Wednesday, January 25, 2012


This is a long overdue post, actually composed last September when I was in my previous job (by the way, the colleagues mentioned are not the ones so dear to me, hailing either from the first or second floor staffrooms. They are excepted with complete dignity from my emotional hangover :-)

DISCLAIMER : And no, I do not intend to give offence to that huge chunk of humanity which is incredulous of the phenomena that are vampires or the alien world of Meyer's 'Twilight'. Live and let live...that's all I have to say.

"Sometimes, I used to wonder whether love exists. Not the kind of love that goes through ups and downs, flux and floods, but the love that makes life seem like a long dream that should never end. Could I be Bella ?

For I have known Edward every night in my dreams. I know that he has a different name but it is Edward, all the same. That fear of   giving in to his darker side but caring about me too much to ever risk losing that which he loved, a life that has its trials, limitations and angst but which is gloriously humble in a way. Where time gives meaning to words and deeds and death is rest and relief from the scorching summer of life.

How is it that I almost feel like I was Bella myself ? That eerily similar longing for the sun ; that loathing of dancing and gym and all those things that make one stand out in a crowd ; that determination to stand by any decision once made ; the impatience with admiring stares and awe-inspired eulogising unless if it was from someone who seemed at least your match, if not superior; the almost comical physical fragility but steely mental incision and strength ...who was this ? My alter ego ?

And what about Edward ? There's so much to say but hardly anything that would actually matter. I only keep dreaming about my own Edward. Vampire or not.

I must have reached the mental twilight of my life when I began to read 'Twilight'. I had watched the film alone at home one evening and I cannot remember having ever longed for the sequel of any film to be broadcasted on TV so desperately. It was worse (or better) with the book. Reading Chapter 13, I had tears in my eyes in the the middle of a staffroom full of teachers mostly talking about utterly inconsequential things all the time. It was glorious - that feeling of being transported entirely to a world of my own, a secret that I hugged to my heart and wouldn't want to share - with any second person in this universe. Like my own version of Edward. Someone whom all could read about and possess in their own way. And yet, none need share him. He belonged to all of us  and yet to none.

And yes, I can be extremely arrogant in my own way. Just like Bella. Nothing seemingly special about her but behaving as if she was superior to everyone else around her. Or simply, oblivious to human society in general. And then swept off her feet and out of her mind by a century-old vampire with the mind of an angel and the temper of a devil.

Drifting in and out of classes full of screaming, sullen students, indifferent or overtly jubilant or incredibly trivial colleagues, I am the outsider who doesn't care about anything at all.

Except you.

I have never cared so much before, Edward."

1 comment:

Haddock said...

That is the beauty of reading a book " that feeling of being transported entirely to a world of our own"


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