Musical Excitement, Etc.
Without any intention to show-off, but with a definite intention to share my future joy is why I write this post The next four months have Michael Buble, matchbox twenty and Bon Jovi lined up on my calendar - Buble on my birthday at the UT campus, matchbox twenty a day after, that is on the 28th of February at Houston, and Bon Jovi at Dallas in April. Excited? Bloody excited.
Concerts, to me, are still quite simply what I said a year and a half back on this blog:
"I would again like to highlight the sheer joy and memories a 1 hour 50 minute concert can give, so if any of you get any chance of seeing Robbie, or any other good performer for that matter, grab it with your hands, your feet, your stomach and everything else that is possible - because it is rare."
-Sunday, April 23rd, 2006.
Yes, I thoroughly enjoy concerts and love getting lost in the music. Obviously, I am the most excited about matchbox twenty. They have been my favorite band for quite a few years now, and however "cliched" or "gay" this sounds, watching them will fulfill one of my many dreams. Bon Jovi and Buble are supposedly great performers - I love their music too, so there isn't going to be any boredom issues there either.
In other news, my laptop's motherboard has quite conveniently, without any reason, crashed, which has ultimately resulted in the tragic but temporary death of my laptop. To add to this disgrace, HP is being a united idiot with regards to my warranty. I will rant and ridicule about this issue soon. Where as emotionally, I am so annoyed with how much my laptop's crash is annoying me. Lord, we have'st become'st so'st dependent'h on'th our'st laptops'sts.
Thanksgiving at Tarryn's was a great escape - relaxing, fascinating and fun! A bunch of finals and paper submissions are coming up, which I am looking forward to only to get them out of my way. Winter plans are done and involve everything but being home. Ali just blowed the bezeezles out of me, oh how I miss him!
P.S. I am writing this post only after making sure that I have the tickets to all three concerts in my hands. Muhahahaha! :)
The Fall
It was on a chilly Sunday morning. Thanks to the ICA, I hadn’t slept much in the last 24 hours. A ton of ICA work had kept me up all night. I was at a friend’s place, working, while the rest of the gang chirped away about the most random of things, throwing in bits of laughter here and there. By 6 in the morning, I was done, and decided to finally head back home. Tarryn came along and I hoped to walk her back to her car, and then sleep away the exhaustion in my cozy dorm bed. But things did not quite unfold the way I planned them to.
A heavy breeze made the dark, early morning chillier. Tarryn & I were walking arm-in-arm singing and talking about the most random things, as we inched closer to her car. All of a sudden, the calm of the cold Sunday morning met with a loud yelp. Our heads immediately turned towards this sound and we saw this body falling from about four floors above the ground. It hit the road with a crunch, a crunching of bones, and then the body lay their motionless. No screaming, no twitching, absolutely still, dead.
Initially, I didn’t realize what had just happened. The shirtless body that fell seemed as unreal as a doll. The sheer magnitude of what we had just witnessed seeped in only slowly - this ‘body’ was of a university student who had just fallen four floors to his death. With his back facing us, we couldn’t see the extent of the frontal damage done, and this mysticism somewhat made it worse. Was he alive? Was he breathing? Had he passed out? My heart started to race like it had never before. I bet Tarryn’s did too, and we both started freaking out, so overwhelmed by what we had just witnessed. There wasn’t a soul around us and we needed to do something about this. I frantically asked Tarryn for the emergency number. “911.” I dialed it instantly. About 3 minutes had passed since the fall when I dialed 911. The emergency officer answered instantly, and I started ranting out details of what had happened, where it had happened and to my self-amusement, why it had happened. She told me to slow down, and repeat the details a few more times. I really can’t recall how freaked I sounded on the phone because I was in flight-and-fight mode. The adrenaline was pumping with fear and shock. I was fairly efficient in giving the emergency officer all the details. She seemed as panicked as me for there was no other reason for her to call me ‘madam, sorry, sir’.
The emergency officer then asked me to approach the body and see if there was any sign of life - that’s when I saw his face. His mouth was oozing with blood, and there obviously didn’t seem to be any sign of life in him. I was glad that the sun was not out, because that would have resulted in a gorier picture. I moved away, fearful, but slightly relieved to hear the sirens that now loomed the air. Meanwhile, three people who seemed to be enjoying a morning run arrived at the scene. They were also, obviously, taken aback by what they saw. They asked Tarryn and me what had happened, comforted us and said that they had no business to be there, and resumed their running. That was slightly weird. A few minutes later the police, the EMS and the ambulance arrived. Tarryn & I moved away from the scene and saw the rest unfold from a distance.
The police marked the crime scene – it was either suicide, homicide or an accident. Obviously, it was most likely to be an accident. A few minutes later a bulky police officer came and asked us a few questions, and took our contact details down. We were the only witnesses, and if this death became any bigger a deal, we would be called in for further questioning. We asked the police-officer if we could be excused for a few minutes to go wash our faces and put on a jumper. He obviously agreed. So Tarryn and I went up to my room, freshened up and came back down at the crime-scene. At about 9, we were still there, on police-orders to stay. We were then called by a Victims-Help officer and briefed on what was happening and what would happen. She said that we could be called in to the police station for further questioning. But what she primarily was trying to tell us that what we witnessed could be a traumatic enough experience to affect our life in university for the next couple of weeks. She said that if we needed any help, we could contact her, or visit one of the university counselors. We liked the support.
The detective finally arrived at the scene. He questioned us quickly and told us to go back home. I think he was trying to avoid us getting exposed to the media, and he did a pretty good job at that, because just as we were leaving, we saw a news-channel van arrive at the scene. I was glad that happened. I was also glad that I hadn’t slept in the past 30 hours, because as soon as I reached my dorm I fell asleep, solely because of the fact that I was thoroughly exhausted. What a day.
The next two weeks were not easy, but not that difficult either. My classes were not affected, and ICA work was keeping me very occupied, but more importantly, distracted. My university did its bit by offering us support if we needed it. That felt good, even though we didn’t actually need any of it. I think the reason why ‘the fall’ didn’t affect me or Tarryn that much was because we didn’t witness it alone. However clichéd it sounds, Tarryn and I had each other. We supported each other, and understood what the other was going through, making everything easier for the both of us. Ultimately, it brought us only closer together. I get scared to even think of what would have happened if I was alone that fateful morning.
Having said all that, the side effects of ‘the fall’ are still there. Late at night, when the air gets chilly, and I am walking back to my dorm, this automated fear starts building within me. Out-of-the-ordinary sounds send chills down my back, bringing back memories that didn’t need to exist. This fear is only temporary though and seems to disappear as quickly as it comes. But what will stay permanently in my head, is this video, this video that continues to loop over and over again. It’s barely three seconds long. But it’s three seconds of something that no one needs to ever witness.
P.S. This is a memory I will not forget how much ever I want myself to forget it. Writing always helps.