I REALLY suck at giving titles, dont I?
All right, for the first time in my life, I went blank. It just HAD to be my math exam. I guess I am failing again. And I feel wonderful. No, not about the exam part. I am seriously pissed about that, what I liked very much was the experience of being blank. I dont know if it is a correct definition of being blank. I dont know if what happened to me was “being blank.” It was like forgetting everything, but I could also remember everything.
I could remember EVERYTHING, from minute details, I remembered walking from one room to another of a house I have never had any recollection of. I rememeber playing carrom with my dad, and for the first time, winning. I remember crying for hours when I would fail in Hindi. The jubiliation after winning a cycle race. Darjeeling with my parents, when I was still 11, still a child, still stick thin. I remember them not as actual events, but as an afterthought, as if I just painted my memories. They stand clearly in my mind as glossy, vivid imprints not only of the actal events, but with a special spotlight on my face, a special way to look at how I FELT when whatever is happening happened.
I feel like I am drunk on my memories, and have no medium, no way to express this. This is not happiness. This is not ecstasy. This is almost carnal in nature. The burst happening, a fractal zoom, is just too much for me to handle. Slow, brilliant music plays in the background. I see my classmates too, writing dutifully(or not) in their question paper. They dont seem to mind the carnival. They seem to be oblivious to it. They are mute, blind spectators to a spectacle for their dreams. They look at their watch, mutter incomprehensible things, till my ‘blankness’ calles me again. The spectacle is too much for my spectacles, they fall down. I look down, I too am writing something. Writing incomprehensible things, they seem too unimportant, too redundant, too boring.
They pale in comparison to the celestial spectacle I see. I look around, and I see myself. I see myself everywhere, and I see what happens to the many me’s. A cricket shot, some leg spin, jumping up and down as Liverpool plays the match of their life, all these random memories, coax me, beg me to scream. I SCREAM, I SCREAM till I can SCREAM no more. I see waves of fear, greyish in colour leave me. Waves come and go as they please. I JUMP, and I can FLY. I fly around the sea, I fly with the sea gulls just as the sea waves settle on a new target. Sand decolourises my feet, its heat seeps through to me, as the salty water lashes out. I feel FRESH, as the small dew drop in the near leaf. I feel COOL, I am in a waterfall. The water is loud, its hard, like plywood. But I feel no PAIN. I am EMOTIONLESS, my emotions are there next for me to see.
For the first time, I can see my feelings, hear them. I can smell my life, and I touch its very abstractness. For the first time in my life, I FALL IN LOVE. I fall in love with MYSELF.
Then the teacher says, “15 minutes left.” My life vanishes as suddenly as it appeared. I have written 9 pages full of things I have no idea what. I see a sum. I solve it. “7 minutes left.” I cant wait to back home, maybe it will come back there. I leave as fast as possible. Everyone is discussing their paper. Looks like its easy. Everyone is happy. They smile, I smile, but for a different reason. I submit my paper, and rush back home. Slash on those headsets, and I log on. 🙂
OH CRAP. I AM FAILING. Thats what runs through me. But I am not myself. I am somewhere else, riding the next wave, and I am in love. I am somewhere else, ‘cos I AM BLANK.
* Excuse the caps. They are for emphasis.
* I am NOT weak in Math.