Open Dialogues

“My Ass is open. The heart is not.”

He could not have been any more honest. 

And I understood. But I wanted it. I really, really wanted it. 

But what could I do? 

***

“What is it that you wanted so much?” 

She asked with her eyes peering in deep as if she could see through the flesh, looking straight at the dark soul that rested underneath.

“I wanted the next big heartbreak.” 

I said without thinking.

“We really could have been that—the talk of the town. We would have looked amazing. The sex was awesome. We could have just created the most toxic, beautiful world - the two of us. A passion that amounts to poison. And after a few months, as it always goes with toxic bubbles, it would pop, and we would have felt the pain. I would have felt the pain, and for once, I would feel alive.”

I smiled.

***

“Pushing past the limits, tripping on hallucinogenics.”

“We accept the love we think we deserve.”

***

I was already exhausted with the feeling of longingness. All this, wanting my emotions to be validated, reminded me of my early twenties. Heartbreaks of youth, including the unrequited love I felt every second day was fun in the university. Now, it seemed very passe.

So I lied to myself. 

I said, “let’s be friends.”

***

“Why do you think you deserve a heartbreak?”

She always had that look. Like Dumbledore looking at Harry. Soft eyes that could see through the clouded thoughts.

“Every moment is fleeting, and that’s why it is beautiful. Would it still be beautiful if it were not to end? Anyways, isn’t it better that way? For things to end? I would never know how to keep it moving.”

I tried to smile.

“So, it’s just about the control? You know it’s going to end anyway. You know you don't really want it. So why not it just end the way you want?”

Her face was the same.

“Well, at least then, I will have my story.”

ON BIRYANI KA ALOO AND OTHER THINGS UNSAID

Baklol

/bʌklɒl/

adjective, informal noun

A stupid person.

It is generally used by the people of Bihar and Eastern Uttar Pradesh in India.

***

We would look at the world together, but did we see each other in our worlds?

I still stare at the world move by past me. I see so many things. I see what life could have been if we both were looking at it together. I see that I stare alone now.

What do you see when you look around? Do you see me around? Do you want to see me around?

***

I tried walking out into the world again. It took a while to build the pace. Baby steps. The hesitations of moving on bore heavy on my mind, but one cannot wait forever! It was nice to know that I can do it all over again.

I came. I saw. I conquered.

I threw the trophy away.

I didn’t want it anymore.

***

Everybody knows where they don’t want to eat; nobody knows where they want to eat! However, there is that moment when you crave for that ice cream or that scrumptious cake — or, as it is in my case — the aloo of the Kolkata wala biryani. And it is in that moment – when you have realised – what you want, and when you get it – do you realise how much you love it. The unabashed satisfaction that fills you up; it is the most amazing feeling of them all.

***

I still can’t move on. I tried. I really did. In fact, the more I tried, the more I realised that these things are complicated and that I am really shallow to grasp the depth of the complexities of human relationships.

When I see the world around me, I see a moderately happy set up where I am standing alone. There are pretty people. There are smart people. They are all there somewhere in the periphery. But, where are you?

It took me so long, to arrange every single thing into perspective, and then when I looked at the picture again, it was missing you.

***

Not many people like to see an aloo in their biryani. But, I like it. That piece of potato is a reminder that not everything needs to be done by the rules. Your biryani needn’t be the most perfectly cooked one – from Lucknow or Hyderabad; sometimes, it’s just the one from Kolkata – where a poor Nawab had no resources to buy meat and decided to put in some potatoes instead.

I don’t really know if the Nawab really ever liked it, but I guess he sort of made peace with it. It is just a potato after all, but it balances out the heat of the spices, adds a bit of sweetness and gives a nice soft bite. It makes a poor man’s biryani look fuller and loaded. It was never meant to be perfect; it was meant to work well – and boy, it did!

