He is certainly no Gaurav Kumar, nor is he like any other 100 and million.
He stands out when deep in the middle. He blends in even when on the outside. He speaks the language yet implies cryptic truths. He may assume the role of a trickster but is secretly petrified of hurting.
Underneath all the layers of assumed confidence, the winning attitude, air of deep analysis and lot more is the faint chirpy yellow of hope- with a need for acceptance and craving of self knowledge and understanding. This man is a baffling mixture of unnerving traits skillfully cutting through bullshit while clowning around .
Now, to a reclusive, socially awkward and intellectually spaced out person like me, knowing a character like such is disastrous. The already comfortable special abilities of awkwardness and phobias-a-million dig deeper into my heavy soul. For I would be in a perpetual state of ‘What does that mean?’ Is that judgement I am sensing?’ Am I supposed to laugh now?’ Was that a humorous statement or was it sarcasm?’ This state never meets any resolution, respite or revelation of any sort. It just stays put, propelling me to escape the said situation effectively before it re appears in my mentally torrid life.
There are a zillion posts and blogs, psychology articles and analysis from social scientists about how a woman has to deal with in laws, different culture, practices and expectations after her imminent marriage or death of her identity. What no one guides you on how to deal with, is that extremely important person in your spouse’s life. That best friend who knows it all, that relationship that’s thicker than blood and sweat or whatever men swear by. The baffling question that arises screaming is how is one supposed to deal with this member from the other side of my long forgotten identity.
Fortunately in the last decade I have averted crisis successfully many a times barring a handful of them. Now this important person has to make an appearance now and again. Considering how high up the ladder he figures in my partners life I pat myself on my back at my success rate. Having said that I also state quite strongly that of all the people I am forced to meet, Mr. Not-Kumar is an amazing person, I am happy to know.
Over the years while retaining my likes and comfort I have grown a hide not-so-thick, not -so-bouncy yet, a protective shield. I have learnt to deal with grouchy uncles and aunts in laws, the clawed cousin in laws and various such species. They are easy, if you follow the many examples floating around, on how to ignore, deflect or simply not care about their opinions. For up the priority ladder my dear partner in crime couldn’t care a hoot about these. So if these creatures bitch-slam you, or judge you to hades and back, the couple can shrug it off and move on. Now my fear is the near eventuality that the best friend have the same, similar or almost close -opinions like the rest. To the friend you must be cool, intelligent, modern, supportive guy like gal. The kind of a person you constantly have to be is someone who can never afford to be in the friends bad book, in any way. The line is thin that one treads on. For one bad remark, one hopeless act can fling your relationship into the deathly despair as prejudged by the legal carnivores. No! No ! it is pertinent that you be yourself and hope to god that it is highly approved.
It is this state I constantly find myself in. Recently, after reading by earlier blogs, this ultimate member of my husband’s clan challenged me to write about him. Insisting that I write about him, under a false,too-common name, since he is a normal sort of a person (Yeah, Right!). Internally I had palpitations, cold feet, and felt breaths in spurts, gulping for air for I felt I was in purgatory. After shaking his head a zillion times, laughing and politicly saying that my post was beyond comprehension to his simple mind, having said it was cryptic and profound yet incomprehensible thanks to all the jargon I spewed, I got into a state of my usual confusion. I tried my internal dialogues to decode the meaning behind it, ‘ was it that bad?’ ‘ was it juvenile?’ ‘ should I give up my need to share my tangled thoughts?’ so on and so forth. Anyway, I pull up my big girl panties and decide to bite the bullet. You shall have this post and I shall call it ‘Interesting characters I know!’
This Mr. Not-Gaurav is an amazing father; fun, protective and encouraging. He is a great husband; supportive, inspiring and caring. I met him before I met my husband through another friend, and my first impression of him was- Yeah nice guy, totally in love with his girlfriend (who is his wife now). I heard him go on and on about something he thought was funny and I thought – Boy this man loves to boast and loves his own voice. At that time I was going through my aura phase and I felt he has excessive yellow chakra spinning him into a tizzy; had this crazy need to make it bigger, larger but didn’t think things through. I eventually met him the second time months later with my bf who is now my husband. This time around I saw loyalty, veiled carefully, God forbid anyone sees his good points. The intelligent mind well disguised with cliches he expertly uses to mask the fact that he can see through you yet shall not reveal the truth, he craftily makes everyone comfortable whoever they are, wherever they come from so as not to intimidate them. Needless to say, this being just cannot be surmised by a few words.
I have simple .3 second analysis on people I meet, they fall in categories which make my social meetings easy. I fake interest, I zone out, I pity some and I admire some, but in the last decade I haven’t yet figured how to cope with a being who is an admirable friend, closer than family member and a 4 am buddy. A being who is intelligent, an eternal optimist, and a someone who sees the truth.
My apologies Mr. Not Gaurav Kumar, I do not know you enough to write about you. I fear for my life and my mind, lest I annoy you.