Secrets Hidden In Time

19 | Dear Diary (19/05/2009)

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Audio : Phir Le Aaya Dil  | Barfi |

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19 | Dear Diary (19/05/2009)

May 19, 2009

Tuesday,

9:15 p.m.

Dear Diary,

This morning, I woke up to find my college acceptance letter lazing securely in the inbox of my email account. My two years' worth of sleep-deprived panda eyes have finally borne some mouth-watering fruits. Apparently, I have been accepted into the Imperial College of Engineering.

Even donkeys transform into prodigies in ICE. No, these highly intellectual words don't happen to be the culmination of my highly intelligent brain; rather, they happen to be an apotheosis of the old man's---my grandfather's exceptional news reading and watching skills.

There is this one paunchy creature who presents the daily news analysis on this news channel called 'Abhi Tak' every night. I won't comment on his news-reporting prowess, but the man has extraordinary belly-jiggling skills. I wonder if my grandfather would ever leave my grandmother for that pot-bellied fellow. He seems to harbour the intention to.

I'll be leaving for my university on the 22nd of this month, which means I'll be able to escape Shivalika and that friend of hers, Malvika. Both keep frolicking around me as if I were an egg-laying hen. On Monday last week, Shivalika's family was invited by dad for dinner at the manor. It so happened that Malvika also tagged along with her. I swear I am not a violent person, but that entire evening, I barely endured the urge to wring their necks apart. Shivalika bore affection for me; this much I was aware of, but Malvika is so damn clingy as well. She tried to touch me a few times, so I glared at her, and then she pouted. And it won't be an exaggeration to say that even Hippos have thinner lips than hers. Perhaps she thought that I was one of those hormonal machos from our school.

Secondly, I will finally get the chance to leave a bunch of emotionally unavailable lunatics behind.

There is this one random notion I always ponder upon: Is it weird to expect affection and attention from your parents? Or is it just the way most older children in a family are? Because it comes into my view that for my parents, 'I am there' yet 'not there' at the same time. Maa at least tries; Dad doesn't even bat an eyelash. And oddly, I feel it's just me who senses this because my twin gels like a freaking five rupee sachet of Fevikwik with my mother's hyperactive personality while that brat, my sister, dangles around on my father's shoulder in the entire manor as if enacting a third-grade parody of Vikram-Betaal, officially proclaiming herself as the apple of his eye. And in all this, I find myself standing there, just next to them, like a statuesque nincompoop, gawking at the blatant display of affection between my biological manufacturers and their other two products, clearly craving some of it for myself.

Yet, I don't get it.

Besides, I do understand the fact that my parents don't do this intentionally. Rather, it's just the way things in our family function on a normal basis. Maybe I am just too diffident, too withdrawn.

Plus, I don't necessarily feel lonely anymore, because whenever I do feel that emotion, I have her thoughts to indulge myself in. She still doesn't know that a boy goes to that maple wood orchard near the park every Friday, Sunday, and Tuesday without missing a single chance to watch her do her homework while sitting under the only Gulmohar tree in that grove.

Dear Diary, as each second ticks by, I am coming to the glaring realization that I will miss her.

The only person I am scared of leaving behind is her. Albeit, little Miss Pigtails still seems to be unaware of my existence.

Today evening was the last time I ventured into that orchard to gaze at her as much as I wanted before I leave for college.

I don't know when I will get to see her next. Maybe next summer?

The Gulmohar tree seed that I secretly planted six years ago in the grove behind the manor with Karim's help has grown tremendously. It still has not bloomed, though, but one day it most definitely will. For, it stands as a remembrance of the first time I saw her.

Till I come back, I'll ask Karim to take care of it.

I hope he does.

Signing off,

Dev. D

P.S. : I hope that someday I'll get to know her name. I hope that I'll get to talk with her. And that, ten or twenty years down the lane when we both would have become responsible adults, hopefully, we will be together---Maybe as friends? Because, my introversion won't be a problem then. And I hope against hope for this.

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