Prince Lev Nikolayevich Myshkin

Beauty'll save the world. (from Dostoevsky's Idiot) The prince's confidence could have been true, if only, beauty itself is saved from its death.

Prince Andrew's death(Tolstoy's War & Peace) didn't move me much, whereas my friends got considerably disturbed. So I took myself to have been better immunized against emotional stories. But while reading The Idiot, this is how I felt. Except the prince, everybody else is a 'Me'. Too complex and torturous and these are the kind of souls, whom we can never decide to be good or bad. I reckon myself belonging to this group. Prince who is new to live in a society, loves people. He is much pleased to forgive them when they call him an idiot and goes far to believe, they might be true in a way. He talks much better than an educated, though he is never formally educated and befriends all, who take him to a foe. I don't know, when I got impressed with the prince, I never found it until the prince asks Rogozhin with curiosity about the weapon he used for the murder, while, quite a different feeling is expected from him. My shawl got wet with tears. Never before, did it happen for a book. I know, I wasn't crying for anybody's death or the sad ending of the story, but for the pure goodness and the pity, the prince possessed for others. After finishing the book, I felt like, I had always been there at Epachin's and listened to the Prince talking about the capital punishment, the economical condition of Russia, and about the Beauty redeeming the world. Now I crazily hope, Evegenie Pavlovich will write to me about Prince's health, like he is doing to Vera Lebedeff.

I know, it is just a story, and a person like Prince, could never be born. Still, I fancy, Prince is not a character, but someone I met on my way. I hope, Beauty is not all dead. I hope, there are still few seeds left to be planted deep in the earth. I wish, beauty will reborn and shower its spell on everything. I hope, Beauty'll save the world.

Failed attempts

I wanted to be called a bitch, the cool one. Somehow, I thought, smoking and boozing will help me for that. My classmates already tagged me arrogant, so it wouldn't be difficult to get the status I wanted. I asked Mr . X, to teach me how to smoke. He thought, I was kidding and took no notice of it. When I said, I was very serious about smoking, he said OK and told me to try 'More', which is commonly used by the women smokers. We fixed a day for that. Mr. X bought the cigarette for me while coming from his hostel. We met at the sports room near the football ground. Smoking and drinking are not allowed in the campus. but everybody knows, it is the safest place if one is little better than an idiot. So we waited till a love couple had their moonlight crap stories and we had some dirty jokes on them till they left the place. He took out the cigarette and the match box from his pocket. More was brown in colour and too long for starters like me. I looked at it with wonder telling myself, 'this is how a cigarette looks like!". I made some trials to hold it in style without lightening. Mr. X heard some noise from the room. He asked me to hide the cigarette. We checked if there were any inside the room, but there was none, and that could have been just the rattling because of the wind. I lighted the cigarette. Mr. X told me all the basic lessons how I shall not make it wet with saliva. how to hold it between lips and how to inhale the smoke. how I shall make the smoke go up in the wind pipe. I tried well to do it sincerely. But in the 'fag' end, that seemed not at all exciting and I had a slight choke. That was how I dropped out of my smoking classes.

This was another time, when I wanted to try a drink. By that time, Mr. X wasn't surprised, for he understood that I wasn't the same I look. Nashi also joined me. Sowmy and Raj, who would straight away oppose a scandal like this, were not in the campus. So that day only, we planned for the drink party at our favourite place, the football ground. Mr. X and me left for Lingampally to get the drink and told Nashi to be at the ground by 8.30pm. He bought a quarter bottle of some local brand and some eatables to have with drink. We were back in the campus and were waiting at the football ground for Nashi. Mr. X was a bit nervous and started imagining what if that security guard asks me to show what is in it? What if we are caught and are sent to VC's room?. He scared me with all his apparitions. We both were in hurry to finish it off in no time. But Nashi didn't show up. I called Nashi and said something nasty for her unpunctuality. She was hurt. When she finally came there, we settled on the ground in a circle with the bottle at the center of the circle. Nashi was calm, and didn't speak much. I observed that and said "Now, what? You already half-spoiled this beautiful evening by coming late. So you don't need to look at me like that" Nashi broke down her composed state and queued in to my words saying that she wants an explanation for the nasty thing I said on phone. Oh! these women! we say hundred things, when irritated. we don't exactly know the meaning and logic for each word. We both flared up and fired words at each other. When it had been too un-manageable even for Mr. X, I took my bicycle and left for the hostel.

PS: Mr. X doesn't want me to reveal his name though half the people who read it will know who he is.

Midnight reflection

Pradeep called me up few minutes before midnight ( Of course he was on! ) to ask me if I do care to plan for a day out. Yes, It was months since we last met. I think, it was for Sri's wedding reception. And, I'm not even calling Nashi for a weekly-hi. Even if I wanted, I rarely call Soumy as I am afraid, I would just be wasting her time with my prattle. She looks lean, but works like, she is not one, but ten inside. Pradeep repeated his question, adding "I feel like left alone". I know, how he talks, when he is on. He reveals himself just like a kid without any pride. Believe me, this is the only time, I could answer his questions without argument. I said, I don't want to meet anybody this time. May be I was too rude to say that. But that is the truth. I remembered Soumy saying "Do you people know why we became friends? Of all the people here, very few are like us ( not in the likes and dislikes, but the way we are. like school kids. we find happiness just being with each other). For all else, it is in the grades they get. and also the number of years they lived is inversely proportional to the number of friends they have and even to the quality of the relation. One becomes acutely objective and conceited with age. But we are an exception!" I pondered upon these words and suspected if I am getting too old. But surely, I don't have any sort of objective. I couldn't find out why everything has become so palled for me, which was once jubilant and rocking. I am not at all depressed or anything. In fact, quite happy, when I don't think about these things.

I counselled Pradeep for half-an-hour on something related to his philosophical and troublesome questions. After I hung up, read for some time and started thinking about the question I had for myself. I raked my brain with bisection method, converged at the following 'possible' possibilities for my dud behaviour towards my friends.

1. Somewhere in the nook of my mind, I may not be finding them as equals. I may be too much above myself. But I wonder, if I've really become egoistic to this extreme.

2. May be, I am getting bored when they talk.

3. May be, I am just enjoying to be alone.

4. For some unknown reason, I may not like them to think, that I miss them.

5. The last chance would be, I may want to involve too much of myself in the work and planning for the 'objective' of my career.

6. May be the real cause is missed out!