NAMELESS, FACELESS

It has taken me around 4 years and a visit to Dhaula kuan, to finally write this down perhaps this is what is holding me back, not that I’ve not talked about it but I believe the comfort that writing gives me is exactly what I need right now. Before you think that it is some melancholy tale hold up; nobody dies and no hearts are broken. So let us begin.

Around 4 years back in  October 2014 Delhi was finally getting its first Anime Con, which was a big deal for all the Otakus living in the NCR because events like conventions were something that were reserved for the other cool cities like Bangalore or Mumbai. So you can imagine the ecstatic vibe that was all around. This convention was finally here albeit on a small scale and when I say small, I mean very small. Tickets were booked before hand, some even chose the special passes. On my 16th birthday I received these passes, my mind working overtime, imagining movie-like scenes, bookworthy situations needless to say it did not live up to my imagination but not even the disappointment could lower my morale. It was conducted in a small area ,and because apparently to some people mangas and comics are the same, even the comic fans had a stall .But it was my first exposure to something that  involved cosplayers and people all around were fans of something or the other. Since I was 16 and as my parents explained “only 16” I was accompanied by my “sometimes pain in the butt” brother. This convention was conducted over 3 days, from 17-19 October.

With high hopes the first day I went I was over the moon, loving every minute of it, we had people coming all the way from japan, manga artists, animators.They had a sketching competition and as any other slightly artistic person who loved anime, i too had tried my hand at drawing the characters. Under the guidance of YouTube artist Mark Crilley, i had even maintained a small sketch book that i carried with me. That day i think I drew Naruto or Ichigo, for the life of me I just can’t remember and fortunately or unfortunately ,I didn’t win.

But lets skip to the day a lifechangng experience happened. I decided to skip the second day because it was on the third day that another sketching competition was happening and this time i was prepared with a full strategy ,even practiced a few times. So on the third day i go to convention , with not just my brother but two of his other friends. the competition was late in the afternoon so we roam around, click a few photos, check out the stalls, i got a cute Eren Jeager merchandise. Nothing could deter my mood, not even my brother saying he and his friends are going to some places but they’ll be back later, to this day I’m not sure where they went. But i was on a Mission to win the competition. I wanted the prize, which I now realise was really stupid because it was just some average merch. I attended a few events, one by a Manga artist and time flew by.  Soon it was time for the Sketching competition and i’m in full “i-cant-draw-that-well-but -i-must-win-this” mode. I was going to draw Itachi Uchiha with his Susanoo in the background. So I start sketching, and this is where a guy comes into the picture, he’s sittig on my left ,leaving two spaces. We’re making conversation, well he is, i don’t care that much about him until half way through the competition, i’m asked an annoyig dad to move next to the guy so that his family can sit,I quickly move, stilll not paying attention to guy. well it is not until he compliments my drawing and even asks me if i could give him my sketch that i start paying attention to him, well what can i say i’m a sucker for compliments. So we talk, we talk about a lot of things, I was in class 10th at that time, he was in 12th. He was an army brat, having moved from a lot of states, always traveling but he loved it, his faher was in the army. He was studying in the Army Public School, Dhaula Kuan. His favourite YouTuber was PewDewPie, mine was NigaHiga. He tells me about his favourite songs, he liked EDM. I don’t remember much about his face or his feature, he was tall.His hair was short and i think he wore specs. He seemed like a cool guy. He showed me his purchases- he had a cool Akatsuki poster and a deathnote belt from what I thought remember. So the we’re talking, it feels good and i’m content with how my sketch has turned out. he is still insisting upon having my sketch, i tell him he can have the rough one as i submit ‘my masterpiece’. He is happy with pretty much anything, I sign the rough sketch and hand it to him and submit the original one. It is around this time that my broter finally makes his return. Now something that you should know about me, it is that I was the type of girl who never cared much about the opposite sex as a teen should, like I was not gushing about crushes or flying from boyfriend to boyfriend, nope. not even experimenting with anything. If I could best describe it, I would say I was indifferent to them. So this guy took me by surprise because guys did not pay attention to me and i never payed attention to them, at least not that way. So as my brother comes, even his friend comes upto him, so we both kinda move away. As my brother suggests going back home, it hits me that i never asked the guy his name. So i search for him but can’t find him. As we’re leaving i see him ahead of us with his friend but i’m surrounded by three guys who are completely unaware of my inner turmoil. I try to catch him but he just disappears and i only see his friend walking towards the station so i quicken my pace, practically run to ctach his friend. I see the back of his head and call to him but he doesn’t turn because din-ding-ding, the guy is wearing earphones, lost in his own world. So i put on a smile and think perhaps it was not meant to be. but my heart doesn’t think so. So over the course of the next few days I spent the socisl sites stalking and browsing the pages of PewDewPie to their school page but I come up with nothing.

