(The following has the possibility of being a fiction)
Not getting invited never really bothered me before. I always was the introvert type who would be happy to lock himself up in the name of 'studying' while his cousins came around to visit. And I literally did that when I was around 13 years of age.
But now, things are no longer that simple. I still don't go to a lot of parties and get-togethers, true, but at times I really get annoyed when I know that some of my close friends are hanging out, eating out or had thrown a party and I was not invited. Would I have gone if I were invited? Most probably not, but still in that case it would have been my decision to make, not theirs. This is what really makes me feel uncomfortable.
Maybe I am being a little harsh on them. I have a rather unique image of a 'dhormo-boy' (religion-boy) as one of my friends pointed out via a facebook app designed to give you nicknames. (What kind of people would use that kind of an app, anyway?) And this image of mine makes my friends act in a different manner than usual around me. They are not as comfortable in talking about weird things that most young people say when hanging out. And even when they decide to ignore my image and talk the way thy usually do, I must admit that i feel rather uncomfortable and swear all my way back home not to ever go to a party like that. And chances are that my future swears give out a little tell with my facial expressions while I still am with them.
Take for instance today. I was not invited to Raajib vi's 'Gaye Holud'. And at this very moment all the polapain (youth folk) of my building are having fun after-hours of Gaye Holud on the roof. They are drinking, though I do not dare to guess what kind of drinks; they are singing and dancing – the sound of which I can hear from by bedroom on the top floor. Would I be happy if were there with them? Hell no! I couldn't last one minute in that environment. But still I am really mad. So mad that I have decided not to go to the wedding ceremony where I have been 'cordially' invited along my family (how dare they think I am not one of the polapain but one of the citizen!).
No, I will not go. I will hide Raajib from my facebook wall so I will not I interact with him again. I won't go so far as to block him or delete him from facebook, that would be declaration of war (if he notices of course).
So now I finally know why I do not get invited so often; because somehow I always manage to find a reason not to go at the end. Why would anyone bother to ask me again and again?
I don't know why I am writing this in the middle of the night. This is not a diary entry. This is not the truth I am writing. This is rather a story built around the shadow of truth written in first person. So don't be surprised if the truth reveals no Raajib, no dhormo-boy for you. I just wrote this.
17 February 2011
Not getting invited never really bothered me before. I always was the introvert type who would be happy to lock himself up in the name of 'studying' while his cousins came around to visit. And I literally did that when I was around 13 years of age.
But now, things are no longer that simple. I still don't go to a lot of parties and get-togethers, true, but at times I really get annoyed when I know that some of my close friends are hanging out, eating out or had thrown a party and I was not invited. Would I have gone if I were invited? Most probably not, but still in that case it would have been my decision to make, not theirs. This is what really makes me feel uncomfortable.
Maybe I am being a little harsh on them. I have a rather unique image of a 'dhormo-boy' (religion-boy) as one of my friends pointed out via a facebook app designed to give you nicknames. (What kind of people would use that kind of an app, anyway?) And this image of mine makes my friends act in a different manner than usual around me. They are not as comfortable in talking about weird things that most young people say when hanging out. And even when they decide to ignore my image and talk the way thy usually do, I must admit that i feel rather uncomfortable and swear all my way back home not to ever go to a party like that. And chances are that my future swears give out a little tell with my facial expressions while I still am with them.
Take for instance today. I was not invited to Raajib vi's 'Gaye Holud'. And at this very moment all the polapain (youth folk) of my building are having fun after-hours of Gaye Holud on the roof. They are drinking, though I do not dare to guess what kind of drinks; they are singing and dancing – the sound of which I can hear from by bedroom on the top floor. Would I be happy if were there with them? Hell no! I couldn't last one minute in that environment. But still I am really mad. So mad that I have decided not to go to the wedding ceremony where I have been 'cordially' invited along my family (how dare they think I am not one of the polapain but one of the citizen!).
No, I will not go. I will hide Raajib from my facebook wall so I will not I interact with him again. I won't go so far as to block him or delete him from facebook, that would be declaration of war (if he notices of course).
So now I finally know why I do not get invited so often; because somehow I always manage to find a reason not to go at the end. Why would anyone bother to ask me again and again?
I don't know why I am writing this in the middle of the night. This is not a diary entry. This is not the truth I am writing. This is rather a story built around the shadow of truth written in first person. So don't be surprised if the truth reveals no Raajib, no dhormo-boy for you. I just wrote this.
17 February 2011