The trip was fantastic. It was more than everything I hoped it would be. I went with the hope of spending time with myself, figuring things out. I ended up hanging out with an annoying but also strangely attractive little twit of a guy, a completely gorgeous, man-of-honour man-child who I have a tremendous middle-school crush on and a completely in love couple. So it wasn’t like how I’d planned it, in terms of me hanging out mostly by myself on a hill side with my reds and my hip-flask. I handed my cell-phone over to the couple, with strict instructions not to give it to me till we were back in Delhi. I was ready to clear my mind and prioritise.
Instead the weekend involved heavy drinking, truck rides, school bus rides, hanging out at this very fantastic, very posh army officers’ club (we were staying at this fauji place because the couple dude is the son of a major general in the Indian army), being hit on by both the dudes mentioned above in very different ways, not reading at all, hardly sleeping, thunderous rain storms, sixty degree hikes which made me realize how non-existent my stamina is, shouting at Khushwant Singh’s house for some strange reason, very highly subsidized alcohol, freezing our asses off, sitting on benches at the edges of cliffs, playing hours of bejeweled on the annoying twit’s phone with his assistance, the four of us curled up under quilts, huddling for warmth and so on and so forth.
I didn’t get to think about my life in Delhi but I did end up doing some generic, non-location specific thinking. I’m not sure how to coherently express this without sounding trite and incredibly inane. Which I know I will but bear with me because I’m on leave and bored and going a little insane being cooped up.
My recent and abject break up with romance and feelings or believing in the requirement for the same has become a sort of homing beacon for guys who’re tired of their relationships, guys who have just got out of five year long relationships and are consequently seriously damaged goods, guys who are rude assholes and also your friend who are into years of skullfuckery as a part of some perverse masochistic experiment. They all can sense that they can come and try and hold my hand (?!?) and say ‘it’s cool, my girlfriend knows and we’re going to fight about this tomorrow’, give me the ‘you’re so different from the women I know’ spiel, hang out with me, hit on me, force me to be horrible to them and actually like it and go into an infinite repeat cycle. They all feel free to do this and know that I won’t care or protest because I don’t care or protest. I have switched off and fallen off the radar. I am only capable of passive participation and observation and I don’t care I don’t care I don’t care and I’m just waiting for them all to go away.
I have learned that I am incapable of spending a lot of time by myself anymore and I gladly welcome any form of company. I am only interested in the transient because allocating more than a bare minimum amount of mind-space to anything is not an option. I am incapable of honesty. I am biding my time, till 3rd July 2010, till I can finally quit my job and go off traveling. Kasauli was incredible and satisfying and nourishing and gives me the energy to continue not giving a shit :) I am still in the process of learning how not to feel the swoop in my stomach at certain instances and how to shut my mind to the trivialities of this world and do some serious rising above.