Shin Dig

Saturday, September 03, 2011

(This was written a while ago, was in the archives for sometime.)

"The world I love
The tears I drop
To be part of,
The wave can't stop,
Ever wondered if it's
All for you?"

I broke down. I couldn't succumb to the many pretensions I'd build around myself. I'm happy. I'm busy. I'm very happy. It's what I wanted to do.

Today has got to be the most productive-busy day of the 19 years and I've a premonition, this is just a start. Since, it's my life and nothing can ever be just fine shit unloaded itself.

It's rash. Motherfucking urticaria. It's on a toll and taken to the level where I can't walk etc. During the summer break, I thought that probably I'll get so engrossed in college that I wouldn't think about rash and it would reduce. Boy, I was so wrong.

Since a last few days (or rather last two years), I've been extremely busy with college. Nothing productive-academic or co-curricular. I've been involved with the working of our department in college right from first year and in third year knowing the fact that work will have to be done, I stood up for the post of President, unaware that in a few month's time, most warped of all things will grip me.

Around our first department event, my rash started. Not just that, around that time a lot was happening. I'd fucked my preparation for exams because I was all over the place for work and I was spending large time playing the bass with the music society and otherwise. Let's say, that was a favourable period, where I was doing things I liked, keeping myself distracted from a million things that were bothering me.

When the preparatory leave begun, the damage unfolded and I realised this rash is unmanageable. I cried. I slept through days without knowing what will happen. I contemplated suicide after realizing that this will never go. To this, family and friends thought it's over exagerration, friends atleast. Family didn't know most of it, or rather my state of mind.

I reached a state with rash when I'd picked up this strip of strongest anti histamine and wanted to consume all the pills in the strip. A friend (who got the drift of what's happening) intervened and I was asked to not take a drastic step like this.

Anyhow, exams ended and I was offered an overseas trip that I gladly accepted. I sincerely believed that maybe, it was stress and that, with trip, urticaria might go away. I was proved wrong with the intense outbreak, all throughout the trip.

Back home, I was juggling time between volunteering at college for undergraduate admissions and at the work place where I interned for a month and a half. I was also balancing home front since my folks were in China for about 1o days even after me and my sibling came back. So, I was leading a hectic life. All topped with rash.

Maybe, I thought, once the college begins, there wouldn't be any time for me to think about the rash and it'd stop. Wishful thinking and all that. Even, then it didn't stop. Infact, it got worse. Now, not only would I get rash, I also have an inflated finger. If it's on the sole, I can't walk. The sensation of something freezing but instead hurting, itching and turning red after you scratch is just a little too much for humans.

Out of the crazy schedule, today's time table had classes till 3 from 8:45 am. I got up with much difficulty and proceeded to college where I was sorting classes and bass lines for two hours each. Then, I had rehersal with another set of people which lasted for 3 hours. So, four bass lines later, I got myself a ride on public transport and reached home.

I realized, it's one of those days where my sole has been affected, so badly that I couldn't stand. Okay, I thought, I could rest for an hour and then go for walk, a habit I'd very recently acquired. Company makes it all the more interesting to jog/walk. For the longest time, I waited for folks to come home. I finally went out for walk and did about decent out there at the park.

When I entered home, my hands were on the verge of exploding. They've been inflated with rash and someone in the middle of second rehersal saw my hands. All of them "ooh"-"aahed" and asked me to get home. Again, when I came back, my fingers were gone. What was left is a set of music lines and happiness.

In the loo, I saw my body closely. Not just my arms, but arm pits, ribs and chest are filled with rash all over, my hands and feet are swollen so bad that I can't get up.

After you've had a day like this, all you crave is a little emotional pouring of love. I don't know why, but I started howling. I wanted to die. I still want to. At that moment, it seemed like the best idea around. I wouldn't have to carry the burden of my insecurities and mask them with things like rash and digestive issues. The distractions around me are a wall, I'm building to hide what is really happening, what I'm going through. To this day, none of my friends know or want to know what I'm going through. Sure, everyone has their own set of issues and we gotta fight them etc but urticaria is something that has made me loose my sanity and patience. I've gone through a lot of hardships (that I don't wish to divulge here). I'm sure, all of us have, at some level, but this has pulled me down.

It hurts to see when no one, gives a fuck about what's happening to you. So, wait, that still means, they'll call you/text you when they want to know what is up in hauz khas village tonight or where should they go out to hangout or what is the phone number of general secretary but the reaction they'd give you after you'd tell them that you're having a fuckall day with rash is merely an "aah".

I used to crib about these juniors asking me questions. Right from if water floats on log (or whatever fuck that was) to where to go if they're getting bored. I believe, now, that it's just fine they did. Atleast they're nonchalant about it than my own peers, or people I label as friends. My own supposed friends don't care two hoots about what I'm living through. They're interested in dicks, here and there.

And why not, I say. It's just fine to indulge in matters of high importance like this. You wouldn't want to make a Dying Animal your best friend or anything.
I'm not as interesting as what a certain someone named "DJS" is and neither do I evoke responses from anyone. It's like, I'm there because work needs to be extracted.

Another thing that has changed majorly is that, I've lost ability or patience to take jokes or criticism of any sort from anyone. I can't take anything-even a line as a joke. It makes me want to tear up other person's head.

To summarise the issues in my life- it's mask I'm wearing out there and I'm pretending to be satisfied. At every moment, I'm soaking in more than what I ought to and that is leading to a very difficult situation for me to manage.

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