***

I don’t want them pretty. I don’t want them smart. Heck! I don’t even want them perfect. The choices that matter are the ones not made out of knowing what you don’t want; they are made when you know what you want. And, I just want to act silly, make lame jokes, and say something stupidly provocative. Because, when I do that, you look at me with an “is-he-for-real” look, and then you blurt, “baklol!”

I want that.

I want my biryani ka aloo!

*** *** ***


These things shall always remain unsaid because we decided to not talk about certain things. There is so much that I want to say, but I won't because I do not want to stress you out. Sometimes, I don't even know what we can talk about anymore. But hey! We can eat. So, when we are eating the sushi (and I enjoy sushi a lot!), let us at least think if we want that aloo in the biryani. You can have the rice and the meat. I will be happy if I just get my aloo.

No Trump This Time

*****

My life is dedicated to attempting to understand the cause and process of various things that happen across the world, and I try to understand them without any pre or post conceived judgements on the subject. It is an attempt to understand the ‘other side of the story’. To expand the greys between the black and white... to look at something or someone, and understand where that thought or idea comes from. Good, bad or ugly – it never matters how the idea is. All I need to do is understand it. Look at the world from another perspective.

Living this life is not easy. It is a curse.

Why? Because when you train yourself for the process, you learn to understand every side of the argument, however brutal.  And some ideas can be brutal. They can be destructive. But, for the benefit of my study, I cannot pursue the subject with that prejudice. Yet, I do not justify any of my subjects, I do not speak for them. Justification has an inherent judgement constructed into the word itself. One justifies what one considers correct. I only try to understand. And in every step of that process, I am aware of the consequences of the actions of all my subjects.

*****

We were lying naked. It was intimate. Perhaps, intimate enough to breach the topic that things were not the best between the two of us. In that candid moment, you agreed. In a fraction of a thought, we had decided to split, acting on months of subdued thoughts. We had tried to make it work out. I think you agree today that I tried more than you. But you did try. You tried pretty hard to make it work.

*****

 “You don’t understand what I go through”, she screamed loud enough to shake us all. “To love someone who does not love you back enough, it is painful. It is suffocating. Yet, I cannot leave him, because I love him. It has driven me to a point where I feel like I have no self-respect anymore. It has carved me from the inside. You don’t know what that feels like”, she screamed her guts out.

I don’t. I can’t understand what you are going through. I was dumped just as we were about to have sex. I felt so unwanted and yet I lay there naked. I have no self-respect. I should have just left, but going back to an empty bed and crying out loud in the lonely hollowness made less sense than the last hug. I have no self-respect.

*****

A few months back, we started fooling around again. We were just having “fun”. It was mutual and consensual. I thought that we both had made mistakes in the past and we had matured enough to correct them. I also thought that you had begun to appreciate me better. For almost a month, we had a great time together.

And then again, in just one moment, you called it off again. You needed time. I understand that. You needed the time, but of course, you stressed that I should not be hopeful.

I understood that too. But, was I just supposed to accept it? Maybe. Just wait, to never have you ever. But wait, yes. But you never asked me to wait. How could you? You are too nice. You wanted me to move on. Not linger.

Only if it was so easy to move on. Like, you could dictate even that to me.

*****

I attempt to understand everything. Everything, without any pre or post conceived judgement.

I understand that you cannot compel someone to feel in any particular way. I am trying to understand that people can change in a moment. I am trying to understand why singular elements decide for the many. How you can decide for us? Why I don’t matter anymore? I am trying to understand “the heart wants what it wants”.

You thought loneliness brought us back together. I had agreed. Had loneliness kept us together all along? Were we building false hopes? Were you building false hopes for me? Was I reading too much into it? I am trying to understand.

I brought it all on myself. I understand that too.

****

I don’t drink tea, but there is a jar of tea leaves and sugar kept outside on my kitchen shelf. I don’t use telegram but I have the app on my phone. There is a cup made up of a bamboo on my table. It leaks but I have it. I never really cared about saving water, but I close the faucet when I am brushing.

Yes, I am supposed to move on. Like, you could dictate even that to me.

*****