Age(Lie like hell if you want to): 24
Nationality (I am not going to stalk you. It might help people understand your cultural context):Indian. Not to be confused with American Indians like dear old Columbus.
Why am I here? (I didn't have anything else to do is not an acceptable answer): Because increasingly I thought I needed a space that wasnt just my personal blog where people more or less knew me...because I thought it would be good to meet up with people who can cut the mush and still talk about the relationships they have. Because I thought it would be a good idea to talk about the darker side of relationships...my style is exaggerated and flippant..but scratch at the words and you will know the problem...or so I would like to believe.
What happened last night (This is where you write your heart out):
So, as one thing settles, others crop up. It was a day of dark humour - if that's the word I am looking for- and many ironies self contained in themselves. Like unexpected filling in foreign puddings, little things cropped up to make life, if not happy, atleast interesting. And in doing those -spective things (intro, extro, retro and so on), it all seems to be quite exciting, even. In the narrative of life, today was a day full of anecdotes.
And so we went out on a looooong drive. A well cushioned, comfortable car humming along the roads of Bangalore city in the middle of night, going nowhere and everywhere at the same time. We talked (of this and that and the other), held hands (I), stared at each other (One of those things one does unwittingly when one sees somebody one loves after oh so long) and spent comfortable silences getting to know each other again.
"Let's play a game." We had always been playing games. So many childish things to suit our devious adult purposes. And here we were again, starting a new game.
"What game?" I was happy. I was in the mood to entertain. Sometimes just taking a personal decision is enough to make me happy.
"Pop quizzes?" It would be that. It happens when both of us pretend to be singers. You ask questions and you sing songs in reply.
"O.K" I deliberated. "Your turn first"
Many questions were asked, seemingly ingenius, uncrafted but all the time trying to probe deeper, to know more, to say the unspoken. But experience should have warned me. The unspoken never remains so.
"One song you would want to sing to me right now..." I trailed, even without realising what I was asking for.
"Have I told you lately, that I love you?" started the crooning.
And with a wave of my hand, like fanning gnats out of my face, I waved the song to silence. It was not needed anymore. But strange that it should be the song picked, considering that one of the main reasons of breaking up was 'how increasingly difficult it was becoming to say 'I love you' to each other."