Skip to main content

Resolution

I don’t know why, but of late, a strange kind of calmness has descended on my mind. I have started to look at the world from a different perspective. To my astonishment, today I spent at least ten minutes in front of the mirror appreciating my rather ugly face. Was hunting for the finer lines of beauty! Was posing like a cartoon a character and was wondering about the changes in me.

Thanks to my not so handsome disposition, I encounter the mirror only when I am forced to do it. For example, while shaving. I last paid so much attention to myself when I was in class twelve and was head-over-heels for a classmate. I knew I don’t stand a chance to her, especially when hunks like Pradipta and Arunabha are putting on efforts, but…I enjoyed fancying myself a knight in shining armour. Now that both Pradipta and Arunabha are hundreds of miles away from me, I must admit…I tried some cheap tricks to minimise their chance. At the end none of us was winner. My classmate flew with a pilot to U.S.!

Looking back, now I realise I never wanted that girl! I was happy for the attention I am showering myself to. I didn’t have greasy hair like today that time. I used to shampoo everyday. There was always a comb with me in my back pocket. My hair-mania reached to such a stage that whenever my brother, then eight, used to throw his handmade confetti, it used to get stuck on my hair and refused to go without force.

I used to put properly washed clothes everyday and apply scents and deodorants. How many times I shouted at my mother for a fine unnoticeable stain in my white shirt! I was indulging myself in luxury. And I was regularly going to the local akhara, a poor man’s gym.

That was the first time I started shaving. That was the first time I started to put cream (stolen from my sister’s trove) on my face. That was the first time I started to treat my body as a temple. That was the first time I started worshipping the temple with smoke.

After so many years, all the habits have shred except the habit of smoking. If the situation was like to light an incense stick, it’s now chimney. When it burns a lot. I drink to subdue the burns, a new addition.

Strangely, after so many years that urge to love myself is returning again. I realised I have not loved myself enough. It was a sin to neglect your life like this. Don’t know if it is too late for a new year resolution, but it’s still January. I have taken a sacred oath to love myself a little more, to indulge in luxury and opulence and not to live like a skimpy monk anymore. I will cut down on smoking, drinking, keeping awake late at night for no good reason. I should not lie anymore. I will stay away from my favourite game of pretending like a fool and throw situations to unassuming people and enjoy watching him/her getting bogged down with it, Etc.

I will read lot of books, will write even more craps, just to satisfy my love for writing, whether anybody loves it or not. I will not harm anybody or think bad about anybody. It leaves a permanent restlessness on your mind, if you try to harm anybody. It makes more bad to you than to your victim. Universal love is my motto now.

As ancillary, I have also decided not to care or fear anybody. A free mind…is what the need of the hour is. There should not be any black spot on my mind. Neither it should be introduced by me, nor should others get a chance to leave any stain. My mind should be a fresh lotus leaf. It should not hold anything for long.

To commit myself to this resolution, I have started with a modest investment of Rs. 14k. I bought an ipod last week. Not that I needed it, gadgets and me go the opposite direction. But it was necessary to catch up with today’s technology and make myself ‘cool’.

The next step is to find a girlfriend who loves me more than I love her. Even if she is the ugliest in the world. Just like me.

The search is on. I think I zeroed in on one. Fingers crossed.

Comments

Yves said…
Bears comparison with Bridget Jones' Diary and The Diary of Adrian Mole but your satire is spiritually profound whereas the others are about superficial things like politics and social fads.

In other words, high quality writing, gf!
feroze said…
How long will you go on being a 26-year-old?
preeti said…
ghetu bacha..your blogs are getting more profound and introspective. is that because of the grey hair??
yeah, the treat at amoeba is on me, but don't you think Koshy's might be better?
Anando Rocks said…
Those who don't love themselves, can't love others.
Shuv said…
hey man!! wake up! get drunk, watch a malika sherawat movie, go to a pick up joint..do something to clear your mind of these dangerous ideas man! otherwise soon there will be wedding invitation post on this blog..
Scout said…
i agree. letting go, when it happens, is the best.
Shuv said…
lol @ feroze's comment...
Ghetufool said…
yves,
thanks again for your generosity. what else i should say. you compared it with bridgit jones...
Ghetufool said…
feroze,
that 26 is my mental age. and your age is what you feel to be. so i think that's not going to change for a long long time.

preeti,
i have become instrospective because i have lost all my creativity. a funy story doesn't come in mind now. yes, may be grey hair.
Ghetufool said…
anando,
stop churning out osho. spell something original.

