The eternally confused sort. That's what I am. Have been. And will always be. In ways I suppose I am proud of it. It takes talent to be as confused as I am.
Though it took me a while to actually come down to studying what I am now (supposed to be. But blogging seems viable at the moment), which I am happy to say is genetics, I am still a little... understatement, highly unsure about life. In my defense, none of us are. Okay some are. Alright a lot of us our. An example would be my friend Siddhartha Iyer. He's a psycho lunatic. But a focused and very sensible moron nonetheless. Very much like me in that way.
My decision of coming to Australia is something I think about ALL the time. Sure I am a lot different than the person I was a few years ago, with all the working and studying and what not. But am I really different? Wait. What? See what I mean? Before I left India, I had pictured myself changing and becoming more and more Australian (the accent and all that) as the years went by. Comparing myself to me then, I can happily say I still sound as Indian as can be. Maybe I have gained a few kilograms with all the KFC and McDonalds but that's all good. My love for soccer has increased though the amount I get to play is far less than I'd like. I am too poor to afford a car even though I have a valid international license. To all you lucky people with cars, the day I own one, it'll be kick ass. And I will say this to you "Hahahahahahahaha in your face suckers!".
This place here is differently nice and weird in its own ways. With the media hype about students being attacked and stuff, I cannot deny the racism here. It's something you have to get used to. Or you could end up going Bruce Lee on the offender's ass. Take your pick.
My uncle and I have chats about the happening here and in India. Somehow, all the corruption, pollution, crowded cities all seem so much more inviting. From where I am at, the grass maybe yellow on the other side, but that's the grass I have lived on. And I long for it. Oh and chaat too. Memorable raj kachori times.
It's been a while since I have been back home. It is killing me. I miss mum's cooking and our fights, I miss my cute little baby sister and my dad. I miss my friends and I daresay I will never make friends like the closest ones I have. Somewhere on the horizon I can see a place ticket. But if you have been on a boat or by the sea and had a clear view of it, you will know how deceiving the horizon can be. Damn you horizon. Damn you.
With everything good or bad, I am not looking bad at what could have been. You have watch cliched hindi movies with "kya hota agar..." and "shayad...". No. Nada. Na. Nope. I think what is done is done. We move on. I suppose I have too. Not a 100%. But distant enough.
The wheels go round. And by that I am referring to the ones on my bicycle. Ooo look KFC. Saiyonara Suckers
