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I am finally putting pen to paper. The scrunch of the sheets against the fanged nib, the boring absorption of the ink, seeing these unusually curved letters, is definitely satisfying; I'm not sure if writing journal entries to myself similar a schizophrenic is the reply I'm looking for. But I have got to try. My head's lightheaded from riding on the sinusoidal wave that has been my life for the final two years.
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On most days I look for means to die—the highest building effectually my house, the sharpest knife in the kitchen, the nearest railway station, a pharmacist store that would unquestioningly sell xx or more sleeping pills to a sixteen-yr-old, a packet of rat poison—and on some days I only desire to be scolded by Maa–Baba for non acing the mathematics exam, tell Dada how I volition vanquish his IIT score by a mile, or be laughed at for forgetting to take the change from the bania'due south shop.
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I'm Raghu and I have been lying to myself and everyone effectually me for precisely two years at present. Two years since my best friend of four years died, one whose friendship I thought would outlast the two of united states of america, engraved forever in the space–time continuum. But, as I have realized, nothing lasts forever. Durjoy Datta Books Free Download
Now lying to others is fine, everyone does that and it'due south healthy and advisable —how else are you going to survive the suffering in this cruel, cruel globe? But lying to yourself? Durjoy Datta Books Complimentary Download That shit'south difficult, that will change you, and that's why I made the resolution to start writing a journal on the first of this month, what with the start of a new year and all, the last of this century. I must acknowledge I have been dilly-dallying for a while now and not without reason.
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It's hard to hide things in this firm with Maa's sensitive nose never failing to sniff out anything Dada, Baba or I have tried to go on from her. If I were one of those kids who live in palatial houses with staircases and driveways I would take plenty of places to hide this journal, just since I am non, it volition have to residuum in the loft behind the broken toaster, the defunct Singer sewing machine and the empty suitcases. Durjoy Datta Books Free Download So Raghu, permit'south not lie to ourselves any longer, shall we? Let'south say the truth, the cold, hard truth and nothing else, and see if that helps us to survive the darkness.
If this doesn't piece of work and I lose, checking out of this life is not hard. It'southward just a seven-storey drop from the roof pinnacle, a quick piece of the wrist, a slip on the railway rails, a playful ingestion of pills or the adventitious consumption of rat poison away. Merely permit'south try and focus on the practiced. Durga.
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Durga. Today was my showtime day at the new school, just 2 months earlier the beginning of the tenth-standard board exams. Why Maa–Baba chose to alter my schoolhouse in what'south said to be one of the near crucial year in anyone's academic life is amusing to say the to the lowest degree—my friendlessness.
'If you don't make friends at present, then when will you?' Maa said. Durjoy Datta Books Gratuitous They thought the lack of friends in my life was my school'southward problem and had zero to practise with the fact that my friend had been mysteriously found dead, his body floating in the withal waters of the schoolhouse swimming puddle. He was last seen with me.
At to the lowest degree that'southward what my classmates believe and say. Only I know the truth. When Dada woke me up this morning, hair parted and sculpted to perfection with Brylcreem, teeth sparkling, talcum splotches on his neck, he was grinning from ear to ear. Unlike me he doesn't have to pretend to be happy.
Isn't smiling too much a sign of madness? Durjoy Datta Books Costless He had shown the first symptoms when he picked a individual-sector software job over a government position in a Public Sector Undertaking which would have guaranteed a lifetime of unaccountability. Dada may be an IITian but he's not the smarter one of us. 'Are yous excited about the new school, Raghu? New uniform, new people, new everything? Of course you're excited! I never quite liked your old school.
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You will make new friends here,' said Dada with a sense of happiness I didn't feel. 'Sure. If they don't smell the stench of death on me.' 'Oh, stop information technology. It's been what? Over ii years? You know how upset Maa–Baba get,' said Dada. 'Trust me, you will love your new school! And don't talk about Sami at the breakfast tabular array.' 'I was joking, Dada. Of course I am excited!' I said, mimicking his happiness. Dada falls for these lies hands because he wants to believe them.
Similar I believed Maa–Baba when they once told me, Durjoy Datta Books 'We actually liked Sami. He's a nice boy.' Sami, the dead boy, was never liked past Maa–Baba. For Baba it was enough that his parents had chosen to give the male child a Muslim name. Maa had more valid concerns like his poor academic performance, him getting defenseless with cigarettes in his pocketbook, and Sami's brother beingness a school dropout.
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Despite all the love they showered on me in the first few months after Sami's death, I thought I saw what could just be described every bit relief that Sami, the bad influence, was no longer around. Now they use his proper noun to their advantage. 'Sami would desire yous to make new friends,' they would say. I let Maa feed me in the morning. Durjoy Datta Books Information technology started a few days afterwards Sami's death and has stuck ever since.
