Disposition

In the rumbling of all the crowd gathered in the house I could hardly listen to new year's eve concerts. New year eve and birthday of the eldest person in our family, my grandmother, to be on the same day. Ahh! What else one could ask for. Heaven. Absolutely heaven. But. . . did I forget to mention,"not for me". The only thing I would wish on the new year is a little time of my own, and if possible, a room of my one. But when your maternal and paternal- aunts, uncles, cousins all ACCUMULATE together on that one very day, I shouldn't have even thought of that solitude on the first hand. My other, for a long time is carrying the CD of Sarah Vaughan's 1986 concert, which would be impossible to listen, At ALL. I did give a thought to it, that I should play the record for everyone, and mind, I did. Though, it seems grandma's story about her young times far more interesting than Sarah Vaughan's four octave sonorous adventure. Hmm. I think I missed the sunday sermon when Father, the local eloquent pastor, was elaborating the verse,"neither cast, ye your pearls before swine, lest they trample them. under their feet, and turn again and rend you."

In the end, it just puts you off, that everyone is jolly in their circle and you, only to be on that far end, where they all think you are a special kind. That is the best way to make anyone feel miserable, by adding in the," he is just so bright and intelligent." Loneliness is shaded with all the best colours of interpretation. Well. As mentioned before, the entire household was dipped deep in to the preparations for grandma's birthday, new year was inferior.

"Ahhh. Adi, where were you?" My overly enthusiastic aunt, one on my father's side, bellowed from the kitchen, slightly peeping from behind the door. It was too late to escape her eyes because it took me long time to find her pupils in that thickly applied eyeliner.

"Nothing aunt Manda. Nothing at all." For unknown reason I said the 'nothing at all' in a sort of British accent. That was meant to repel her attention away from me. Alas ! It didn't. But before I turn around, a very important thought struck my mind. I changed my expression, voluntarily, from reflective to absorbing, and asked aunt if she had anything specific to say.

"Oh yes. Will you bring the onion basket from the storeroom. It's already very late for the breakfast. Your father and all your uncle's must be waiting long now." You too, aunt Manda. I wished too say that. But decided not to, and went upstairs to fetch the stuff.

As I climbed the stairs I couldn't help but run my sight over those frames of my family's ancestors. Yep. My family's, not mine. The frames of ancestors were hung in my humble abode, my little room that was next to the storeroom, that specific location too upon my request. As I walked by, my eyes wondered over to those beautiful walnut streaked walls. From upon them, my ancestors humbly looked down on me. Anne Bronte, first in the row, lord Byron followed and next to him, Alfred Whitehead, below him, perpendicular, Toni Morrison. Above my bed a wallpaper stamped on the wall with grandeur, that read," who's afraid of Virginia Woolf?" Below it, "Democracy".

While I descended the stairs, no stones in my pockets, I had a unfaithful encounter with my cousin Max. Too lost in his 3DS simulation console, but not enough to pass by me without recognising me. He looked up, freshly returning from the Pokemon world, where he had become the champion last night, bagging most of the Pocket Monsters. He blankly picked an onion, threw it towards another of my cousin, Shruti, then just smiled. Like everytime, that cute, sharp teeth peeped out from behind his upper lip, then he almost walked away. Till, I dared to stir him.

" Wow. Whole game in two days. That's cool." I uttered with as much calmness possible but with sharp tints of surprise.

" Right, hah ? But anyways. Didn't wom tell you sobthing." He said while taking over my path, going away. He has cold since last three days. Change of air or water, perhaps. And that abrupt ending, well that's just him.

A little late but I delivered the onions to aunt, who had a lot of things to say to me about punctuality. This time I didn't venture to be more welcoming. I left the kitchen until I couldn't hear her words anymore. I can't stand someone pointing out my faults. Because that is my faculty. I - as much my inert lower would let me, try to change myself enough. So others highlighting them, though with good intentions, wreck my nerves. Still I couldn't feel all right. As I remembered that thing again, I came up with a reason to indulge in the kitchen, and had a short conversation with aunt. She appeared pleased this time, and I, satisfied.

