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Between me and my Cousin-aunt E2
Ep2. The vacation gone wrong.
April 2010.
After my board exams, I was happy that once again, I will be home alone with my computer, in the world of my “addiction”.
Yes, by this time I was chronic addict to this daily pleasure. Every day, I excused some time to use the desktop whenever my parents were out. I collected some CD's from one of my friends in tuition class. By the middle of that academic year, I spend some of my pocket money to develop my own personal collection of CD’s. This friend of mine had close association with a local cassette shop owner, who provided B-rated films ,15 rupees aside from memory card cost to fill a 2 gB SD card with .3gp files. My friend was a frequent user of towns computer café, where they helped them convert it into CDs which he sold for an overpriced rate to other deprived fellows. This was his ‘business’. He had associates, and they had a little underworld for trading these stuff behind the covers of tuition classes. Well that’s his story, and I am not going into these little content-bosses of that era.
The content quality was miserable compared to the common ones you get these days in a click for free. Maybe mainstream movies got better ones these days. But, those were far more nostalgic to teenagers who lived through it.
(For every generation, their experiences appears ultimately better, and it’s maybe a universal truth, so no offence to anyone, for me it was 3gp, for my uncles generation it was bit-books, my little cousin was lucky to experience 4k,VR. The coming generations could be lucky to know God knows what.)
I had big plans for my vacation, had a good ammunition developed for sixty days of pleasure before the tenth results were out. I was not scared of results,(TBH, I feared a little…but only in the week when it was rumoured to be announced)
I had worked my asses out the few weeks of study leave, with some late night burnouts, I managed to complete the syllabus, attempt model exams and my midterm marks were also satisfactory. I knew I was above average in academics if not brilliant.
Added to the joy, the desktop OS was upgraded and I planned to play some PC games during this vacation, which would probably be the last in my school life before I leave to Kota, Rajasthan for entrance coaching and class 11th and 12th. In fact, there were vacation crash courses, but I convinced my parents that they were not useful since I had already taken crash course classes from regional institutes. Whether or not due to my excuse, they agreed after the condition that I will leave for my 11th and 12th,and devote my two years of “turning point” to get into some coveted institutes of national importance.
The first two days went as planned, watching videos, splashing some jizz, playing games…but on the third day something out of the plan occurred. My father’s mother fell from the stairs and broke her leg. She lived with Priyanka and Aadhi in my uncles flat, at Kochi. Plans changed.
My father and I had hospital stay for two days accompanying grandma. With doctors recommendation and upon guarantee that Priyanka would look after her, she was shifted to her house. I was asked to stay there, in case some emergency may arise.
All my plans shattered in a moment, and I was there, in my uncles house, probably for the next few weeks of my vacation. This was the first time I was in their house after puberty hit. In fact, I haven’t talked to Priyanka since 2008 before my uncle was posted to Hyderabad. Some of you may find it hard to relate: it was some fifteen years ago , we had no WhatsApp family groups or messengers to keep in touch. All I had was a post-paid BSNL connection, paid by my father. Added to the misery, I had a Nokia 1100,not a camera phone unlike some of my rich classmates, for typing just letter ‘s’ you had to press keypad 6 four times. Hope you get the idea if I typed a message to this ‘sister’ of mine . I could no longer relate to Aadhi as I used to. He was not a baby anymore, he had his bunch of friends his age from nearby flats, and I saw him only when he came to have snacks or to sleep. I felt so out of place and irritated with every advice or remark of my grandma. Suddenly, I felt everything I do was wrong I everyone’s eyes. I badly wanted to get out of this house. I was insanely frustrated whenever my father or mother called to update about health of my grandma. Grandma never used to ‘talk’ to me, even when she was staying with us at our town. She only ‘advised’ or ‘yelled’ . She followed strict routine and forced these habits on me, so I couldn’t get along with her when I was a kid. She became unbearable when I grew up to teenage. (Now, things have changed, certain things she convey is making sense to me as I mould myself into an adult. Like “Joker” who was a mere villain in childhood, but more layered and meaningful as I ponder standing in an adult’s shoe.
And most of all, I grew more and more timid around Priyanka. It didn’t surprise me; what could be the possible side effect of drugging yourself with the best family oriented graphic materials, straight for an year?... I knew I got addicted to it, but by the time, my mind was constructing new ways to spend more time with it rather than curtailing it. Guilty pleasure has such a kick. It was not just that…
I felt the absence of two years taking it’s effect. They say “absence makes hearts grow fonder. I think it doesn’t fit in my case. It was not merely that. It was also the naughty teenager in me who built a wall of distant fantasies between me and her. For the first time in my life, I grew insecure around her. Started seeing her in a different light, thanks to the thousands of taboo content I browsed the previous vacations. I was scared if she could find out, terrified by nightmares where my parents get to know this, frightened if anyone would notice this behaviour.