Maa's love for me on any given day is easily discernible from the size of the morsels she shoves into my oral fissure. Today the rice balls and mashed potatoes were humungous. She watched me chew similar I was living art. And I ate because I believe the easiest way to fool anyone into non looking within and finding that throbbing mass of sadness is to ingest food.
A person who eats well is not truly sad. While we ate, Baba lamented the pathetic fielding placement of the Indian squad and India'south questionable strange policy simultaneously, 'These bloody Pakistanis! They shoot our soldiers at the border and have the gall to send their cricketers for a friendly cricket serial. Terrorists should take bombed the hotel the cricketers were staying in. At least we wouldn't lose cricket matches to these brutes,' said Baba in anger and frustration.
'It'due south a step in the right direction, Baba. If y'all have a problem with them, might I remind you that our captain is a Muslim as well?' said Dada. 'That's what I'm maxim, Anirban. Durjoy Datta Books PDF We were supposed to be a Hindu version of Islamic republic of pakistan, the holy land for all Hindus, and look what we are at present! Secular! Bah! A nation of hypocrites.
They might exist . . .' said Baba, his vocalism trailing, eating upward the abuses that bubbled at the back of his pharynx. '. . . Simply they respect and preserve their religious identity dissimilar us who bow down to the whims of the minorities here. I'g certain they express mirth at us!' 'Non again, you ii,' Maa interrupted, stuffing Dada'southward mouth with a comparatively smaller rice ball, cutting off the oft-repeated religiously charged conversation midway.
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Baba left to mutter prayers to our Hindu gods, for our floundering cricket squad to be led by Saurav Ganguly, a Bengali Hindu brahmin. 'Exercise well in school,' said Dada before he left. Maa came to drop me to the bus cease and cried when the coach drove abroad with her favourite son. I waved to her till the bus turned the corner. It makes her happy.
Maa's obsession and deep love for me is at present old news. Durjoy Datta Books PDF Maa had no choice in the matter. Dada grew up too early. When I was twelve, Dada went off to the hostel and found friends and happiness outside our family unit and carved a son-shaped void in Maa's heart. That's when Maa turned to me for succour, the apple of her centre, and loved me with the power of a thousand suns.
Even now, she clutches my onetime clothes and mourns that I'm no longer the child who used to need her for everything. When I sat back in my seat, the other students in the bus looked at me strangely for they had seen me looking at Maa like a puppy left behind at a shelter. I don't blame them and neither practice I care.
I volition exist her all-time son till the time I can . . . but I likewise wonder how long that will be. Durjoy Datta Books PDF As Dada told me, I tried to practise well in school. Since my shift of schoolhouse was sudden and unexplained for, a lot of schools had turned me downwardly. My new schoolhouse isn't as skillful equally the last one; it is lenient, the teachers are a little slow, and the students are rowdier. I didn't talk to anyone, didn't make whatsoever new friends. I picked the empty first bench, saturday there lonely, stared at the blackboard and waited for the 24-hour interval to end.
Just 700-odd days in my new school, 1200 days in whichever college I go to and and then some more days and so some more and and so some more . . . and so I die. My plan to hide in evidently sight at school lasted till two days agone. Our grade teacher, Amarjeet Kaur, a round-faced, stout and cute woman, who had been on get out till then, introduced me to the whole class and asked anybody to say their names out loud.
I was prepared to forget every proper noun as soon equally possible but one name stuck in my caput, entangled in my thoughts similar a chewing gum stuck then desperately in long hair that it needs to be burnt off. Durjoy Datta Books PDF That name is Brahmi Sharma, the grade monitor. As well being toweringly alpine at 5'vii″ like every class monitor should exist, she is as well the march-past incharge and the teacher'southward pet.
From the number of times I have seen other boys throw furtive glances at her I'm fairly sure that she has a long line of secret admirers. I had prepared myself to not join that line the very showtime time I saw her. I have constitute an effective strategy to not like someone. All you do is find a flaw in that person and so concentrate all your energies on hating it, set up a magnifying drinking glass to your eye and train it on that flaw.
It could be a mole, or a kleptomaniacal finger; information technology could be a gender or a religion or a social course too. Slowly, you only see the flaw and not the person. Information technology has worked with everyone other than Maa–Baba and Dada whom I tin can't detest, no matter how hard I endeavour to focus on their flaws. I accept been searching for something to hate in her. Her hair is long and shiny. It is usually tied into a scruffy, untidy pony, and absolutely un-hateable. Her face is affable, with an odd pimple here and there.
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