27.07.2002 | 11:49 a.m.
they say red is an attractive colour

I'm wearing a red tee shirt today. It has a round neck and falls just above the waist band of my jeans. It makes me look 16 or 17, and even though I'm only 18,it makes all the difference. After a year of being neatly tucked away in a corner of my cupboard, this piece of clothing finally touches my body today. I never threw it away because I wanted it to wear it again someday, to banish any semblance of superstition. But more than superstition, it is merely association that stopped me from wearing it. I am pleasantly surprised. This doesn't smell of semen; it smells of detergent. I don't look hideous in it. I look pretty...normal. I'm looking at myself in the mirror and waves of nausea choke me as I relive that day. Every word he said is being whispered in my ear; every finger of his that touched me is lightly running over me again. And I am tempted to change out of this tee shirt because it makes all of this so much more tangible.

But I won't. I will overcome this just like everything else. Face your worst fears and that's the only way you'll stop fearing them. It's easy to intellectualise events of your life; it's even easier to find religious implications for them. But no matter what you believe, the hurt is still there, waving little daggers around, and always triumphing. Healing the wounds and then dodging the daggers is what I should do, what I want to do. Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all...

Somebody tell me I can survive this day...

(Will the person from Bombay who read 15 entries at 3:42 a.m today please sign the guestbook or e-mail me or something? Please. It's freaking me out.)

deja vu? | jamais vu?