Necessary Syndromes

I had a friend, his name was Prad. One might think of it as a weird name but It is not a weird name, it is similar to Brad but with a ‘P’ instead of a ‘B’. When I was little and thought of the world as my playground, I had a bunch of other kids whom I called friends and amongst them there was one whom I was closer to than the rest.

I believed that we had an invincible bond of understanding of each others mind and that no matter what we’d be friends and value that forever. This was long before I realized that my world was not just a play ground. I hadn’t know of the true face of the world that I was about to encounter.

The day came… I, my family had plans. I was about to leave the hell that I wasn’t aware of, still thinking of it as a place of sheer joyfulness. This too I would only come to know years after I have left this place And That; I wouldn’t able to live a decent, happy life…. no not here. My mother came to the realization and figured that it was time to leave.

And the world, as usual with its reputation of working in weird ways, once again worked its way. A few days before we left Prad met with an accident and died. Yes-- I was shaken and sad. I was always paranoid of death and of things that I care of drifting away from me. I had nightmares after that and sometimes the overwhelming feeling of paranoia that hurts badly inside.

So we moved, literally moving on-- I am not exaggerating here but this new place was nothing at all like the place I was used to. However, I didn’t bother, it was new and I thought of it as my new playground. That was before we reached our new home. My old home was easily 10 times bigger than this one. The occupants in it didn’t appear as enthusiastic as I was, immediately made me thinking, now that I think about it, it was one of my earliest lesson of growing up.

And just like that everything else I left behind became my past, a vague distant memory.

Here I am a new beginning in a foreign place with foreign people who would teach me about many- many things. I started schooling and realized that I wasn’t looked at as a normal person. I was fun to poke with and so they poked to their delight, being kids oblivious to their actions towards others. Although, I didn’t realize it at that time but I clearly felt the effect. That was when I learned that people judge people.

After a few period of time passing, I realized that my world wasn’t a playground and that it was revealed to me very abruptly, without any warning….the day I left my old ‘playground’. I also realized that I couldn’t find someone to replace my best friend. The people here were different, that was what I said to myself.

Most of the times I dreamed about my past and the experiences that I’ve once experienced, and not all of them were good ones. This one was a painful memory-- Once as I was playing, running around my playground I accidentally hit an enormous wall- glass and it, right in front of my eyes began to drastically fall apart, making a huge shattering noise while it was at it. The huge glass now turned into thousands of small glasses spreading all over the ground. Later few other images appeared in my mind, I call it the aftermath. The adults started blaming each other and started fighting which eventually led to separation. After that, I had a notion about guilt and fear.

I also had a deep cut at the bottom of my back, it scarred me and it became something I was proud of showing off when someone started talking about the event and wanted proof of the story.

I still remember once I was holding this huge rock and when I couldn’t hold it anymore, I let it fall on my right toe, I witnessed my whole nail leaving my toe, I am quite sure it hurt like hell and I cried.

It was lonesome, this new place; I had to create mind games of my own to keep myself entertained. Of course I wasn’t aware of that then but now that I think about it, I am guessing that’s what it was, self made mind games.

It was also weird when before everyone was keen of me…now around here I sensed resentment. I think I know why they acted the way they did. I took it as they were putting up some sort of defense mechanism to the unfamiliarity. Maybe I was disrupting their daily lives. At times when their hate got to me I swore that one day I’d tell them how they treated me.

Among all the lessons I’ve come across this one was an eye opener and perhaps the most painful one: I came to understand that people treated you better when they think that you’re wealthy. 1, I understood why people were keen of me during my ‘playground’ days. 2, it might be the reason why the people here are not very keen of me.

The funny thing was everyone appeared religious and prayed a lot. And appear to have no inclination towards material wealth. I come to think of it as a form of ‘decoration’ to the self and especially to others.

As expected, I was beginning to isolate myself before getting any hints of displeasure. All I could do was think, question and contemplate. I never really did get any answers or solutions but I kept on thinking and questioning anyway.

One day as I walking back home, right beneath the striking sun which at that moment was also showing signs of hatred towards me. Torturing me with its heat and draining the energy out of me. I was walking and sweating badly, looking at the passing cars as I walked, carrying some really heavy books in my bag that was strapped to my shoulders.

I wasn’t eager to reach home so I slowed my pace and took the longer route back. I had this weird feeling that someone was looking at me and would frequently turn around looking for a pair of staring eyes. I didn’t find one.

As I reached a huge building, I was nearing the resting place it was a place where some of the kids whom had to walk back home would sit and rest at the pavement shadowed by huge trees. It was well sheltered and had a safe vibe around it.

As I reached there, before I started my resting session -- I surveyed my surrounding looking for familiar faces and as I was doing that I found a pair of eyes staring directly at my direction. As our eyes met, I was wrapped with fear and this overwhelmingly astonishment which unable me to move for a few moments. I took another look and there was no mistake, it was Prad and I realized that I was still dumbfounded and couldn’t move.

I must be losing my mind, I heard my mind say. He just continued staring, both his palms rested on his cheeks and his elbows planted on his knees, not doing anything else. He was fully focused on staring at me not even blinking. I tried to lift my feet up a little bit and realized that I was able to do so. I started pacing away from him, it was a weird feeling. I’d say feelings because it really was a combination of feelings.

As I got almost 15 feet away from him I glanced back and just like I thought he was still staring at me. I don’t know what came to me but I suddenly had the courage to walk back. I stood right in front of him and slowly announced, “You’re dead.”

I noticed a tiny satisfied smirk on his face as if I re-acted exactly how he thought I would. He then replied, “Do I look dead to you?”