I try to tell myself that he was just as much at fault as i was. my mind has constructed this perfect fairytale about how we were so compatible, so similar that we both forgot to ask each other’s name. i spend several countless nights pondering over the what-ifs and conjuring about the perfect ending about how we’ll meet. Katy perry sings out ‘the one that got away’ and my 16 year old self can only associate this song with that incident. It refuses to move on. A few months later,  when i’ve almost forgotten about him,i come across an article in Reader’s Digest where a couple met in a resort and instantly hit it off but frogot to ask their names but a year later by chance or nature’s miracle they meet again at some other place. So i too think that i’ll meet the guy next year. But as luck would have it, we never got another anime con ,but sure had comic cons but for some reason i was unable to go to them. the circumstances would never allow, a small part of me still believes that he’ll be there waiting for me and I’ll see him there at the convention, happily reunited and i think its the fear of not finding him there always holds me back. He has become a nameless face in the clouds of nameless faces and though I hate to think about it, he’ll be a nameless faceless entity in the crowd. And that is why I will always hate the movie ‘Serendipity’, I hate it with a passion. And though i’ve changed and grown ; become a totally different and mature person, some part of my heart still holds out hope and even today as i read the words ‘Dhaula kuan’ or “conventions” I remember him. I remember him and like to be believe that my chance encounter with him happened for a reason and it was to teach me to live fully and loosen up a little. it is funny how my one regret has taught me to live with no regrets. So to the nameless guy if you are reading this, I hope you’re doing well and still have my sketch somewhere, even if it is somewhere deep inside your mind; a memory and i hope its a good memory. And p.s.- I like you.

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The stages of Fading Away

And it begins, in the most enchanting way;

the doubts come first, because in this life something’s gotta give, can’t handle this much happiness ,can you?

Then the doubts turn into questions, always lingering on your mind, sitting on the edge of your tongue, and no matter what answers you get the suspicion never goes away.

Distance is the conclusion you can find, its temporary of course because you can’t survive each other, the forever type of love and such crap your mind feeds your heart, just to console it that nothing is going to change, this is a rough patch, you’ll get past stronger and more in love, as if that was possible.

The first three stages are gradual, slowly unfolding, and nothing you ever expecting, you take each stage as life hands it to you.

The last one is the hardest, hits you like a hurricane, right in the centre of your chest with no signs of injury. The final stage, goodbye, no more rough patches to go pass through, no troubles, no heartaches, no arguments, but no more him.

The things you thought were impossible, the challenges you thought would never come between you, the tough times we’d promised to get through; all of it mattered yet now it carries little meaning. Oh, how foolish are you to believe life won’t shower its sweet wrath on you?

It was irony at its best, you singing songs about forever, and me,writing about us thinking that our story once written would be eternal, penning us together would bind us as one, forever.  Oh what a foolish world !

Even the best of us can’t escape this mirage; making sandcastles look like fortresses of stone. A weak wind, a touch of hand to make it all disappear. Did we really mean so less to each other?

So many questions, no answers, wonder if you now have a problem with my inquisitiveness too. But I never intended for you to answer, for answering them would make it all real. So I sit down with my thoughts that tainted by the memories of you, me and what could’ve been.

