Confessions of the Average Joe

She was Maya, or more precisely, she is Maya. I am me; I remain nameless, because it doesn’t matter. I saw her the first time when we entered college. There I was sitting at the back of the class, without a single friend, and she entered, giggling with a dozen more girls. They were all what you’d call “Babes” in local-speak, but to me, Maya stood out (Of course I didn’t know her name then!).

Maya was gorgeous. There I go again, writing was. Maya is gorgeous. Man, this writing business is getting sick. I can’t help but write that ‘was’ kind of language. But oh yeah, we were speaking of Maya. Maya has light brown eyes, and her complexion is flawless. But no, that’s not what I noticed; it wasn’t her lovely brown hair. No I guess I was just smitten. It’s a feeling one can’t explain. It’s like the hunger pangs you feel after a good morning workout, not that I have ever gone to any, but I guess I’d be the hungriest then, if I ever did go.

Salil noticed her too. He was sitting in front of me. He was in my 12th classes, so I knew him slightly. No one really knows me. I don’t like it. Why should everyone know my innermost feelings? They wouldn’t remain innermost then, would they? I mean I can’t understand people who say I have nothing to hide, what are they? Some kind of gods? Like that other buffoon Lien Sitarsh. He keeps on quoting idiotic poems, and writing banal stories, revolving around meaningless themes, copying his plot from ‘The Sixth Sense’. Why, he even wrote “Invictus” on his pants!

Someday I’ll write a novel, it’ll make peoples heads turn, it’ll make them cry. What’s so difficult about making people laugh, just because Khushwant Singh said so? It’s more difficult to make them cry, because it exposes people, makes them feel weak, vulnerable. They won’t cry, but I will make them.

Salil, he was the extreme. Out he went with his char-anna bit of personality, and put out his frail hand and said, “Hey! I’m Salil, welcome to our class! What’s your name?”.

I looked on expectantly; this moment would decide whether my opinion of “her” was correct.

“Maya”, she said with such coldness, that it made Salil pull his hand back. She did it! I was head over heels in love. My Mona Lisa, my Juliet, no… it wasn’t good enough, she was my very own Maya.

In time, I learnt more about her. She was rich, flashing that mobile all the time. She always seemed to be talking. I often wondered where all the energy came from, and also all the money for that mobile. She was friendly, but only within her group, them she’d always be with. Even when they went to the loo! Now, it wasn’t like I was noticing, but I just happened to do so. It filled me with rage to see my pretty Maya’s pictures drawn in the guy’s loo. They made her seem so, so, so cheap! God, couldn’t they leave her alone, so disproportionate, so repulsive. I never thought of her that way. No way. All my thoughts were chaste.

That reminds me of the debate I had with Lien, most of the time he spoke, and I listened. He prided himself on being a debater, personally I thought his voice sucked, but I’m not one to say my thoughts out loud.

“What do you mean you don’t find her attractive physically? Hell, that’s how most people notice in Maya in any case!” he said.

“No. I can’t think of her that way, its wrong. One must admire the other facets of the person…”, I began.

“Other facets”, he burst out laughing…”The only thing Maya has are her physical assets!” then he laughed again, complimenting his own lousy poetry.

“You are too cynical. I love Maya for what she is. Her beauty is secondary.”

“Man, tell me, what’s with you? What else can you like her for? Her attitude stinks, she’s arrogant, mean, and has no brains whatsoever, so what do you like in her?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”, I cut him off. I can’t argue with him, no one can. He can’t understand that there’s something beyond physical attraction.

I’m a dreamer. I dream of my own little house in the suburbs, where I come in after a tired day, she she’s there, with her saree tucked, and a little worked up, and I go quietly from behind and grab her. How incredibly romantic! Why don’t those others who call themselves dreamers, Why can’t they be a little realistic in their dreams? I mean why always talk of big houses on the side of a lake, and the sun sinking in the crevice of the mountains.

She never really noticed me. But the fools, I told them. I still wonder why. And why can’t they let a guy like a girl in peace? I mean him alone, not telling the whole world. They told her! That was the biggest mistake of my life, to tell them. She glanced over her shoulder, when one of her friends pointed out to me. She just stared and stared, and then she did something terrible. She came to me… And smiled! Gosh, I’ve never been so humiliated in my life. I wanted to run away, I wanted the ground to split, swallow me up. I just turned away and walked fast. I would’ve run, except it would have seemed even funnier! She found the entire episode funny! She just giggled! And laughed…

But my love for her was undying. I tried many times. I told myself that Hindi films are not true; that a rich girl like her, and a poor boy like me couldn’t ever be together, but afsos, it didn’t help.

She’ll always look at me that way. A fixed stare, no love in it. She seems to pity me and no more. Then I learnt she was going out with that guy Raj. I balked. How could she? I always hated three letter names. No personality in it. He had no personality either, just a loud mouth. How come girls never know what’s good for them? I could show her the world. And then I saw her walk with him hand in hand, outside college. I’ve never felt worse in my life. Why not me? Why don’t I have that money? I’m so much better. Doesn’t being just an average Joe count for anything? I spent my evening listening to “The actor” by MLTR, how true the song rings. I tried to write poetry that evening, but nothing would come to mind. I just wasn’t cut out to be a poet. Father often asks me what is it that I’m cut out to be, he doesn’t know. I have big plans. What they are I don’t know, but I’ll have my place in the sunlight someday.

I had a weird dream the other night, I dreamt she was lying in bed beside me, and we were, well, uh.. uh… kis.. just fooling around. I woke up with a start. NO! I could not think of such things. It’s impure, it’ll spoil my mind. I slapped myself hard, to tell myself to not think this way.

But with what happened today, my life has changed. I must write it here, and then destroy this paper, so that no one knows of this.

It was the annual program today, and all of us were sitting in the auditorium. Much to my delight Maya was sitting in front of me. That idiot Prakash was beside her of course (She broke up with Raj yesterday… now Prakash is the new squeeze). I could see her lovely auburn hair in front of me. I could smell the shampoo she always used. Today she seemed totally oblivious to my presence. The lights dimmed. The dances started, there are always so many! I don’t understand the logic behind shaking a leg to hindi film songs. I’d always prefer to be in the audience and watch.

The dances continued. Suddenly I noticed Maya wasn’t in front of me any more. But her friends were. Guess she must have gone to answer nature’s call. Then I smelt her. But not in front, but beside me! She put her hands around me and said “Darling…” I sat stiff. Her hand ran over my shirt, and touched my locket of Sathya Sai Baba. Then she stopped abruptly! “Oh my GOD!” I heard her mutter along with a few bad words. Then she left.

It was only a few seconds, but it seemed like eternity to me. My entire life flashed before my eyes. I thought unchaste thoughts I couldn’t even dream of writing here. Never ever. My feelings about her have been ruined. Could she really be like Lien said she was? Could she be so physical? No, I refuse to believe it. But I must. My mind is all confused. My thoughts are incoherent. What all did she do? What all has she done? My pure, virginal Maya has disappeared. In place of the pure white, all I see is a dark clouded mess. I’m terrified. I had to write this. I had to have my release. I must tear this of course. No one should ever know.

Maya, I loved you, but all you are is a bloody slut!
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“You know what?” Maya giggled excitedly to her friend, “You know Chaman Charlie in our class? Yeah the same one who’s so fida over me? Yesterday Radhika thought he was Aman, and put her hands around him! God, isn’t that so funny?!?!”