Burning Old Letters

Some winter night in 2006

Cuddled alone inside a sleeping bag. Laptop balanced precariously on the swell of my tummy...I contemplate the exquisite design of my paunch. Still had not reached the potbelly proportions of cartoons, but still was prominent enough to be a noticeable attribute...Like "You know Bala? The chubby guy?"

Fact of the matter is I am not your quintessential chubby guy. My cheeks are not the kind that go pink when pinched. Nor do they offer much purchase for pinchers, either way...

Maybe people think chubby is politespeak for paunchy or fat...But I digress...Anyway So here I am cold and sleepless. Wondering what went wrong with my life and why. In a scientific exploration mode, I look to the past. I surf through old emails that I have never had the heart to delete.

And I am talking about a mailbox from my pre-gmail pre-multi-GB email accounts. bala420@mailcity.com. So I was picky about what emails I stored. That was right until lycos jumped into the gmail bandwagon and pumped up storage to a Gig...
Since then I have left that mailbox unchecked. Somewhere in my heart I wish for this mailbox to be spammed to its electronic death. But I still remember having moved my precious undeleted emails to a folder where they were away from the spam. Far from the madding crowd so to speak.

I see you there and all your hundred moods. Playful, sad, excited and dejected. Again with no saved emails on my sent folder and never a completely saved email chain, I do not remember or recall if I responded right to you. Was I supportive when you expected me to be? Was I attentive when you needed attention? Did I rejoice in your victories, small and great?

I don't see proof for this but I delude myself into thinking that I did...


Timestamps fly and so do timezones. Your last emails are distant cold and business like. Not that you are using harsh words or being business like. It is just that the spontaneity died, then the number of words and then finally the emails altogether.

And you know what? You are not the only one either. Everyone on my list...it is the absolute grinding down of wheels as everyone is coming to a halt.

So is it a global malady with all of you or that I have degenerated into a hopeless case that no one wants anything to do with me anymore.

And so the years will pass. I might see you again with a memory of what you were and the reality of what you are to reconcile to. Selfishly I hope that we never meet as I can easily delude myself into thinking that everything is okay rather than realize that it isn't.

So I escape...Pour myself another glass of the devil spirit and fall asleep. It is warm and loosens my mind. It wanders. Pink Floyd and Metallica wash over me comfortingly. I slip. I slide. Fade to black and wake with an emotional hangover.


Some night in 2007

Alcohol does nothing for me anymore...I have done stupid things under the influence...confided in utter strangers...A lot of other bull. I tell myself to resolve against alcohol from now on. I stick to it. 672 hours and counting....