Hot Potato

I still smile when I think of Sidh impulsively calling me a Hot Potato after catching me looking at my cell practically every 10 seconds (ok, fifteen!).

But the laughter is not without its tinge of sadness. When Allan suddenly asked me on Friday night if I feel lonely, I was hardpressed to reply. Because I dont know want to appear as one of those sad, misfitting people in need for company...neither do I want to deny the fact that I AM someone who is close to several people who are my support system, and their absence makes me feel incomplete...and yes, then I do get lonely, like today.

And then I think about how Mum is the only one who consistently makes an effort to reach out to me and talk to me and listen to me while I am here. Other loved ones - DB, U, L, D - make an effort once in a while, but it's more like "this is the way I am, live with it". When they do make that effort, I feel happy and touched, and yet grateful, which is a terrible thing to feel. Yet others wake up to my existence only when I disappear. Like I admitted that I feel lonely sometimes, yes, I do feel hurt too.

Its also ironic how I am in regular touch with so many people I dont particularly care for...yet out of touch with so many close ones. I know whats happening in the lives of distant friends, yet the tragedies and the stresses of the lives of U, D, L pass me by, rendering me a stranger in the lives of the very people who have been part of me.

It saddens me, this breakdown of connect to the part of my life I consider most precious. It angers me, the price I am paying for genuinely great experience and exposure. It scares me, to think of the implications.

On a quiet Sunday evening, with six more weeks stretching before me, this is a good recipe for depression, isn't it. And I cant think of a single, constructive way of approaching this self-piteous mix of sadness/anger/fear. So much so for smart, sensible, positive Sudeep.