Edited by: Shloka Sankar
I didn’t quite understand why I was up so early having breakfast, of all things. Where was my college shit fest of a life?
I’m in love with a fairytale
My toast was burnt. I was too tired to slather butter all over it. The sad little cube slowly slid down the rough surface of the bread.
Even though it hurts
I missed porridge that had some weight to it. The mess porridge was as insubstantial as my essay argument.
‘Cause I don’t care if I lose my mind
I picked up my spoon, resigned. The body was a machine that needed food as fuel. Fuel for an engine that seemed to be going nowhere.
I’m already cursed
Damn it, I had classes to attend.
[Fairytale, Song by Alexander Rybak]
***
Someone was speaking in front of me. I had Instagram open on my phone.
Snapping one, two
My fingers flicked, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. Puppies, cats, food, attractive people, books, puppies, cats, food, attractive people, books… wait, wasn’t there someone speaking? I looked up.
Where are you?
They had just asked a question. I mumbled in response. Their face twisted in a familiar, I-am-disappointed-in-you way. They repeated the question.
You’re still in my heart
I didn’t know the answer. I didn’t know. Something was bashing its head against the iron bars of my ribcage.
Snapping three, four
The longer I took, the wider their eyes grew.
Don’t need you here anymore
I didn’t want to hear those words from them. I didn’t want them to leave.
Get out of my heart
They asked again, “So do you know what you want to be for Halloween?”
‘Cause I might snap
I used introvert tactic number 55, “God, look at this adorable puppy!”
I shoved my phone screen into their face. They were successfully distracted.
[SNAP, Song by Rosa Linn]
***
I think this course was sucking dry every brain cell I had. And it wasn’t even the good kind of sucking.
“And we must try to understand, how sarcastic Beauvoir was while writing this…”
Dirty, dirty boy
Fuck. Not this song.
You know everyone is talking on the scene
“She refutes Freud’s phallic envy theory that he believes all women suffered from as children…”
I hear them whispering ’bout the places that you’ve been
“The desire for castrating their male counterparts…”
And how you don’t know how to keep your business clean
“Women cannot love by choice because they are objects of the phallic mandate…”
Mummy don’t know daddy’s getting hot
“This binary of object-subject plays out quite interestingly in a patriarchal society…”
At the body shop, doing something unholy
“Are you alright Sthitee, you look a bit… “
“I’m fine Professor.”
[Unholy, Song by Sam Smith]
***
I was sitting in the library, staring at my blank doc screen. Ideas, I needed ideas.
Parece que hoy me gustas un poco más, ok
No, not this again. I slumped onto my keyboard.
Hola, comment allez, allez-vous? so nice to meet ya (How are you? So nice to meet ya)
No, I could not sing out loud. This was the library for Godssakes.
You said we should go and get a room, no
Essay, I had an essay due tonight! I needed an argument. Something, anything, words on a google doc!
If you want to turn it on
I ground my palms into my eyes.
Go, get a lightbulb, después hablamos (Go, get a lightbulb, we can talk later)
Maybe I needed a break.
[1,2,3, Song by Sofia Reyes]
***
I didn’t want to start gnawing on my nails. This was hell on earth– why, oh why, did I have to open my mouth?
There are squirrels in my pants!
“As Sthitee so kindly volunteered,…”
That girl’s got some serious squirrels in her pants.
No, Sthitee had been unaware of what was being talked about. She stupidly said yes to avoid embarrassment. Sthitee was an idiot.
There are squirrels in my pants!
“She’ll be handling all the details…”
Tell me whats makin’ you jump like that!
God, I could barely handle my life. Visions of excel sheets swam in front of me.
S-I-M-P, Squirrels in my pants!
“She’ll get in touch with you shortly…”
What I would do is ignore this and then suffer when the deadline is staring right at my face.
[S.I.M.P, Song in Phineas and Ferb]
***
I had to respond to their point.
Daayein lage (It may hit right)
God, no. I was quickly losing my train of thought.
Kabhi baayein lage (It may hit left)
They were nearing the end.
Naino ki bullet (The bullet-like gaze)
Fuck. What was their point? What was mine?
Dil pe dhaayein lage (Makes your heart its bullseye)
“Well?”
The entire class was looking at me. Crap.
[Second Hand Jaawani, Song in Cocktail]
***
I lay redolent on my bed, like an overfed creature. My arms were raised: one held the phone upright, the other scrolling through the reels.
The audio echoed across the bare walls of my room. I kept an eye on the names. I’d like the songs on Spotify later, make a whole-ass playlist.
Reel music was taking over my life. These little clips became earworms that nuzzled into my mind and became part of my life, and my social personality.
I was obsessed. I spent hours on the internet, typing half-remembered phrases to get the song. I hummed off-tune into the net audio search– Google was judging me hardcore.
I was five days away from downloading Smule.
Who cared about the future? I needed the name of that song ASAP.