© loop
April 2010.
After my board exams, I was happy that once again, I will be home alone with my computer, in the world of my “addiction”.
Yes, by this time I was chronic addict to this daily pleasure. Every day, I excused some time to use the desktop whenever my parents were out. I collected some CD's from one of my friends in tuition class. By the middle of that academic year, I spend some of my pocket money to develop my own personal collection of CD’s. This friend of mine had close association with a local cassette shop owner, who provided B-rated films ,15 rupees aside from memory card cost to fill a 2 gB SD card with .3gp files. My friend was a frequent user of towns computer café, where they helped them convert it into CDs which he sold for an overpriced rate to other deprived fellows. This was his ‘business’. He had associates, and they had a little underworld for trading these stuff behind the covers of tuition classes. Well that’s his story, and I am not going into these little content-bosses of that era.
The content quality was miserable compared to the common ones you get these days in a click for free. Maybe mainstream movies got better ones these days. But, those were far more nostalgic to teenagers who lived through it.
(For every generation, their experiences appears ultimately better, and it’s maybe a universal truth, so no offence to anyone, for me it was 3gp, for my uncles generation it was bit-books, my little cousin was lucky to experience 4k,VR. The coming generations could be lucky to know God knows what.)
I had big plans for my vacation, had a good ammunition developed for sixty days of pleasure before the tenth results were out. I was not scared of results,(TBH, I feared a little…but only in the week when it was rumoured to be announced)
I had worked my asses out the few weeks of study leave, with some late night burnouts, I managed to complete the syllabus, attempt model exams and my midterm marks were also satisfactory. I knew I was above average in academics if not brilliant.
Added to the joy, the desktop OS was upgraded and I planned to play some PC games during this vacation, which would probably be the last in my school life before I leave to Kota, Rajasthan for entrance coaching and class 11th and 12th. In fact, there were vacation crash courses, but I convinced my parents that they were not useful since I had already taken crash course classes from regional institutes. Whether or not due to my excuse, they agreed after the condition that I will leave for my 11th and 12th,and devote my two years of “turning point” to get into some coveted institutes of national importance.
The first two days went as planned, watching videos, splashing some jizz, playing games…but on the third day something out of the plan occurred. My father’s mother fell from the stairs and broke her leg. She lived with Priyanka and Aadhi in my uncles flat, at Kochi. Plans changed.
My father and I had hospital stay for two days accompanying grandma. With doctors recommendation and upon guarantee that Priyanka would look after her, she was shifted to her house. I was asked to stay there, in case some emergency may arise.
All my plans shattered in a moment, and I was there, in my uncles house, probably for the next few weeks of my vacation. This was the first time I was in their house after puberty hit. In fact, I haven’t talked to Priyanka since 2008 before my uncle was posted to Hyderabad. Some of you may find it hard to relate: it was some fifteen years ago , we had no WhatsApp family groups or messengers to keep in touch. All I had was a post-paid BSNL connection, paid by my father. Added to the misery, I had a Nokia 1100,not a camera phone unlike some of my rich classmates, for typing just letter ‘s’ you had to press keypad 6 four times. Hope you get the idea if I typed a message to this ‘sister’ of mine . I could no longer relate to Aadhi as I used to. He was not a baby anymore, he had his bunch of friends his age from nearby flats, and I saw him only when he came to have snacks or to sleep. I felt so out of place and irritated with every advice or remark of my grandma. Suddenly, I felt everything I do was wrong I everyone’s eyes. I badly wanted to get out of this house. I was insanely frustrated whenever my father or mother called to update about health of my grandma. Grandma never used to ‘talk’ to me, even when she was staying with us at our town. She only ‘advised’ or ‘yelled’ . She followed strict routine and forced these habits on me, so I couldn’t get along with her when I was a kid. She became unbearable when I grew up to teenage. (Now, things have changed, certain things she convey is making sense to me as I mould myself into an adult. Like “Joker” who was a mere villain in childhood, but more layered and meaningful as I ponder standing in an adult’s shoe.
And most of all, I grew more and more timid around Priyanka. It didn’t surprise me; what could be the possible side effect of drugging yourself with the best family oriented graphic materials, straight for an year?... I knew I got addicted to it, but by the time, my mind was constructing new ways to spend more time with it rather than curtailing it. Guilty pleasure has such a kick. It was not just that…
I felt the absence of two years taking it’s effect. They say “absence makes hearts grow fonder. I think it doesn’t fit in my case. It was not merely that. It was also the naughty teenager in me who built a wall of distant fantasies between me and her. For the first time in my life, I grew insecure around her. Started seeing her in a different light, thanks to the thousands of taboo content I browsed the previous vacations. I was scared if she could find out, terrified by nightmares where my parents get to know this, frightened if anyone would notice this behaviour.
© loop
