We spent a week together, touring places and having fun and it was indeed one of the most enjoyable holidays I've had as an adult. Once I was back home and basking in the afterglow of our time together, I realized that of all the things we did, my most treasured experiences were the subtle, unplanned ones. Like holding hands secretly under our bags while in the bus, or the kisses stolen in the elevator.
I wish I could say more, but not here, not now.
Are you ever sad that an year has come to an end? I mean, not sad that another year has passed or that you are getting older, instead, just sad that you are going to miss the year – like graduating from school and never seeing it again. I'm. I think I'll miss 2015.
I was at office, talking to my colleague over Skype. He was sitting only a couple of rows away from me. But if you think about it, the conversation which originated from me probably went through numerous encodings, hopped on telephone lines, passed through deep sea cables, traveled through satellites and traveled all the way around the world before it finally reached my colleague, who was sitting just a couple of meters away from me. Behind their facades of simplicity, everything in life is complex at the magnitude of a comet hitting a flying fuck.
On the last day of college, I met everyone and exchanged good byes and wishes for future, along with tear socked promises to meet again. But little did I realize then the finality of the farewells we bid. In the last five years since college, I haven't met more than a dozen of them. So it is likely that on that farewell day, I met most of my friends for the very last time in my life, without realizing the finality of the moment at that time. I often wonder what I would have done or said differently, had I known. When I took one last look through my hotel room window before vacating it, I didn't realize it then that I will never ever stand there and look through that window again – not again for a gazillion years stretching between that moment and infinity. Every passing moment has a finality to it. It takes with it something from us that we'll never ever have again.
I had a full meal the night before my entrance examination, and as a result I felt sleepy afterwards and went to bed early without covering as much topic as I wanted to. This in turn had some effect on the marks I scored in the examination on the next day. The marks decided which college and course I got admission to. I met most of my friends at the college, and the person I'm now and the things I'll ever do are influenced by the college, and the folks I met there. So, if you think about it, my decision to eat a full supper that day had as much effect as anything else in shaping up the person I'll ever be and the things I'll ever do. Everything you do, or don't, will start chain reactions of earth shattering magnitudes, adding to the entropy of the universe, which in turn changes everything that will ever happen. Or not.
I watched the movie Juno back in 2011. I liked the movie. In the movie, the guy, Bleeker, eats orange tic tacs all the time. There is a scene where the girl, Juno, says that "Orange tic tacs are Bleeker's one and only vice. When we made out, his mouth tasted really tangy and delicious". At that moment, I decided that this is what my first kiss should feel like too. I wanted the person I kiss to say that my kiss was "tangy and delicious". I thought it was romantic.
And hence orange tic tacs became one of my obsessions and I started carrying them around with me all the time – just so that I'll be ready if I happen to stumble upon the moment accidentally. In those days, I consumed more than a case of tic tacs per day.
I did that for months, but the moment never came. And eventually I quit tic tacs for good.
Finally, 4 years later, the moment presented itself. Well, it was planned, so I knew it was coming. And guess what I carried with me to the first date? Duh, a pack of orange tic tacs.
When the much anticipated moment arrived, I quickly chewed some tic tacs. And kissed. I knew I tasted like tic tacs. Goal #1 achieved. I wanted to hear it, so I asked: "Did I taste like oranges? Did you like it?". I was hoping for an "Yes".
But the reply was: "Nope, it tasted just like you, and yes, I liked it". That was the most romantic thing I had ever heard in my life. Fuck tic tacs.
PS: I still have a large box full of empty orange tic tac cases somewhere at home.
Finally when all the love songs in my playlist lost their meanings and became nothing more than just nice tunes.
“That’s the thing about pain. It demands to be felt.”
– John Green, The Fault in Our Stars
My favorite part from the book, The Kite Runner. (spolier)
They'd both been crying; I could tell from their red, puffed-up eyes. They stood before Baba, hand in hand, and I wondered how and when I'd become capable of causing this kind of pain.
Baba came right out and asked. "Did you steal that money? Did you steal Amir's watch, Hassan?"
Hassan's reply was a single word, delivered in a thin, raspy voice: "Yes."
I flinched, like I'd been slapped. My heart sank and I almost blurted out the truth. Then I understood: This was Hassan's final sacrifice for me. If he'd said no, Baba would have believed him because we all knew Hassan never lied. And if Baba believed him, then I'd be the accused; I would have to explain and I would be revealed for what I really was. Baba would never, ever forgive me. And that led to another understanding: Hassan knew. He knew I'd seen everything in that alley, that I'd stood there and done nothing. he knew I had betrayed him and yet he was rescuing me once again, maybe for the last time. I loved him in that moment, loved him more than I'd ever loved anyone, and I wanted to tell them all that I was the snake in the grass, the monster in the lake. I wasn't worthy of this sacrifice; I was a lair, a cheat, and a thief. And I would have told, except that a part of me was glad. Glad that this would all be over with soon. Baba would dismiss them, there would be some pain, but life would love on. I wanted that, to move on, to forget, to start with a clean slate. I wanted to be able to breathe again.
"First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left
to speak out for me."
– Martin Niemöller, Pastor and social activist