last few days, nay the week feeling generally sorry for myself. I’ve developed that particular trait so much so that it is almost an art form now and it generally involves being kinda snappy and pessimistic. Some people who may claim to know me may point out that being snappy and pessimistic isn’t very much different from my normal behavior but that’s just crap. I am snappy and full of pessimism yes, but I usually try to maintain the veneer of cheery false optimism that makes life far more congenial at the small cost, of course, of being labeled delusional.

It sucks being stuck in the depths of depression and the pits of gloom and other cliche maligned places and I have tried almost every other cheer up remedy from listening to my Inspi songs,impromptu eating binge with my friends, watching back to back episodes of some inane show, reading up all the Inspi stuff that I could get my hands on, dropping all of it on my parents in a ‘Help Me, I am Your Only Child and Though I should be all grown up I am still gonna act like a five year old and cry Mamma’ phonecall… Yep, I did it all. but the thing is NOTHING SEEMS TO WORK. And I can’t afford to be Blue!!! I have work, damn it…tons and mega tons of it.

I see the cycle of course. I feel blue so I don’t do the work; then I feel blue that I didn’t do the work; So I don’t do more work because I am feeling blue over the work I didn’t do before that. (Okay so this made much more sense in my head)

SO STOP, I say. Stop feeling so freakin’ blue and sorry for yourself!!! (waits to feel different…feet still drag listlessely through several inescapable drudgery filled moments)

Nope no miracle cure in sight and yet I must admit I am done trying to cheer myself up. This is it. I give up. SCREW CHEERING UP. I am just gonna go do my work now.

Awful

I was going to crib about the A-awful exam paper I wrote. About how I messed it up, and messed it up badly! I was going to crib about how Awful I felt after the exam, that I didn’t even feel the sickening high that comes post depressive paper where amidst cheery pop music you decide that you are going to do better the next time. I was going to crib about how I just curled up after that on my bed drinking way too much Lemon Tang and watching back to back episodes of Gossip Girl (Sympathy T.V anyone?) and how I woke up late today with no work done and one hell of a lemon tang – gossip girl combined hangover…going Ugh…Ugh…Ugh

But my darling mum just called to tell her wayward child how utterly she does not care if the said child screwed up her paper and she can hardly wait to have her wayward daughter back home so that she can fill her up with family gossip and home cooking.

I’ve got three more awful papers to go and three more awful study sessions to go with them and I am just dreading it. But I know it’s going to be okay and that’s a start.

___________________________________________________________________

Ps: Oh and Gossip Girl…Yeah…I like Chuck…That’s Right…Chuck! There is something fundamentally wrong in saying that out loud. I am victim of the bad boy act. Sigh.

—————-
Now playing: Death Cab for Cutie – The Sound of Settling
via FoxyTunes

Incidents of Inconsequentiality

 

 

 

                                                              He was middle aged, probably a little younger than my dad, wearing a badly crumpled blue shirt and cream pants. He’d buttoned the shirt right into his neck and it looked like the buttons would pop if he so much as took a deep breath. Short, balding and utterly tragic.  Not by his appearance, mind you, but simply by what he did for a living.

 

                                                            He was the Frequently Asked Question answering living breathing version of a popular legal website. He was part of the standard package – a default option. The university prescribes to our website we send our representative to explain the intricacies of using it to you. The problem of course arises as there aren’t any real intricacies – it is a search tool. How hard could it be? And so the few who turned up for the demonstration were the odd stragglers – the one who’d been bribed into attending with the promises of plates of Maggie or a free coke.

 

                                                                   And the point is the website was as alien to him, as it would be for any first time user. In the sense, he had never actually used it for any real reason. He’d probably been given a crash course on How to Instruct On How to Use the Legal Website and send out to meet the pack of hyenas.

 

 

                                                So there he was, sincere in his efforts to explain how to use the website to a group of people who could care less. People messaging, laughing, staring off into space, looking at their watches; We weren’t actually being rude on purpose, it was just so useless that no one could even fake interest.

 

                                         And you could see, that he got that too. That no one really cared about what he was saying, that he could probably slip in a verse of how the optimum way to use the website was when one was naked and no one would even blink. It was sad, to watch him, stuttering at the sight of blank faces, desperately pleading for questions in the cold silence. It was sad that this poor middle-aged man had to do such a thankless job.

 

I am not trying to sound high and mighty, like some better off individual who is looking down at the lesser mortals and trying to analyse their position. In fact it was one of those days …just after you’d been bested out of something and were feeling blue anyways, that this demonstration happened. And I guess what I felt for that total stranger with his crumpled blue shirt and cream pants applied to me at the point…

It  sucks to be inconsequential .

—————-
Now playing: west life – coast to coast
via FoxyTunes