Thursday 23 April 2015

The Batch Party

And again. Another party. I am sitting on the couch, broken. It's our batch party,EI batch party finally happening and where else do they do it these days? A pub? Dark with florescent light crisscrossing you, loud super loud music that almost tears my ear drums apart. And People, of course they are supposed to lose their mind in such cacophony and dance away like some mad men. Argh, my dress is vibrating now. They have asked me to come and join them on the dance floor, but how can I ? And I don't blame them for whatever they might be thinking of me. I have come here, done my duty as a part of this batch and now that the work is done, can I please go home? I am ready to skip the tempting lunch that is waiting to be eaten when this sweaty dance floor takes some rest. I want to run away as quietly and as quickly as possible. People are coming time to time, how good of them to be giving me company, I like the comfort it gives, someones presence when you find yourself just with yourself. But then they are meant to dance, and go away, and I have to let them with a smile. I cursed myself but couldn't quite help the tears that trickled down my face. A girl noticed and I lied it was coz' of the high amount of noise this place is producing, although I myself don't know the reason. It happens each time I am here. Is it coz’ this dark room screams my failures? Dance really? There was a time I used to be a pro when it came to classical. So I am sure it's not my clumsy dance, there are so many here, who just raise their hands up in the hair, move it forward and back with a little shake of head not necessarily in sync and balancing weight once on the left and then on the right foot; and they seem to pretty much enjoy themselves even when its clearly not a dance form. Dad was right, why to be someone you are not? Daddy because of becauses. Because I didn't want to be the girl who they think is filled with attitude. Because I wanted to contribute my bit to the class. Because I was excited to dress up, only I didn't know I would be left shy by the time I am done with the whole decorating yourself business. Because this was I thought one last time and wrongly judged that I was prepared to bear the torture this place offers me, without fail, time and again. Because of friends and relationships. Because of becauses as I said.


No one has come to me for some time now and I think I am really going to doze off. This couch has got a nice cushioning and I have my head resting on it. As I write this and feel the warmth of the soft cushiony side of the sofa, I am alarmed by this bearded guy that lunch is ready. Finally! I sighed. No not coz’ I was hungry, indeed I had lost my appetite three hours back. But coz’ it was going to be over. Some people are just not made for such things. Like for example, you see there, that girl who is going to be Miss Eve for today, she has been been dancing as if the world doesn't exist and it’s her and only her present. The pub is her home, as if. She is made for this set up. Me? I feel like an alien unable to grasp the rhythm of these flickering lights. After the last track of noise, DJ left the station with a soothing song hovering in the air, ‘ yaad aayenge yeh college days...’ (my special request, twas’). Some cried, some sighed, some consoled while some like me had no idea of what was going. I just wanted a soothing relatable song to end the party with, however I was hardly feeling the lyrics. The idea of separation hasn't hit my chords yet. I wonder why.

Coming back to the party, people read out anonymously written confessions where one guy mentioned he doesn't quite understand me. Me and him, we have so strong principles and opinions of our own, we are bound to not have very cool air between us. His writing that hardly had an impact upon me, but the fact that sometimes even I don’t get me, is what is disturbing. You know like who am I ? How can a practical girl be called the crying kid too. No doubt I was given the title Drama Queen. I might be one. After the Miss Eve and Mr Eve were presented to the deserved candidates, we proceeded out, everyone clicking themselves with everybody else. The headache and heel ache was so strong that I could have killed anybody then and there, had they tried to have any sort of argument with me. All I wanted was to go home, be in my comfy wear and to sleep into my dreams. The stoppage at Ankita’s where I changed into slippers, gave me a relief. Who the hell came with this whole idea of heels? How do those celebrities dance in these stuff? Even mine were quality enough, I guess in INR 3700, one is bound to buy good stuff only, still they hurted like hell. I scrutinized peoples cell phones and camera to check the blue dress me, if by chance, and hurray, at least the pics came out okayish enough to keep for long.


Now I am back home, in my lowers and a loose T finishing off what I had scribbled during the party. The only feelgood part of the whole thing was, all of the people present really seemed to have enjoyed the last party together; Days of discussions  and bunks had finally paid off. Cheers to that.


Here I am signing off, giving a little massage to my swollen feet thinking does everybody think so much? care so much? Or is it just pms talking?


Pakhi