Summer of 2005
December 2009
December 2012
May 14, 2015
December 7, 2017
June 13, 2018
July 24, 2018
November 25, 2018
December 12, 2018
August 22, 2019
August 25, 2019
October 30, 2019
November 16, 2019
January 26, 2020
February 29, 2020
March 15, 2020
Thisis is a tryst through time, and why don't we start in the middle of everything?
It is July 24, 2018.
Rock Beach, Pondicherry.
This is the midpoint of everything in my life. Every event. Every emotion. A sort of a sacred balance. A sort of existentially crucial moment within the tiny amount of my life contained in this, whatever you might want to call it. The first time I get drunk, the first time I scream into the waters. I scream till I’m tired. Hell, I even throw rocks into the sea. The ocean was barely visible, just minutes to midnight. One month of college and the reality was hitting hard. I was fucked and it wasn’t the phase I was expecting. It was more of a this-is-reality-college-sucks-you-suck-the-people-here-suck-you’ll-be-alone-till-death-with-no-one-who-really-understands-and-even-those-who-do-would-leave-because-you-suck. I realized that if I don’t change, I was going to be too late. I realise cant remain this vile, cruel, lazy, pessimistic, loves-to-be-depressed, unstable and let it takes its toll on my people. But this is where another phase begins. Downfall or not, only time will tell.
This is where we go back to the beginning.
It is summer,2005. Kovalam Beach, Trivandrum. The details are really messy, but to my knowledge that was the first time I was seeing so much water at the same place. So much water that I knew I couldn’t measure. Hell, I couldn’t even see where it ended. But how I ended up there being a tragic story, it didn’t damper upon this confusing experience I was having. There was yet again a painful episode between mum and dad. And its just called a painful episode because the five year old me only knew that their relationship was painful, maybe even before I was born and no details for I was only five and mum wanted me to have a pampered, happy childhood with a lot of sunshine, but miserably failed cause of me being over perceptive from day one. Now after that messy faded memories of pain this beach was a view I fell I love with. It was the soothing I needed, whatever the type it was only five year old me would know. After 30 minutes of standing there almost paralysed, a cousin starts to pull me towards it. That was when the first shot of fear hit. Fear of the endless. An hour later I managed to drench myself in the water, swimming wildly, my phobia for water forgotten temporarily. Now this fixed a pattern I still cant beat : the intense fear of what I love, for it may consume me forever. I begged my parents to take me back the next day, but not even after 15 years did I go back. Maybe one day I will visit again. It is December, 2009. Marina Beach, Chennai. My parents had another dramatic episode, and I being 10, slowly began to grasp the situation and that ended whatever was left of my childhood there. Buried forever. My parents ship me off to Chennai, for the Half Yearly holidays to distract me, if only for the time being. This is the time I fell in love with the realm of fiction and start my wild run hand in hand with illusions. The first time I watch a film in theatre: Avatar in 3D. Right after watching the film, my cousins take me to the beach. They kept talking about the film, they being older and being able to grasp the whole simple concept of it. But I guess, I was far too young. But not enough to be immersed in a world that offered more or more of the drug I wanted so badly. Cinema. And yes, it was quite a turning point. I had found a perfect path to leave my life into a far better creation. Its is 2012, my vague memory points to December. A beach near Tiruchendur Temple. That is me and dad. Next to each other at the beach. Complaining ,whining and yawning. We both really hated religion and the concept of rituals and other hokey pokey, as he used to call it. Now, there we were for a kid in the family, going through a series of rituals for the first shave of his hair and my dad was obliged to be there. We sit there talking and me realizing that no one would ever match the sarcasm he spoke with and the attitude he held towards anything at hand, till I meet a guy in college far later in 2018 (which is a story saved for later). me sitting on the sand and dad standing (well, he hated the sand and the mess), this is the first time I see my dad as someone that hasn’t only contributed to my pain, but someone who I respect, irrespective of how much I hate and as someone who loves me in spite of him never being able to express.. The first and the last real fun filled conversation I will ever have with him, my whole life. A memory to hold onto till my death. It is May 14, 2015, Marina Beach, Chennai The confused kid, still as confused as ever is 15, and thinks she knows the world. I stand with Mom at the beach, my cousins far away. Now this day was my real birthday, which only a couple people knew. Everyone wishes me a day later. My Dad pulled the final straw and I beg Mom to apply for divorce, which she would never. Another thing to add, I just got my board exam results and I was the topper, just as expected. 