Ans.

A lot of times, these days I get these Qs hurled at me “ wot have u been upto?” “ u have changed man!” “ neva saw u” “ what r ur plans?” ( in dat order)…hmmm…generally i handle them how dravid would handle a bouncer…but now dat I m back in the nets, I think , I'll let Dostoevsky retort..

I have been eking out my days in my corner with a bitter feeling that I cud not become anything: neither bad nor good, neither a scoundrel nor a hero.
At the moments when I was capable of all the refinements of “ lofty and the beautiful” , as they say, yes , at those moments I…no , not felt but indulged in such unseemly acts as…..well, in a word, such acts as are, perhaps ,committed by everyone, but which in my case occurred, as if on purpose, just when I was most keenly aware that they should never occur at all.
The more I became aware of this , the deeper I sank into my slime, and the more likely I was to get mired down in it altogether. But the main point is that all this seemed to take place within me not by chance , but as though it had to be so. As though this were my most normal condition. I almost came to believe that this indeed was my normal condition.
I would gnaw and gnaw at myself in silence, tearing and nagging at myself until the bitterness would finally begin to turn into a kind of shameful, damnable sweetness and , in the end- into a definite , positive pleasure.
This pleasure comes from the awareness of your own degradation; from the knowledge that you have gone to the utmost limit, that is despicable . That I no longer have a way out , that I will never become a different man. Even if there were still time and faith enough to change myself , I do not wish to change, and, if u wished, u wud do nothing about it anyway, because, infact ,there is perhaps nothing to change to. I’ve sometimes felt embarrassed by it but I wouldn’t have been able to take revenge on anyone, since, I would surely never have brought myself to do anything even if I could .why not? Well…