Category Archives: Life Story

Answering Proust

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So I found the Proust Questionnaire and I thought of answering it. Like the ghost of Christmas Present says, ‘Know me better human!’

An interesting thing to note would be that I’ve answered the questions spontaneously, giving myself little time to think and think of a better answer.

What is your idea of perfect happiness?
Books, animals around me, soulful music and the voice of Stephen Fry narrating my best novels

What is your greatest fear?
Of encountering a situation where it’s better to say no but I can’t, because I don’t know how to say no

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself?
Unable to be assertive

What is the trait you most deplore in others?
Not being punctual, manipulative, attention seeking,

Which living person do you most admire?
No one in particular

What is your greatest extravagance?
Buying books worth 20USD, having brunch in a 4 star restaurant

What is your current state of mind?
Peaceful, bliss, unaffected, indifferent

What do you consider the most overrated virtue?
Loyalty

On what occasion do you lie?
When I think that lie is better than truth, when I think that my lie would not be caught, when I think that the person doesn’t deserve the truth

What do you most dislike about your appearance?
Pot belly, hair all over my body,

Which living person do you most despise?
No one in particular, I don’t spend time despising someone

What is the quality you most like in a man?
I don’t differentiate between genders, in humans, the quality I admire is grit

What is the quality you most like in a woman?
Same as above

Which words or phrases do you most overuse?
Literally, as a matter of fact, come on, so what you’re trying to say is,

What or who is the greatest love of your life?
A pen that writes so smoothly that it glides on paper effortlessly

When and where were you happiest?
Marina Beach, Chennai – witnessing a Sunrise

Which talent would you most like to have?
Not being complacent

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?
I’d stop procrastinating

What do you consider your greatest achievement?
My article getting published in The Hindu – the one I wrote for Mother’s Day

If you were to die and come back as a person or a thing, what would it be?
I’d return as a monk

Where would you most like to live?
Rishikesh

What is your most treasured possession?
I don’t have any

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?
Sleeping empty stomach

What is your favourite occupation?
Writing

What is your most marked characteristic?
Empathy

What do you most value in your friends?
I don’t know

Who are your favourite writers?
Ayn Rand, William Dalrymple, Richard Bach, Herman Hesse, Umberto Eco, Harper Lee, Truman Capote, Yann Martel, so many others

Who is your hero of fiction?
Sherlock Holmes

Which historical figure do you most identify with?
Nikola Tesla, Ken Miles

Who are your heroes in real life?
No one in particular

What are your favourite names?
Victor, V

What is it that you most dislike?
Not keeping me informed about things related to me

What is your greatest regret?
Destroying the lives of women and causing trauma to their families

How would you like to die?
In sleep, or probably while I read a book

What is your motto?
Sonríe sì crees – Smile if you believe
Expectations hurt

Me and my mind

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So yesterday night, just before falling asleep – when you’re swinging between reality and illusion – my mind pondered about what happens after someone dies. As if on cue, my mind assumed that I died and decided to show what may happen after I die.

I see myself being ushered in to a room which is fluffy, full of bean bags, is pristine, white and soft. I see two guys sitting at one side of the room and are watching something on the television. They notice me and greet me. They hug me, one by one. I see them wearing track pants and simple tees.

One of them has long hair, and has a hammer and nails near his spot. The other one has a big bowl of butter and cream. I’m perplexed, but go with the flow. They ask me my interests and I reply in kind. I like movies, books, music, and art. I forgot to ask them their interests, because I never liked imposing my interests on anyone else. As if reading my mind, they say that even they like to watch movies and read books and such.

We jam instantly, and watch the movies and series that I wanted to watch, that I didn’t want to watch. I listened to songs with them. We hummed the lyrics together, and felt the Goosebumps around the same time. I saw their face lit up when any art work touched their heart, and I knew it because art strikes me such. We spend a long time talking about what my opinions are, what runs into my mind, and they listen. They argue, they agree, they acquiesce, they support, they reject, they rejoice.

I forgot about my hunger and thirst. I was talking and talking and talking. It felt like there would be no end.

Then I grew tired. I tell them that I am tired. They understand, and let me be. I ask them, why is it only you two sitting here? Don’t you have any she friends? They giggle. ‘of course we have loads of friends, of all genders. They’re hanging out elsewhere. Not all of us has the same taste you see’, they make a passing remark.

I choose a cozy beanbag to lie down on. I curl myself, bring my knees near my chest, and rest my head on my left hand. I drift off to sleep. I slowly feel myself growing younger and younger and younger, until I’m an unborn in a womb.

I tend to forget about the two folks with who I discussed so much.

And then I see myself as a two year old, knocking on their apartment door again. One of them opens the door and exclaims, ‘you just went outside to play, you came back so soon?’

‘I missed your company’, I meekly replied in a voice that’s not mine but of an infant’s.

I heard them giggle and I in turn snorted while laughing. And I slept.