496/500. A proud day for my family, minus my dad whom I didn’t even speak to, even though I knew he would be the proudest man that day. Now balancing between the short term success of being a state topper and begging Mom to apply for divorce as a gift she should give me for scoring so high, the sun set on me. The first time in the mind of an innocent, not so innocent 15 year old who was mentally 25, a thought crosses: what if he dies? And I would find myself in a beach years later cursing myself for that thought. What a birthday. It is December 7, 2017, Rameshwaram Beach. It was the day. The day had finally arrived. The long held tradition of spreading a dead man’s ashes in holy waters, praying that it would wash his sins ways. I stand, water till my waist, alone. Alone because I wanted to do this in the absence of human presence. A private goodbye. A private moment to ask sorry, to bless forgivance. To wish a happy journey. Spreading his ashes was my turn, for my sister placed the first fire on his body to burn. That is when the reality of his death hits, to see his body in ashes, dark as his soul, which I realize; I loved it and hated in equal parts. I find myself choking, I don’t know in what struggling to ask sorry for not having shed a single drop of tear after he died, after almost wishing it upon him, which is a stature that should never touch any father. And I fail, after desperately trying to forgive him, for not being there. For not being a father. One conversation with a man called your father doesn’t balance out his absence in the rest of your life. And I desperately lacked one thing: Closure. Not even after a standstill of 10 minutes as I slowly dip my hand in the ocean, the water taking away what was left of him to slowly merge with the waters. There still wasn’t closure. It is June 13, 2018, Elliot’s Beach, Besant Nagar. The kid confused as fuck is 18. Me. Finally I join my second college, after being an unstable double minded fuck up who desperately doesn’t want to carry it into the next phase of my life. My college starts that day. I tell my cousin that I want to go to the beach for the first time after the December of 2017, after a strong decision to face the ash filled nightmares, now, as I condition myself to enter the new phase of life which would change the course of my life. The phase where I might meet friends for life, maybe the love of my life, maybe the career of my lifetime, where I didn’t want such a weight dragging me down. My cousin played ‘Experience’ by Luduvico Einaudi at the beach and on the way back home and that was something I held onto everytime I needed strength. As I sit on the beach listening to this music and watching my cousins jump into the sea, it gave a sense of freedom that was unparalleled in its wildness. A sense of being fearless creeped in, even though it was just an illusion, the illusion of being fearless was all I needed. Well, I was drenched and sandy all the way home and got an earful from my Mom.
Now, a slow fast forward to after the midpoint. Let's call it the third act.
It is November 25, 2018. Neelankarai, ECR This is a morning I wake up shivering in cold and Gasping for breath, body breaking out cold sweat. I tell myself that it wasn’t because of my chronic fear of the thunder and lightning that I keep seeing above me. I rush downstairs to my room picking up my bedsheets and the pillow I took up to the terrace to sleep under the blanket of stars. I did realize, too late, what this search for a starry night led into: a guarantee that I would never sleep in the terrace alone. Not after the thunder show I just saw. Its 4.00 a.m. I call a friend whom I almost hated, asking if we could go to the beach and in a matter of moments and a few phone calls the plan was fixed. He would come in 15 minutes, pick me up and we pick a few others from my class who wanted to join us. This being a spur in the moment plan, I realized after an hour, the degree of difference the five of us in the car held. Well, I didn’t really like anyone. But I rarely do, so it was justified. At this particular point of time, being a person with a mind I’d like to call a prison, I sit on the sands, gazing into the sky, hoping there would be no more thunder. As I keep up my facade of hating them, and being unable to connect really with anyone, I don’t really notice the tears spilling from my eyes. But they weren’t related to any of these emotions. It was about the endless and eternal nature of the oceans and that deep longing in me to find for myself something that matched it, not until a guy from that trip patted my shoulders telling me it was okay. Now, this guy was one of my old friends (why old? Maybe some other time) who knew me, at least a part of it. He found a dog for me to play with, which I have never ever done, till that day. That moment, seemingly uninteresting, held the power to melt me, even a little. Watching him play with the dog in one corner of the beach, alone, I slowly walked up to him and he took my hand placing it on the dog, and that brought so much happiness in a second that I felt whiplash. It was almost like two orphans finally met and felt the love they always longed for. Me and the dog. That was when I felt like every person around was the same dog. It was after almost afternoon that day when I realized that, that was the day my father had died a couple years ago. The joy from that single touch internalized and I still carry it.