I said: I don’t know, you tell me

He said: I certainly am not now am I? Considering that you are talking and seeing me.

I observed him for a while more--he looked harmless. So I came closer to him and sat beside him. I started raining him with questions and he answered them patiently, that part of him I truly adored, the ability to remain patient and steadily respond.

Soon enough we became friends, once again. He wasn’t the old Prad I knew but still he kept me company which meant a lot to me. He was always there when I needed a friend. I no longer felt all empty inside. And life looked slightly better than it used to.

When we ran out of idea on what to talk about, we always walked around and if there were people, we’d find a hidden spot and observe them. We normally picked a high isolated spot so that we could see everything that was going on beneath us -- The busy cars passing by, people in their houses watching their TV, doing their chores, and not forgetting the people who busied themselves with work even at home.

Often witnessing how people are, Prad liked to imitate his favorite scholars and said with a straight face in a serious tone, “Of all the ridiculous things, it seems to me that the most ridiculous of all is to be busy in the world, to be a man who is prompt for his meals and quick about his work. So when I see a fly perch on the nose of a business man in a crucial moment, or see him splashed by a wagon which passes him in even greater haste, or a roof tile falls and kills him, then I laugh from the bottom of my heart. And how could anyone keep from laughing? What do they accomplish, these busy bodies? Aren’t they like the housewives who in her agitation when the house was on fire saved the fire tongs? What more do they rescue from life’s great conflagration?”

He liked to quote the people he respected and I remember this one because he told me this more than ones—“I saw the meaning of life was to obtain a livelihood, its goal was to become a minor official; that the rich desire of love is to get a wealthy girl; that the blessing of friendship was to help one another in financial difficulties. That wisdom was what the majority took it to be; that enthusiasm consist of making a speech; that it was courage to dare to lose a few dollars; that cordiality in saying ‘you’re welcome’ after a meal that it is piety to go to commune once in a year. This I saw and laughed.”

Of course I didn’t understand what he meant by saying those ‘remarkable words’ as he would like to call it. Funny thing was I had it in my memory all along and now that I am a little more grownup I guess I am able to comprehend what he meant by saying what he said.

As I spent more time in this foreign place, though I wasn’t as happy as I used to be I was slowly adapting and learning their ways. Prad existence was part of my life now, though he only appeared when I was feeling hopeless and lost. I wondered how he knew how I was feeling to suddenly emerge from no where.

I started to have friends now, not close friends but just people who know of my existence. I was happy, I was progressing.

And as more time passed by I grew attached to this bunch of kids and, among the lot I found one who I could tolerate albeit this time it was a girl.

I was beginning to get slowly accepted and I started feeling normal once again despite our differences. One night as I was getting ready to get to bed as a matter of fact I was almost drifting off to sleep-- Prad materialized. He was sitting at the edge of the bed with his legs dangling down. I could see his motion and the outline of his body amidst the darkness.

He had a look in his face which was strange to me and if I am not mistaken it was looked distressed. He quietly took hold of my arm and gripped it firmly. I tried to take it back but his grip was too strong. I was now sitting on my bed in which I started to struggle. He wanted to take me somewhere but he didn’t say where. I was too overwhelmed with fear and uncertain feelings rushing in my head. I was incapable to say anything. He was now standing on the bed with his back facing the wall.

I was by now already standing with him and trying with all my might to fight him off. He was just unnaturally too strong. What I saw next made the hairs behind my neck stand, his back and part of his leg, was slowly fusing in the wall behind him in the darkness. My shock distracted me for a few seconds and Prad took this chance to pull me even harder in it. Most of Prad was already in the wall and I began to feel defeat and give up hope. I was an inch away from the wall with Prad’s hands still on my shoulder.

Losing the will to fight physically I managed to open my mouth this time and vaguely utter the word, no. and just like that I felt the grip loosening and I felt back to my bed and I was so worn out that I wasn’t conscious anymore. The following morning I woke up with bruises and with a terrible headache. I also knew that it was the end of Prad.

When I got out of my bed and out of the room I noticed my mother looking more cheerful than normal. That was a rare sight, I thought to myself. I was sure that something good had happened and when she saw me, she briskly walked to where I was standing and pulled me to a chair nearby and as she sat herself down tried to calm herself down and muttered, “I could see that you’re having difficulty to adapt and settle down here. Well guess what? This is your lucky day-- your aunt Pat just called and said that she want us to live with her and so we are leaving to a (foreign country) different place by next month, cheer up buddy!” she patted me at my back a couple of times and with that she went of with her jolly expression leaving me alone.

'Happy Entry'

I've been wanting to update my blog. But this time i wanted to diversify, be creative and come up with something lighter and maybe brighter.

So far, the closest i've come to is on thinking of an idea on what to write about. This is when I realized that i've reached a dead end before even starting. I simply don't know of anything lively/ positive to write about. Ironically I consider myself as an optimist.

I am now thinking that I don't express myself as freely when it comes to happy, positive things, which is quite unfair to myself and perhaps to others as well. Yes, this is worrying.

A friend of mine once said that I focus too much on the negative aspects of my life. I thought about it, and just maybe might be the reason on why I fail to recognize the good things that happens. I am sure the people who know me in real life are somewhat nodding in agreement, but on a whole that's not entirely true. So yeah, refrain from nodding.

Anyhoo..I'll just stick to the boring whinnings which gives me a feeling of satisfaction and the believe that I've spent my free time productively. Guess what? without realizing it I managed to come up with a new whinny entry to post up. Looking at the bright side, I atleast succeeded in posting up a new entry.