Something has to be done. Somehow I should come out of my coma. Well, not actually a coma. But it is a coma-like feeling for the mind. I was caught thrice by two different people and asked the same question, “what are you staring at?”. Why do we stare a lot when we’re upset? Sick upset. Upset as hell. As hell as can be. I’m almost sure I didn’t notice the water overflowing or the dosas getting burned. “What are you staring at?”
What was I staring at? Had I expected to see him? Had I expected to hear his unforgivably charming voice? Had I expected to accidentally fall out of the rabbit hole and wake up happy and determined? What had I expected?
Well … Staring does work. It stops the tears. It is science. Stare hard and stop the tears. Only if mind cooperated. And the heart and the brain.