As she was scrolling through some YouTube videos of "How to answer the question, 'Tell us about yourself' in an interview", Aria couldn't really concentrate on it. She knew her heart wasn't in it. It never was. She didn't mind, though. She had always convinced herself that not having a dream or passion was fine as long she could pretend or pull a ruse of having one; or at least, maybe that's how it was for the jack of all trades and master of none. She stole a glance at the books by the table, stacked on top of each other, eating dust, and thought to herself, perhaps she was like the dust; not even THE dust, just a little speck of dust, almost a "nobody", trying to settle down and fit in, only to eventually get wiped away.
The coffee wasn't helping either. Nothing could assist her in denying the fact that no amount of scrolling through Instagram or YouTube or even studying would help her distract her mind from that text she was hoping from that one particular person. She had accepted the fact though, that he was the mysterious kind, like the ones in books and movies, the characters that don't end up in the credits, but leave an impact, giving the plot a turning point, compelling you to wonder how the story would have managed to progress, had it not been for them and their wise words; the ones who could've taken their shot, but didn't, because that's just how unwittingly selfless they are; ignoring their inherent desires and wishes so much so that it almost seems condescending, that they're obtrusively trying to be the bigger person, eventually hurting not just themselves, but also the main character, making it seem like they did the right thing. Aria always had a love hate relationship with these characters. Love mostly, because they made even goodbyes seem like a beautiful thing, nothing less than a treasure. That's exactly how she saw Marvin- a character she had an inclination towards. For all she knew, it was under control. Or maybe not. She didn't want to pay much heed to where it was leading. Although she was restless about not getting a reply for hours, she kept consoling herself that it was fine.
Bored of not being able to find the will to actually look for an answer of "tell us about yourself", she decided to take a break and go to the balcony, stare at the cityscape and just do nothing for a while.
She despised the idea of taking a stroll or meditating to relax. "Why would you DO anything at all, in the name of relaxation? If you're doing something, it's an activity, and activity is the opposite of relaxing.", she would argue, whenever her mother suggested the idea of a walk or meditation. She started observing the sky as it engulfed the last bits of sun, little by little, and then the whole. She would always watch the sunset as a kid, trying to time the exact moment when the sun disappears. It was impossible even up to this day, and this time. It was as if the sky was watching her and didn't want her to know the secret of how the sun just vanishes and blends into it. Well, at least she knew that the sun would be up again the next morning. For Marvin though, she could never tell.
As she stood at the edge of the balcony railing, gazing at the sky, she could hear the distant echoes of the cars honking, picturing the irked drivers, probably because that's how she felt. She had not seen this coming; raising her hackles for someone she almost saw as a fictional character. Trying her hardest to snap out of it, she went back in, to work on her interview cracking skills. She never fixated on any thoughts that associated her fantasy fanaticism with the actual events of her life. For somebody who was preparing to step into the corporate world, being a movie connoisseur with an abundance of interest in reading romance fiction seemed like a heavy price to pay for sanity. She would tell herself that it was just one of the means to escape the real anarchy that the world is and the rat race it conducts. She perennially felt that the fictional realm was the only place where people are treated like they matter, where the world revolves around them, where they are the anchors of the story, and without them, all of it would be nothing. How was she supposed to answer the question, "Tell us about yourself" when she saw nothing but a scarred past, a mundane present and a dystopian future ahead of herself, bereft of anything exciting or even worth the monotonous misery she was pulling through to get to a place she had only deluded herself to think that it was prudent and desired. She knew she was yet to find herself before being able to frame, or to say the least, fabricate an answer to that question. Talking to Marvin made her feel like she was discovering herself; maybe not herself, but some parts of her; parts of her that she loved, parts of her that she hated, parts that she was ready to embrace, and a few parts of her still unknown. Whatever, it was, she liked it. She liked talking to him. She liked having conversations where she was treated like the main character, like she was a mystery being unfolded, little by little. Perhaps this was the reason she never complained about not knowing him at all. She was at ease with contemplating about things about herself she never thought would even cross her mind.
It was getting dark outside. Aria scoffed at how much time she had wasted just to juggle between trying to not care and pretending to study, all the while thinking about him. She conjectured that he probably didn't care at all. Maybe the way he talked to her was not meant just for her. Perhaps it was a personality trait. Trying not to think too much about it, she picked up her pen and diary and turned to the 37th page. She had been journaling all her thoughts ever since her therapist had asked her to pen down everything, two years ago. She still remembered the words of Mrs. Roy, "You need to convert all your negative energy into mechanical energy. Let it all out in these pages." She didn't quite believe her at the time, but as she started journaling with consistency, she realised that it did help her a little. This was the fifth journal she was filling. She sighed and started writing.
28th February, Thursday
How am I supposed to tell someone about myself when I've not even had the moment of my life? I'm not a "someone" of my own. I am a fraction of the people that I meet, the people that I know, and the people that I want to know and meet. For all I know, I'm a criminal and a victim, I'm made of the circumstances and situations I have encountered in my life, the consequences that shaped me. I'm made of moments and memories. And all of these are transient. And that's why, maybe so am I. People change. People leave. Circumstances and situations don't last. Moments pass and memories fade. I can only answer "Tell us about yourself" when I find something constant, something that stays with me for life, something that makes me who I am. And as of now, there's nothing permanent in my life that I can think of, except a hauting past. And that's okay, I guess. Maybe I can lie to them just like I've been lying to myself.
YOU ARE READING
Deliberately Destined
General FictionAria's mundane life changes when she meets her potential love, Marvin, for the first time, after an entire year of conversations just on the internet. However, things don't seem to fall in place when she discovers that they didn't just happen to kno...
