Confessions by the Geek

  • Hopeless Romantic: Everyday, for the last six years, I stroll down the path that connects Hall-4 to the Shopping Center through Girls’ Hostel. I didn’t admit it to myself, until now, but in my mind was the shadow of the thought that She might be there. She was right here, for five years of my stay. She never left though, she is still here in every single of my thoughts. I can’t, however I hard I try to shake of the idea of us being together. I wish she lives a very happy life wherever she is. But the human nature… it is selfish! So, influenced by that selfishness, I, in a somewhat stoned state, confided in someone that I wanted her to separate from her husband. I know that’s creepy. To be fair to myself, I’m not stalking her, never will. “The silent” (call it love or infatuation)–that never came out in words when it should have–is what has been coming in my way to forge any successful relationship in the present and the future.
  • Academic Masochist: I do nothing by doing a lot of things at the same time. My interests run so wide–rather, whatever remotely mathematical, philosophical or scientific I get in touch with, I get hooked–that I end up running a WWW search in order to find out whatever little I can. This hurts my academic ambitions, but the thought that I know a bit more about another bit calls for satisfaction in the excruciation of my career ambitions.
  • Superficial Friend: There are times when I feel that all my relations suffer because of superficiality on my part. I get the feeling of emptiness time and again and that I’m not putting enough effort to make my relationships prosper and last longer.
  • Slow Mover: It takes me a lot of time and effort to initiate conversations. I take a lot more time [than others] in getting to terms with the situations also. If I’m hurt or glad about something, it takes me very long to get out of that state.
  • Why talk?: In conversations involving more than two people, including me in that count, I tend to listen. Talking seems to be such a laborious exercise, that I chose not talk at all. People get the impression that I seldom talk or that I’m a very good listener, or not quite opinionated. I don’t think so. Given a chance and circumstances, e.g., the threat to life, I can talk. Put a gun at my temple,  you’d hear a parrot talking. To me, otherwise, talking or expressing the self vocally is highly overrated. Writing is a good exercise, but that too feels too  burdening at times.

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