To The Pink Shirt Guy

The backstory to An Ode to my resurrection.

You know, when a person is heartbroken to their core by something, someone, or some situation, the pit they fall into is just bottomless, where there ain’t any ray of hope and healing is just a distant bluff. Like a bad odor, you are all over the place, and of course unwanted.

You just can’t help yourself, let alone imagining to be happy and normal again. What’s normal anyway? You know something is wrong, and what is wrong too, but how to fix it, is just, Unthinkable.

So then what do you do? Adjusting yourself to the pain, suffering, and sadness, is a reflex action now.

But as they say, you never know what can happen, and sometimes a simple someone, unaware of your situation, you descried for some fraction of time, from a distance can extend a hand, and pull you out from this bottomless pit, once and forever.

‘To the pink shirt guy’ is one such song I wrote . PS:- It ain’t out yet.

But here the pink shirt guy is not some random guy you see at the restaurant and say to yourself DAMN, or any other pink shirt guy, you never notice in the first place.

Here it’s more of a feeling, a feeling where you once felt anything and everything under the sky, a sense of belonging, like a dandelion puff wandering around, lived by it, owned it, discarded it like some old cardigan because all it brought you was pain.

The Pink shirt guy I once saw at the restaurant, was a ball of radiance, like a pink supermoon, bright enough to blind me, yet had the snare of being unnoticed as if it were your first heartbreak, carrying the charisma to be the highlight of the day or the year.

Those eyes behind the lens were intriguing, maybe sleeping 2 hours last night made me feel like this? We caught each other staring three or four times, or maybe more, I was contemplating my whole existence and the decisions I can never call mine, while he was there marvelously chatting with his friends.

I drove back taking the longest way home, focussing on the traffic, with that unnecessary layer of Cauterize shirt, reminiscing how all this time I was in my head and have deliberately pushed away this feeling by, one two or many other people, I am just saying.

As, I stumble upon the stairs, after hoaxing my landlord that I know where I am going in my life and how the winters will come early this year when in reality I want to either cut my head open and scoop out all the thoughts or vent it out by moving my fingers, this sudden feeling ran over me, how I will never be able to meet the Pink shirt guy again from the restaurant!

But something at the restaurant taught me one thing even if some people leave, life goes on, and you don’t need any valid reason in a form of a silhouette to be happy again.

Laying on my bed, thinking to myself, all I am doing for the past few months is lingering in the past, the room still smelling like my everlasting sadness since high school, mixed with naphthalene and old newspapers, I made a decision, this is enough, one which I can proudly say of my own, to be brave is to be vulnerable and ‘YOU’ again.

I drew in the curtains, letting that last September’s beautiful sun pierce my room. Picking up the pen after 8 long months of exile, and very much aware of the fact that I never had the guts to do and speak what I love, but if I ever put this out for you to read, just know everyone, I moved on in my life, maybe sitting in the new sun, sipping wine, in a nice dress, laughing, being my own ‘The pink shirt guy from the restaurant’.

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