In PG, there was an economics professor who really made the effort to know each and everyone of his students. He succeeded too.
Once he asked each one of us to stand in front of the class and speak about our dreams. There were many who wanted to be good husbands, good fathers, and good human beings. My turn came and I told them - I want to work hard, grow rich, see the world and die traveling. The smiles were forced and the applause wasn't as deafening as the one "a good husband/father" received.
He also took a personality test. There were four quadrants and depending on your attitude and beliefs, you will fall in one of the four quadrants. Out of 70 students, only two students came in one quadrant. Another test was done the following month, the results changed for a lot of people. But those two students came in the same quadrant again, and they were the only two.
The professor told those two students that people in that quadrant would never follow rules. They will be a problem to any organization, family or society. He told us that their parents don't understand them, and as such they don't get along with them too.
Those two students - one was me and another was a very close friend. We didn't talk for almost a year; we were both silent and moody. We got to know each other in the 2nd year only, but became the closest of friends very soon. The only two in the whole batch of about 200 students who could talk about Marilyn Manson, Guy de Maupasant, Edgar Allan Poe and Drugs.
Maybe we went too far, maybe we didn't. But we never knew that one night, he'll pick me up from the road, bloodied and lying unconscious. We never knew that I would stuff so many pills in those momos. I was riding my friend's kinetic all alone and he was riding his scooter behind me. I've never imagined how it would have ended if he had overtaken me or if we had taken different routes. It was quite late and the flyover at AIIMS was under construction.
I was in the hospital for a month, another month in my room, bedridden. Every night I used to wake up screaming in pain, the painkillers couldn't handle much of the pain in my head. The nurses would then increase my dose and I would fall asleep after that. I should have learnt my lesson right then and there. But I didn't and I took another chance and nearly overdosed.
Something happened after that, something snapped and I took a decision. I gave up everything - the pills, the syrups, the joints, and the works. I haven't touched anything after that; it's been almost 3 years. I drink only on weekends these days and I'm quite happy with that. And I'm content with my music, with my books and with the few women who have enriched my life. Those lovely women who have crossed paths with me and taught me a lot of things I have never ever come across in those hundreds and hundreds of books I've read.
I just smile these days when teenagers and college kids talk about sex, drugs and rock n' roll. Sometimes, I think we take "It's my life" too seriously. Sometimes, I want to tell them my story, the things I've done. Sometimes, I want them to know that it's not all about our own lives. Sometimes, I want to tell them, "Go on dreaming, be free, be wild but make sure you don't hurt the ones you love - your friends, lovers and family. Without them, there's no life."
Sometimes I feel I'm old, sometimes I feel I've just mellowed. But whatever it is, I'm at peace with myself. And one day, I'll tell you everything about my life and my dreams. I'll tell everything if you would look into my eyes and hold my hand.
10 comments:
Hey Zypsy, I know what you mean!
That's my dream too. I want a excellent career, make a pile of money, read a hell lot, travel like theres no tomorrow and die when I'm 100.
AN excellent ca.. :))
hello elf:-)
btw, what's ca??
really nice post...being at peace with urself is actually the most important thing...if that is not there then nuth feels good...and its gr8 that u have that now!!!;-)
Candid confessions!!
wen's ur next post coming up?...btw,changed my URL...its "smokingsentiment" not smokingsentiments
What were you so afraid of that you had to run away?
jasmine, i think you are referring to my first love letter in another post, right?
well, at that age i always thought of girls as some kind of angels, so delicate and beautiful. and the more beautiful they are, the more difficult it was for me to talk with them or approach them. just the age of innocence, or maybe i just grew up late:-)
this is a very very nice post.
Post a Comment