I remember it as it were only yesterday, when I’d run to you to share even the tiniest moments of my day and you telling me how when you something beautiful, it reminded you of me. I never told you but those sweet little things you did unknowingly and unconsciously had the power to fill my darkest days and stormiest nights with light.

And now? now the only thing that passes between us is time. I wonder where it all got wrong isn’t love supposed to stand by it all?

And even right now as you read this, I know you’ll think that I’m writing this because of you, thats how little you know me now, because I write this all for my own sake.

My mind simply can’t accept this abrupt change, it needs to know the exact moment this storm began, what was the catalyst? could i have done something to prevent it from happening?

Oh, how there’s beauty in even the cruelest and heart shattering things, because after all it began in the most enchanting way

and then it just faded away!

 

  The cursed lovers

To the cursed lovers,

Lets cook up a fantasy tonight,

Albeit only for a little while.

Let us hold it close to our hearts,

Let us not glue together all the pieces of us that were long broken apart.

Tonight, just for mere moments,

Let us not focus on the pennies or cents.

Count the blessings that we’ve got,

For the world is not known to give us a lot.

The soothing atmosphere,

As I hold my loved one near,

Whispering sweet nothings into his ears,

Wishing both of us could just stay here,

Forever.

Alas forever is a concept unknown,

 Can’t find it within the laptops or phones.

Try as hard as you might,

These moments are inevitable to take flight.

But darling don’t forget,

Life is too short for regrets.

I’m lock with no keys,

Yet somehow you manage to open me.

Fool around, take the lead,

For you I’ll gladly bleed.

That’s the thing about a fantasy,

Anything and everything occurs with such ease.

We runaway to places we can’t even see,

For a while we just let it be.

As the fantasy is about to end,

We realize we have so much to mend.

The broken promises ; still unfulfilled,

The hollow words that had me thrilled.

Then sets in the calm,

Just before the harm.

The reality begins,

But we never do.

Finish the unfinished tale.

​In the movies and books they glorify and sugar coat the whole romance.

They depict one sided love with such creativity that it appears to be magical.

But reality sucks.Thepossibility of the other person liking you back is slim to none.

They show it as if the other person is your best friend ,ever present for you, making efforts as much as you make or even more than you. But that’s the thing you see, in real life it can never be like that.

In the movies they get scared thinking its only one sided , scared of getting hurt when they love each other and there’s no doubt they’re meant to be together.

The mundane life is far from this cooked up fantasy. You can’t separate emotions, you make all the efforts in the unrequited love , you are happy getting even a small portion of their attention, you mistake it for something else, something meaningful, deeper . You’re so blinded by it that you fail to see that you’re just 1 of the 100 hundred girls.

You open up ,share feelings and your every thought; in return hoping for the same, and getting even a chink is a victory for you.

You compromise when there’s nothing to be compromised. It sucks,big time.

So let it go.

Move on.

Believe in yourself

You are worth more than you think.

Don’t change or compromise for anyone.

The right person , if there’s even one , will come along and appreciate you for you !

Life is too short for living in denial.

I look at him and get the same feeling you get when you look at artwork.

The yearning you feel to glide your fingers across the panels, to feel the stroke of the brush.The aching feeling  inside you that make you want to feel the texture of the masterpiece.  You want to hold it close to your beating heart, wishing that all the emotions of the artist will come flooding into you somehow, as if each thought will come pouring in; perhaps they’ll even seep into your bones and stay right within you.

You just need to touch it.

But at the same time there is the fear.

The lingering feeling that bothers you. The fear that your touch will harm the intricate design. You’ll taint the masterpiece because thats all you ever do. Destruction is all you’ve ever known.  Your life is a mess and you loathe it too much to bestow it upon anyone else. The fear binds you, never truly letting you do anything fully.

So you admire the art from afar, never gathering enough courage to near it, ignoring the ache that builds inside of you.

You foolishly convince your heart, believing that you were lucky enough to have at least seen it, content with the fact that even being in the same vicinity as the artwork as an achievement in itself .