shuv,
indeed your cynical ideas are welcomed. i will definitely think about it. actually, after a good sleep, i found out that idea is not good at all. and i am not going to post wedding invitation anytime in near future. don't worry. and son't laugh at feroze's comment, he is as pesky as you are.

scout,
yes, i am letting it go. but don't you think i have let it go too far?
gypsy said…
uhm...an ipod for the bengali babu?? TOOO MUCCCHHH! hope ur listening to some good music at work! B-) heheheeeee
kaushik said…
Ghetu I dont think Feroz is right.. You are growing up.. And you seem to be in love.. Forget what Shuv says.. He was just like you 10 years back... He has had his cake and doesnt want anybody to have it after that...

Do I know the girl in your life..
Ghetufool said…
gypsy,
yes i am listening to some chin-music here. i must say it's not very good.

kaushik,
first of all, i am not in love. secondly, if i was, it's highly improbable that you would know the girl.
and i pardon shuv. gandhi has said to pardon everybody.
Ghetufool said…
gypsy,
yes i am listening to some chin-music here. i must say it's not very good.

kaushik,
first of all, i am not in love. secondly, if i was, it's highly improbable that you would know the girl.
and i pardon shuv. gandhi has said to pardon everybody.
20 box said…
welcome home!!
you are arrived now.
narcissism is just the beginning of life.
Anonymous said…
whos the poor girl...

"gwkyh"...i had to enter this to post this comment....crap
Ghetufool said…
20 box,
narcissist? am i?

anon,
first let me know who are you.

Popular posts from this blog

Kaun banega karorpati...dwitiya

--Namaste, satsriakaal, aadab, mein amitabh bacchan aapke samne, leke hajir hua hu, phir ek bar, kaun banega karorpati dwitiya.
(audiences in dark start clapping along with a music as if crusader king Richard of England just captured the castle of a jehadi king)
Aaj, mere samne beithe hai Jarshad kakiara…kakku…cuckoo…
(a club-shaped man intervenes, with a child-like smile, “Kakkrakandy”)
Ji haa, kakkara (“kandy”, the man again intervenes with a shy smile)
-Yes, Jarshad kakk…, whatever, aiye aap aur hum khele yeh adbhut game, jiska naam hei …(looks at the club-shaped man)
Jarshad Kakkrakandy, answers “kauun banayega karrorrpatti”

Amitabh shows Jarshad the seat, adjusts the seat for him. Jarshad sits, the chair shrieks.

--aur abhi mere samne baithe hain Jarshad n. k., from Chennai, who is a journalist with reuters, loves reading dilbert, unka favourite movie hai “chandramukhi”. And he is the self-proclaimed ‘king of PJ’.

--Haan to Jarshad saab, aapne likhe hein ke apke naam hei Jarshad n.k. now …

On Mithi

I became a father on 18 November, 2014. At that moment when fatherhood embraced me, perhaps I should have been elated, jumping up and down and doing all sort of activities that new fathers do, at least, that's what most sane people do. But nothing of that sort happened to me. When I heard my baby's voice, first like an angry cat and then a mild wail wafting across the operation theatre to the waiting area where we all were pacing up and down, the first thought that hit me was how was my wife? It was a C-section and she was partially unconscious. I should not have read Internet too much, for I was reading all sorts of horror stories, of mothers not waking up or recovering etc. I was petrified as I was not hearing my wife's voice. The doctors and sisters inside the operation theater must have been very busy with their other procedures. In fact, after bringing out the baby from the womb, they were busy closing the cut, I later got to know.
The realisation of becoming a fathe…

The Sculptor's Tale

(Note to readers ... mainly Ian, who is the only one who reads this blog >> i just finished writing this in office. didn't even re-read it after writing, forget editing. Expect a leaner/fatter and better written version, if my mood permits.)
Keep your hands busy, said my father every time I used to lean against the tree to catch my breath. Keep your hands busy you idiot, keep your hands busy, don’t let your head decide for you. Keep your hands busy, he would coax me to get working. And so I would again start chiselling the chunk of rock, along the lines my father, a master sculptor, had already outlined. But I would still dream with eyes wide open. When the hammer used to fall so gently yet firm on the chisel, I used to dream of the cities and the grand mansions. I was not good in sculpting, yet I wanted to be the greatest sculptor in this world. I wanted to be honoured by my king. I wanted to be the subject for which kings wage wars against each other. I was a dreamer, I …