I hate giving up. Somehow battles are never lost till the last breath. I believe that you should fight – for the final victory, not over your opponent but over you own self. I still remember Class 7. I guess one of those last years when physical education had some grades associated with it. It was one of the Sports Day Practices and I suddenly realized that you needed to lie down on your back and get your toes to touch behind your head.
Now I have solved many challenges in life. I have sat in a movie theatre and watched Main Aur Mrs. Khanna. I have coolly gone to a debating podium and asked a completely stranger, “So what are we discussing today?” I have believed my Con B groupies, the great IITians from Powai and Guwahati respectively, that there is no way in hell that Rambo will call us to present the case and have stood facing a class eagerly waiting to see us being ripped apart. And then at the end of the presentation I have heard the professor clear his throat and say, “Very spirited presentation Mr. Banerjee. The analysis could have been equally spirited.”
The point is I never give up.
And so I walked up to the games room and demanded a retrial. Mr. James was a sweetheart. He knew that even if it were Judgement Day, I would not be able to do that. But he asked me to go ahead. He might as well have told a bull to not charge at a matador.
And of course, miracles don’t happen. Till today the toes don’t touch the ground. But I am happy in the fact that till the last moment I fought.
But somewhere in the beginning of this year I gave up on us. I realized we were both bearing the burden of the past. And my life was turning into a black and white classic where the theme songs were either Dangling Conversations or Cecilia. You get the drift. I was living a life where there were constant heartbreaks, self inflicted pain and a desire that one day you will be mine. Not in the sense that I would own you, but just that I will be able to call you my own. It was as if I was valuing you in the silver coins I had in my wallet.
You never bothered to ask what I wanted. Our friendship meant, I was the one who was constantly giving and while I do not want to be seen as the one who measures friendship, you know very well that at times you could have reciprocated.
So in 2011, I wait for you to call me and I wait till that happens for no longer I have the energy to walk the extra mile.
So my dear Razorback of a cycle, you better start reminding me that you exist. And hopefully take away some of the adipose tissues. I am no longer going to honey-coddle you :)