“Semi-conductors!” you said. “That’s our problem. We are like semi conductors!”
I looked up from my Ayn Rand. I was on page 3 for over an hour and had not yet understood one thing she had written. And now you were rambling about semiconductors. I put the book face down on the table, with an expression that said, “Fine, I’m listening to you. What new cock and bull story do you have now for our failing relationship?”
We had decided to postpone breaking up for a week, so that we could figure out what could be done to not break up. Your idea. You always had crazy ideas. So here we were, in the coffee room of the mess. I was still very fond of you. But I still did not see this working out. This was mostly because I did not know how to make you the center of my world and you did not know how to make me the center of yours. It did not change the fact that we wanted each other around, though.
“You know, a conductor is just that – something that conducts electric current. Romantic couples are conductors. They conduct love without resistance. Us, we are semiconductors. We have been doped with elements that cause us to not love helplessly. The amount of dope can be monitored so that it causes little resistance, or so that it resists gooey, romantic current flow completely. We just have to curb our urge to overdose on our respective dopes.”
I was confused now. Were you talking about physics or weed? I looked blankly at you.
“You remember semi-conductors, right? Chapter 9- 11th Standard Physics”
I loved how you had so much of useless information. And that you could use it in such unlikely contexts.
“Anyway”, you continued, “Your dope is your irrepressible need to be on the move and not talk much. And my dope is my irrepressible need to go out party and hang out with my guys. If we reduce the influence of these dopes, we can successfully conduct romantic currents.”
I couldn’t believe I had sat through that particular monologue.
“Romantic currents?” I asked, as eyebrows rose.
“Romantic currents!” You agreed, grinning like you had just made everything right.
I shook my head, smiling. I loved how enthusiastic you were about this entire exercise. I knew we were making memories that would stay with us for a long time to come. I loved that grin of yours. I knew I’d miss it, if I let you go.
“What if we are addicted to our dopes?” I asked quietly.
You looked up from your make believe golf pitch where you were practicing how to putt with your invisible golf club.
“Then, we are screwed.” You said.
4 simple words had summed up our entire situation.
That night I lay in bed thinking about your absurd semi-conductor theory. If your theory was correct, you and I would never love anyone completely. It was a sad thought. Who would’ve thought a physics lesson could be so depressing.
No ring tones blared that night, on either phone. No sms was transmitted wishing sweet dreams. I dreamt of science examinations, while you were mysteriously missing from the most happening party of the year.
Mostly, we both were put off 11th Standard Physics for life.