Today while I walked in blissful sand, I realised how much Ive started to analyze.
I analyze everything.
From the shoes she wears, to the way he’s done his hair.
His expression, my voice, her movements.
I analyze in ways that are bordering on mental breakdown.
What does this mean, what does that mean?
What does this-and-that mean?
Im being told constantly to live in the now.
And all I can think about is when I needed to be told.
I used to be the kind of person who never used to plan her day.
I just knew that it had to involve a lemon tart or a CCD cookie.
I used to be the kind of person that did.
A person who wandered around Bandra with 5 rupees without hyperventilating
A person who skipped a Political Science exam to chill at Subway and Crosswords
with 3 other people I convinced to bunk the exam with me.
The kind of person who did the salsa and the jive barefooted under the twinkly lights of Candies.
Im scary now.
I hyperventilate if the strap on my sandal breaks.
If I see my boyfriends ex wearing an Arsenal jersey.
If Im late for a Sudu lecture.
If I dont get my chai and toast on time.
If my hair isnt the "right" kind of curly.
If I see SS commenting on someone’s very "average" rear end.
If Im 5 minutes late for movie.
Yes, Ive become quite the scary person.
So in the spirit of tomorrow being another day
Im getting the now back.
Where I let my hair have its mood swings & not care
Where I let my moods decide what I wear and not logic
Where the longer chai&toast takes to come, the more time I spend in SS’s comfort
Where I dont focus on the ex and what she wears, but on us and olives
Where I dont analyze any kind of this-or-that.
Hell, in the now that I shall begin to live in, "Where you at dawg?" could be the most romantic line ever.
Ok, maybe not.
But it could have virtues that scary anal people just dont see.
Heres to Now.