| Diary of a Neurotic | ||||||
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August 17, 2003 It’s Sunday, the torturous day of the week where I sit through my least favorite subject bright and early in the morning. There is a guy in the first row, slightly chubby who always sits leaning forward with his head bobbing with approval every 5 seconds, his body language screams his love for economics. While I’m sitting at the back, completely lost, doodling away on my notebook full of stars and flowers, waiting for 10:30 when we get a 15 minutes break and stealing glances at my favorite book this week longing to return to it. It’s already 10:40 and the nerdy guy from the front has come up with an argument to negate the stubborn and permanent laws of managerial economics. I’m on the edge of my seat, book and bag in hand ready to jump out. As soon as I’m out I locate my reading spot, an undisturbed corner bench where the sun shines brightly from the glass rooftop. Just when I’m immersed in the memoirs of the Irish story teller I hear an excited greeting from a girl. Annoyed, I force myself into the real world and look up, its the girl from my Marketing class, the only one I like because her story was so similar to mine and I always sat next to her. She looks so different today and it takes a couple of seconds for it to register that her hands and feet are decorated with henna, slightly loosing the dark color giving away its 3 days old age. There’s a fat diamond ring on her finger and lovely matching earrings. Her glowing pink cheeks and ear to ear smile tells me she’s about to give me the news she’s been dreaming about for the past 7 years. But wasn’t it just 2 weeks back that she told me her sweetheart was from a different community and she could never marry him unless her parents were drugged or shipped off to a different continent. Envy sets off my evil side and I wonder if she got engaged to someone else. She waves her perfectly manicured, diamond studded hand in my face “Guess what! My parents finally agreed and I got engaged 3 days back, I’m probably getting married next month”. You can feel the happiness and excitement at the miracle she never ever thought would happen. I chase the evil thoughts away and smile…congratulate her genuinely and try to match her happiness telling her I told her it would happen some day. And as she plops down next to me rambling about designers, caterers and beauty salons, I know my face and clothes are green from tip to toe. Words like lucky, happy and marriage swim in front of my eyes and I shut them, longing for that day when I would be gushing and squealing to friends, family in fact strangers on the roads, shops, offices, waving a blinding diamond ring that I’m also getting married to my sweetheart. (11:59 PM) ~`~
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