The greatest factor that keeps us all going in life is a possibility of a better future.
As I sit here and watch over the past few years in a fanatic speed of bollywood flashback reel, I had, just like everyone else, thousands of these moments. When the present looks so dreary you almost leap down to thinking of giving it all up, for a distant house, a secluded city, anonymity.
You secretly keep wishing that in time you'll fall asleep and the morning will hold a better note.
I didnt let Bhaiya and Bhabhi out of my sight the entire night. Actually, it was quite impossible not to notice them. Colourful, vivid, young, energetic, lost.
He slided a ring in her finger. It was a twin band, one gold and the other white gold with diamonds studded all around it. Feel nothing. And then it was her turn, a broad gold ring with some twelve diamonds fitted in a square shape. Eww.
My aunt kept staring at me. As if my standing there was some bad luck for the couple. I'll just blame the cinema (for convenience) for ->
'divorced/widow=bad luck'
Eh, she hates me anyways, who cares.
I tried my level best to get lost in the crowd. But something or the other kept happening. Your coke needed ice, people come up to you and want to know hows college, you get hungry, its too cold, its suffocating. Useless unavoidable things.
Suddenly, I looked around to see everyone and it was like being in pairs was an obligation. All you see are couples. "Where the hell are those loud, obnoxious little kids when you need them in the picture?"
You know when you were in fourth grade and you get invited to a classmate's birthday party at their house. Chole-bhature, cake and triangular flourescent green caps. And you get a 10 rupees 12 colour crayon set.
Years down the lane, you find those crayons in the study table drawer. You cant throw them away, cause some weird Indian mother voice in your head keeps repeating, 'You might need them someday'. So you chuck them somewhere in there and shut the drawer close. Dark. It might never see the light of the day, but then again, it might.
I feel like that long lost red crayon. I want to sleep.
