ramblings

october

(1/3)
i dislike varun dhawan, a couple of my friends don't, we're in the theatre watching october. no one really goes to this local theatre, everyone prefers the bigger one, including us. but this one is closer, we can walk to it after school, it's mostly empty save for the odd couples making out or the tired single parent with their child that refuses to sit still. i remember us, a bunch of high schoolers, booking the cheapest seats, then moving up to the expensive ones with an air of unfounded confidence. after all, no one questions you if you walk like you own the place. i remember the watered down coke, us snickering at the usual condom ad, two of us launching into a discussion of how these ads should be more educational rather than something that makes you shift uncomfortably when you're sitting with your family due to it's overly sexual nature. but it needs to cater to the male gaze, i forgot.

i remember my smartass comments throughout the movie, about the overly emo scenes, about how he was being stupid, about how he should've just moved on with his life (maybe i am a little heartless, maybe i would prefer calling it being practical) about the way he ugly cries and it looks so fucking funny. i remember making fun of everything just so i could make everyone giggle and so that the rest of the theatre could shoot us dirty looks. there is a type of power in making people laugh, the rush that follows when you just let words roll off your tongue and feel someone's shoulder shake as they struggle to control their laughter.

that day in that tiny theatre, the person sitting with me made me laugh too. being an asshole about a movie right when you're watching it is a different type of bonding experience. we weren't very close, we weren't best friends. you know how there's one person in your group that you're the least close to? she was that person. of course, when i say the least close to, i mean as compared to the others. wait least is a comparative word anyway, isn't it a superlative? jesus, i sound dumb. i'm not friends with her anymore. it's been a year now. i shouldn't miss her. i miss her. or do i just miss that time? am i just drowning in nostalgia again? i'm nineteen, how do i even have so much nostalgia? i just miss school. yeah, i really miss school.

(2/3)
anyway, or is it anyways? anyways, no wait that sounds weird. moving the fuck on, among all of these scattered memories that i remember of that day, i remember the distinct chill that went through my body when white flowers showed up on the screen. white flowers with an orange center. it was like i was transported to a hidden memory. a building, late night, me crouching down near a tree because something caught my eye. i was probably seven at that time, smitten by strange white flowers that smelled sweet. so sweet. they were blooming at night. would they be here in the morning too?

a couple nights later, i took them home to mom. listened attentively as she told me why these flowers were different. how they were different. i don't remember anymore. i do remember her smile though, so much sweeter than the flowers. after that, i would find them every night, or maybe they found me. no i just said that to be dramatic. oops.

this temporary mind travel was interrupted when my friend, the one who isn't my friend anymore, touched my arm to comment on another scene. it was funny, a callback joke, i think it's called. i know it's called that. the movie ended with a wholly unsatisfactory climax (the girl dies), two people crying, and a majority of us scoffing. i forgot about the flowers for a couple years.

(3/3)
i had an exam. seemed important then, can't remember what it was now. over the past two years, i've learned to love taking walks by myself, it calms me down, and i can talk to myself without distractions. just some lovely quality time with myself. man that sounds weird. it shouldn't!!!

i take a detour, which isn't really a detour since my walks are all over the place anyway, literally. was that a pun? no, it's me going off track again. like my walks. okay we're not doing that again. i walk past a grove of trees and it hits me. the smell. i freeze, glancing back. slowly walk over to the trees. and i see them, white flowers. those white flowers with an orange center.

there's no way i haven't seen them before. i take these walks so often. how have i not seen them before. i stand in the middle of the street staring down at them. feel a sudden prickle at the back of my eyes. my eyes start to water as the combined force of two memories hits me. the movie theatre and seven year old me. i take them home to maa again and it seems like nothing has changed, i still have my friend and maa still has her sweet smile. one of those is true.

this time, the flowers found me. they're called shiuli flowers. the girl in the movie was called shiuli. i don't remember who varun dhawan played, but i still dislike him. i miss school.