It is December 12, 2018 Sunrise Avenue, ECR. This is the one time I had to pick someone’s pieces. The one time I cured someone. And it is the best fucking beach memory till date. I got the chance to save a person and I did, and nothing can make me feel like a human being. A call at 3.00 am after two months of no contact to ask if he could talk to me. He was the best memory from school. A friend, who is lost. Someone I have let go of, as it happens with everybody I cherish. The call shakes me to the core, when the it hits: he needed me to help him. To be there for him. As long as I can remember, my memory paints him in his most powerful, unmoving, strength I have seen in no one. Something I can mirror in myself. Despite years of talking all night about aliens, physics, past lives and endless debates we grew up, something kept me away from being in a relationship with him. It felt wrong and he couldn’t grasp why it felt wrong to me and there it meant an end to one of the last friendships I cherished. But as was my promise, i hold it and will hold it forever: I will always be there. I knowing the exact place to take someone who needs some love, take him to the beach. Immersed in silence, either of us speaking a word to the other, for the whole of 5 hours, just sitting next to each other staring into the waters, slowly watching the sun rise. This to me, is the purest form of love one could have for a friend and it was me giving him what I would have needed from a friend. A couple hours after sunrise, we slowly pack up, catch each others eye and smile. A honest smile after months. And quiet nod to say goodbye. And left. Not a single word was uttered, but there was love and comfort and the sense of being there for a human and nothing could have made my day better, as I went to a metro station, my heart so warm, towards the film festival that day, where I’d shed a lot of tears. Its still a mystery to me, what made him so sad that he actually asked for me. And it still remains that I have no clue where he is or what he does, not even after it being more than a year.
It is August 22, 2019. Akkarai Beach, ECR. This is me, experimenting in love and friendship. It is more of the friendship I cherish I shouldn’t have, but still one of the best things I have ever experimented on. It was a insight into human psyche, especially mine. Welcome to the first breakup story of my actual relationship. It took so much effort to convince myself that I shouldn’t block myself from love and friendships just because of having seen my parents and totally giving up on relationships and marriage. But I did and it turned out pretty awesomely comic. This can be called my 1st experiment, as I should have known from the result the first experiment gave that I should just give up. But I never, and its not me. And nothing is comparable to the one the 2nd experiment gave. I call them experiments because, even though the series of relationships is with the same person, I consider them as two different relationships and experiences with their own degree of emotions, not measured by success or failure. So yes, two different ones. Everything I go through and do, even if it is the same, its different everytime, with considerable improvement. Baby steps, that is how we grow. As we stand in the beach waiting for the sun to rise, Me being my over expressive self, fuck it up by not realising how scared that poor kid was, almost suffocated by me being me. I wear a tshirt with several shades of blue, and think to myself, “if emptiness had a colour, it would be the blue when I think of you”. Between the sense of lack of comfort we feel and the level of instability and fear it triggers in him, it is an incomplete beach experience as we left without even watching the sun rise. What I suddenly spiral into is a complete 10 days of utter confusion. It is August 25, 2019. Akkarai Beach, ECR. The best night in utter confusion starts with me being self destructive and planning to spend a night at the beach, me being the riskaholic Iam. This is the night that I spend in the beach puts me in the midst of the highest degree of thriller, drama and danger in my life which just one person knows, having read it out of my notes. There are no words to say, and it almost gives me nightmares. I get my slapped as I reach my room the next day by my roommate, now ex-roommate who tried to call so many times but couldn’t reach me because I switched off my phone. If Iam a sane person I wouldn’t possibly call this the best beach memory. But iam not sane in that context. Threats to my life thrill me beyond measure. It is October 30, 2019. Sunrise Avenue, ECR. This could be the most pacifying ocean experience. I got what I gave my long lost friend from school. The silent comfort of a person being there for you. Me still in intermittent confusions and lack of closure from experiment 1, which made me believe that my over expressive, intense nature was a fault in me to be changed or suppressed. Now, that was a trigger that led into the biggest emotional traps of my own mind, into a place where only I can enter and not return and no one else can enter. A place that can make me suicidal because of the intense feeling of loneliness that exists. There came in a recent friend, with whom I go to the beach every week, like routine. Like clockwork. Sitting on that shore, in silence, slowly eating the cheese maggi he cooked for me. What better way to make me smile. This is yet, another experience in pure friendship and comfort. After about an hour, he wakes up taking a stroll along the shoreline. I decide to slowly walk and take a pack of cheese nuggets he brought for me and slowly begin to walk, popping it into the air and trying to catch it with my mouth. What I didn’t realize was, something so simple could make me love myself, just a little more. And that was the day I realized that one can give another a million chances , if only they find the will to be better.I feel suddenly like he is a kid and my kid who I would give anything to save. Maybe that was why experiment 2 took place. There are no regrets, only these waves.
