Is it only for me, that life seems to be kicking me out of itself all the time? I always knew I should've played football with those cool guys in school, or why didn't I learn to play the guitar when everybody in college was doing the same. I shouldn't have been so terribly lazy. The optimum utilization of those lazy afternoons when I slept aimlessly thinking I capable of doing absolutely nothing, could have intruded some skill or talent in me. Frankly, I think I am average, no, not average, I think I am low with everything. Low grades, low on looks, low on self-esteem, low on talent. They say every human has been given a skill in some form or the other. They lie. I am stuck here pursuing a degree in Arts because my dad wants me to become a qualified professor. And this is what you have to do to become, a qualified professor. Study Art. My calves seem to be turning feminine and so my voice. And being the only boy amongst 122 girls does not give me a very good vibe. None of the girls in my class sit next to me or even talk to me. Over and above when I gather courage to make way through the crowd with the help of my stick and try to make an attempt to strike a conversation, they make silly excuses and run away from me. They think I don't seem to understand. But I do. This is probably because I am ugly. But my mom always considered me the most handsome boy of Evershine Nagar. Actually, now even she seems disinterested with what I do and how I live. Not that I see my face often enough to consider it ugly, Its just that those kids from the adjoining lane teased saying "Ugly boy is passing by" the last time I took that route. And kids never really lie. I never went to that lane again. Low self-confidence. Probably I would've been more heroic if I had some awards or achievements or trophies to my credit. The best volleyball player of St. John’s School, or the best speaker, a wonderful singer, or some trophy in elocution, 1st runner up of the manhunt contest would also suffice. But I don't think I have anything more than a couple of participation certificates of some competitions in which I took part at St. John’s. I have not even had a girl for long enough to be called a girlfriend. When I was in the hospital after that stupid accident, though I was not really in a condition to see anyone, I thought, still she’d come to take a look at how I was doing. But she never turned up. She must have been going through a tough time because I remember she called saying her parents came to know about us and that she was under house arrest so could not meet me or talk to me. Recently I heard she got engaged to our old college football champ. I remember I had tried playing football (I liked volleyball more but never mind) to impress her. But the players in my team thought I was extremely clumsy and would not pass me the ball because I would anyway lose it in less than three seconds. After the accident when I used to be really bored, I started writing poems and odes. I realized I had an inclination towards writing. But my younger brother shooed me off saying he was the better writer, and I did not have the courage to compete with my own little brother so I quit. My father is strict and keeps ranting about the share market and recession and the miserable economic state of the US of A. But I don't exactly understand the logic behind the logic behind cribbing about something which is not affecting you directly. I advised him the same, to which he said I am good for nothing and asked me to go because I am not capable of earning myself and all that. Never mind. Mum is nice she cooks good food. She cooks good food for us and so she is caring. She does not judge me by my in capabilities I think. She loves me anyway. I know I am below average and I wish I could change that. I want to open my eyes and. . .
See the world and its colors once again.
I can hear mum talking on the phone about somebody who is ready to donate eyes.
I’ll get back to you. . .
touching ..
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