Passion

I have known passion. Passion that claws you from the inside, dragging its sharp nails through your innards, shredding your soul into bits and pieces; passion that makes your blood boil and makes you feel giddy with excitement all at the same time; passion which seeps through every living cell in your body, the only thing driving you forward in life.

I knew this kind of passion when I was fifteen, sixteen years old. I would long to come home form school just so I could read more books. I felt most alive when I was writing, building characters and stories in my head.

Now… Well, now, my passion has mellowed out. My life is no longer a simple equation like “dreams + free time = realization of dreams”. The variables have increased. My life equation now is more like “dreams + unavailable free time + working my ass off at the office + exhaustion + washing + cleaning + cooking + worrying about my future + listening to my parents worry about my future + maintaining good relationships with my school, college and work friends = realization of my dreams after a decade (maybe)”.

The sad truth is that even though I’m not chasing my dream (of becoming a writer) right now, even though I’m, as I mentioned before, working my ass off at the office, I don’t hate working in an IT company. It’s really not so bad. The people I work with are amazing and I actually have fun at work. Which scares me. I am afraid that I would soon become too complacent about my lot in life and not even attempt to attain something more. I have been feeling more and more guilty about this for the past few days.

And guilt, my friend, can be a powerful motivator. Guilt made me boot up my laptop and start a fresh draft of a story that has been building in my mind for some time. Guilt made me pick up my pencils and start sketching again. I wouldn’t say my creative juices are a-flowing like the River Nile, but they are definitely starting to trickle.

After the one hour writing sesh and another one hour of sketching, I felt spent like I had just had the most amazing sex of my life (I’m only guessing that’s what the most amazing sex of my life would feel like because, psst, I’m a v-v-virgin). I feel good. I feel light and happy.

P.S.: When I was writing this post, “Adam’s Song” by Blink-182 started playing in my head. Especially the following verses:

I never conquered, rarely came
16 just held such better days
Days when I still felt alive
We couldn’t wait to get outside
The world was wide, too late to try
The tour was over we’d survived
I couldn’t wait till I got home
To pass the time in my room alone

I Like Him, I Like Him Not

So, there’s this guy in my office. I kinda, sorta like him. I think he likes me too. The only problem is that I think he likes me more than I like him. This is a problem I often face. I like guys, but not so much that they’re all I think about.

At first, I thought this guy, S, and I wouldn’t mesh. He seemed too conservative, too “South Indian”. But then today, we bonded over our mutual love of a particular TV show. We talked about our opinion on Hindu – Muslim weddings. After today, he seems a bit more compatible with me. But only a bit, mind you.

So, here’s my dilemma. Should I encourage him when he flirts with me, or should I nip this in the bud? Should I flirt back just because we like the same things, or should I act more friendly, less flirty with him? Or am I overthinking this whole thing? Should I just go with the flow?

S doesn’t make my head spin, so I can’t really like him that much, can I? Or maybe this is what crushes feel like once you’re an adult? Maybe they are not as intense as teenage crushes. Maybe the kinda love you read about in books and watch in movies – the kind which makes the blood boil in your veins, which makes your heart pump frantically, which is all consuming and passionate – only exists in books and movies. Or am I confusing lust with love?

I wish there was a way to tell if this is the real deal.