It is November 16, 2019. Akkarai Beach, ECR. This is a part of the 2nd experiment. This time, pleasant and comforting compared to the 1st. As I said, it gets better everytime because people grow. Cigarette by the beach. A distinct memory of feeling content when trying to light up a cigarette passes through my mind as I type this. It all comes back in dialogues that go through my mind as I experience reality along the lines of “because the world owes us nothing and we owe each other the world”, “to be honest, I prefer the worst of you” That is one complete experience of actual unconditional love I feel for a human being even after knowing that they couldn’t ever and wouldn’t ever love me the same way and even after knowing the worst they could do to me and they could do a lot more worse too along the lines of “I never had any illusions about you, and guess what: I never had. When I said I’d take you as you are, I meant: as you are.” And in there lies a freedom. And I suddenly look at the waves in the ocean. It was high tide. And that’s when I realised that he was like the waves and the tides. His love and friendship came in waves. Waves that touches your feet and slowly retreats which can only be felt constantly when you get deep in the ocean, submerge and drown. It was like the tides. Just as the high tide of love, the low tide would hit. We leave before seeing the sun rise because the clouds fucked up. But all said, this is my story and only mine not his. He was a man who didn’t know what love was.
It is January 26, 2020. Elliot’s Beach, Besant Nagar. It is a miracle that sometimes, we find so much strength in ourselves. I begin to heal from certain things. And it again proves to me how resilient Iam. Me and a friend I have slowly grown to love sit at a stone bench eating waffles. Slowly beginning to like her is a classic example of how I slowly began to encompass every human being with empathy and a sense of unconditional love. We talk for hours and iam not sure about what. We talk till the sun sets. The sense of being at a place of growth hits, no matter how slow it is. And I feel happy, really happy, some kind of inner joy after knowing that these oceans have been with me through so many phases, emotions and has never made me feel lonely. It is February 29, 2020. Sunrise Avenue, ECR. I get into therapy with a guy who became a friend last May. The first need for a therapist hit when I was called not normal and that I would be in an asylum in 10 years, and the words repeated themselves in my nightmares. He being an amazing friend makes me coffee even after midnight when he writes (he is an amazing writer) as I just stare into the night standing at the balcony. One session was fixed, this time at a beach out of the blue. And it worked like magic, with me talking about stuff I have never ever talked to any human being ever, because the beach was my comfort space. When the sun finally rose, with the first of the waves hitting my feet, I told him how relieved I felt. That was when it hit that I felt so good because I opened up. Then comes the order to open this blog and write beyond laziness. I realize its time to finally work on really forgiving two people in my life inspite of them not having asked for forgiveness. Forgiving someone, not hating them and even feeling love for them when they never ask sorry is not easy, I realize. But its me. And moving on without closure is yet another pain. And I suddenly wonder if should spread the gift I had once made into the ocean like the ashes of past. But really, there is no such thing called closure. And it isn’t really necessary. There is a sudden onset of thunder and lightning, and it doesn’t scare me so much.
It is March 15, 2020. Akkarai Beach, ECR. Having predicted the corona shutdown I visit one last time in a long time to come. And alone. The nagging questions keeps me on my feet as I remove my sandals near my bag and take a slow stroll along the shoreline, headphones playing ‘How to disappear’ by Lana Del Rey. The sky looks confused with a half risen, half hidden sun. The questions of the future keeps nipping me every moment and for once I have no answer and the chaos it triggers in oceanic in nature. No answer. No answer to what iam ever going to do to survive. And then it suddenly hits ( a story for another time ). some sunshine.
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