MIA and Why- Day Thirty Six to Day Forty Five

She felt her throat close up as she sipped her evening chai. As the evening progressed, her voice deepened to a low, droning gruffness. She sat there, under the fan- for it was hot, and wondered where the germs came from. They may have been giggling from inside her, rolling along her epithelium in roars of laughter, but she would've never known; for she's not only much larger than those little buggers, but is also slightly deaf in her left ear. Shouldn't we be able to hear smaller creatures' whispers better if our ears are larger? But then again, we're no elephant. As she reclined that night upon her shapeless pillow, she wondered if her voice would return. She stared up at the ceiling wondering absently, slowly beginning to feel the onset of phlegm. She decided to put herself to the ultimate test; she closed her eyes and sang Rolling In The Deep. It sounded like a broken recorder...under water...muffled by a sea sponge. Annoyed, she fell asleep.

The next day, she couldn't hear herself. Two cups of tea and a tumbler of warm water didn't help. In fact, it just made her feel hotter and return to her spot on the floor under the fan. Phlegm began to rise up and cause some sniffles. The voice she did get out was now nasal. She didn't dare to sing.

The next morning, she woke up with her eyelids trapped shut. It felt like a cat was sitting on her face, not letting her eyelids budge. But she soon realized it was some weird goo that was holding them together. She beheld a sickly spectacle while she brushed her teeth- one with puffy, bloodshot eyes and a leaky nose. It was hideous.

She spent the next few days battling this barrage of sickness by going to college, taking train rides, talking incessantly and eating sheera. She did put some eye drops every once in a while- she isn't that careless.

This girl, she has a blog, which is coincidentally called Teental as well. She neglected this blog through her blurry-eyed-mucous-nosed days and so, decided to pile up all her bouts of happiness in this one long post.

Ta-dee-dah.

Day Thirty Six: The long lost poem.

Day Thirty Seven: The Wodehouse book and the quiet college.

Day Thirty Eight: The First OG Meeting. Of productivity and procrastination.

Day Thirty Nine: Colourful bangles and a train ride.
 

Day Forty: Pajamas, candles and a light from above.

Day Forty One: The day the cat sat still.

Day Forty Two: Garlic toast, sheera and two cups of chai.

Day Forty Three: Musical feet.

 

Day Forty Four: The official WSD volunteer.

Day Forty Five: The dirt-cheap book sale.

Day Thirty Five

My photograph for today is one of a CD which was given to me by someone incredibly special.

I put the CD into my laptop and put my earphones on. I was welcomed by a soothing voice talking about what was on the CD. The recording went on to talk about the first song on the list and about why that song was on the CD. Then, the song started to play, and I had on my face the warmest of smiles. The collection of songs is both uncommon and exceptional. The playlist includes songs which are new to me, songs I've heard of before, songs which mean something to us, songs which move me personally and songs that I could listen to always. Each song is preceded by a short recording which talks about why that song is on the disc and what it means.

This gift was inspired from the mixed tapes that Charlie and his friends exchanged in Perks Of Being A Wallflower. That itself made my insides squirm. I was ecstatic when I was given the CD, but it wasn't until later that night when I got home and listened to it that I realized just how beautiful this little present was and just how much joy it would bring. As the songs rolled by and as this incredibly special friend kept talking to me, I went through a wide range of emotions. I smiled, I danced, I swayed, I cried. But throughout, I had warm currents of happiness flowing through my body. I put off the lights, closed my eyes and listened. And I felt like I was feeling beauty, like the music was speaking to me, like it was blowing cool air onto my neck and giving me goosebumps. I was content and happy, I was a nervous wreck. I was moved to tears not only by the wondrous melodies, but also by the thought that this incredibly special person thought of and wanted to put these songs together.

Listening to this one hour's worth of music was nothing short of an emotional journey. Somehow, it walked me through our memories and the past, it showed me the joy in the present and made me look forward to the future. It made me realize how much of our lives we share and how much we mean to each other. It's hard to imagine a world without this friend, a friend who perhaps knows me better than I know myself. It's not just the jokes or conversations or food or train rides we share, it's our lives.

Everything's painted in colourful music.

Day Thirty Four

I got a new OG-diary; one that I will be using from today through August. My little diary excited me, just like any new stationery does. I drew a petrified Calvin on the first page with my favourite Bill Watterson poem surrounding him.

This diary is the start of something wonderful and exciting. I can't wait to fill it with ideas, dates, logs and other important things. I can picture myself thirty years from today, climbing up a ladder and finding this little book at the top of some dusty, old cupboard; and then opening it up to find memories of the one Malhar which was most special to me.

I am quite the romantic fool at times, am I not?