Some two hours passed in the whole breakfast and morning get-together thing. Before everyone would leave their places, uncle Raju brought up subject of decoration for the evening events. With so many people in house that was an absolutely perfect topic discuss. Then like any cliche indian family, we all started to declare our own plans. My voice, though hidden the strong sound waves of other's, so show reached some ears.

"Oh come on Aditya. Floral arrangement? That's most common thing anyone would come up with." Mathilda, my maternal aunt, reacted. Before I could make my case, Pallavi, another cousin, came up with idea of encasing the whole interior with those beautiful little gleaming bulbs. To which I heartily agreed, but not heard. The discussion was quite ferocious, my words though, everytime unheard, but I still enjoyed it. After that heavy, thick conversation, it was decided that Pallavi's suggestion was the best and to be followed. As we all rose up, I noticed Leonard's, who happens to be my hot and happening older brother, eyeing me till I passed out of the hall and his eyeballs on the verge of popping out. Yeah, I know. Why would you even suggest something so stupid, he will say. But it is of no consequence.

Some fifteen minutes after the family brain trust's storming discussion-Pallavi, Rohan and Ploppy, all my cousin's, were out through the front door. I caught up with them. Asked if I could join them. Ploppy reminded me I wasn't good at such tasks, thanks to my low indulgence in any shopping endeavours at all, that being true, I decided to help any other way I could. But I didn't find anything substantially becoming of my capabilities, to do. That fate too was obvious.

I before I could help anyway, it was already evening, and our frail, violently shaking, but as uncle Patrick says "strong for her age" grandmother descended her wheelchair with most efforts from her grandchildren. Looking all around, either with admiration or inability to recognise the faces, and then slowly ascending the beautiful ottoman that was especially her's. A beautiful and happy event it was. Such a sweet gathering. And oh! I was so very tired. I decided to retire to my room now that everyone was talking to each other about matters that were, perhaps, beyond my comprehension. Opening the drawer of my table, I took a small notebook. And then marked some small boxes infront of some sentences and at the end of the page wrote 43%. I saw the clock, it was just seventeen minutes to twelve, I turned the page and started writing under a headline, 'summary' . Before I could pen down the first word, a broad, veiny, big hand siezed the notebook right from my hand. The gold ring on thumb didn't miss my eye, oh! It was my brother.

"It's nothing. Give it back." I struggled to get it back from him, as he effortlessly held it infront of his face without even rating his hands up, yup, that's the difference in our height. Before I say anything further, he came,

"So you have been doing this stupidity. You idiot. You won't change, will you."

"It is important to me, you won't understand. Now give it back."

"There isn't anything minutely, possibly important into this. Why you have to be so like this all the time." And that my nerve. Then I returned I powerfully as I could,

"Do you think, because I am poor, obscure, plain and little, I am soulless and heartless? You think wrong! I .."

"ENOUGH."

"Why you have to be over everything everytime. Why you have paint all your problem in such stupid way and. ."

"Why would you understand? It is not your place to understand. You have it born in within you. I just wished to be less awkward around everyone."

"And who said you were? Why you have to make it your goal to be more sociable? WHY? and why you have to follow behind everyone just satisfy yourself that they gave you enough attention ?"

" I - I just wish to be in everyone's circle." I laid it bare, submitting my will and hold. Soon I was groped by my shoulders, his fingers, metaphorically, digging into my bones.

"Why that way Aditya? Why not widen your circle to let everyone in? Why make your own mind your best friend when you could have everyone for a friend - especially me?"

"It's just wierd to be out. And so ."

" Don't make assumptions about people. Let them know you for you to know them. It is not becoming of you to tail along to them. Be little more considerate for yourself Adu."

I think. It is a way of thinking about oneself, that don't consider. It's wierd that I always thought of him closest to me. Yet I dreamt of being out of everyone's circle. It was not a big emotional moment but a silent awakening, that I accepted as it. And after my beloved advice, I guess I just decided to be more considerate for my own self. Because no one will no my disposition unless I dispose it to them. Irony ! ! !