Being a human, my memory is constrained. So I don't remember very old things. But still, as per my analysis, I haven't had this particular state of mind, for a lot many times in life.
I'd call the state, switching of worlds. Probably, I have written about this somewhere else as well. But I want to write more. It's a blissful state. It gives you reason to live.
One was, when I was reading Fountainhead. This was not the first one. The first one, will come in the end. So Fountainhead. When I was reading it, I first felt this switching of world. I'd probably read all night, hardly feel like sleeping...in fact force myself to sleep...to maintain my sanity. When, next day morning, I'd be entering through the glass doors of building 30, it would be like uprooting a tree. Oh when will I return to Howard Roark, when I will again become Dominique. You know, I can actually never become Dominique. I cannot hurt myself to hurt you. I wish I could do that...but I love you like she loved him, but let us not try to relate the story of you and me, with him and her. He discovered her, possessed her...you never dared to do that...or perhaps never cared. But yes, I am like them, as a whole...when is a man and woman complete without each other? So, incomplete, as I am, I am like them. Proud of myself, proud that I do not compromise, proud that I can say anything in the face of anybody, no matter who, if I feel it right, I am even proud of my absolute hatred of lesser beings, people who think they can prove their worth through words alone. I can live in my own world, redefine, re explore and re discover it, I can create and destroy my world...it's mine. I cannot share my world with anyone else just because it's a social norm and human beings are social animals. I loved every bit of that experience of reading Fountainhead. Evening, when I'd finally return home, and pick up the book, it'd be like rejoining my soul.
The second one was while reading Harry Potter series. I was in intense mental agony then. I was trying to compromise. And I had miserably failed. Harry Potter happened all through 2009 beginning, when finally I consented to myself to follow the way of the world. I decided to get married and free everyone from their sense of guilt. And, what followed was immense torment. It seemed as if something was holding me back. I thought this is going to be the end of my life. I would try to defy Anand in every possible way. Go to movies without telling him, go for dinner and lunch parties, conceal everything from him, try to taste all my freedom for the last few days. And then the things turned bad, the discussions and reconciliations were no more fruitful, the engagement was broken. And I felt it IS the end of my life, the last chance I had of living normally. This was the time when Harry Potter came in. A wizard full of woes. Life is never simple for him, despite his various talents and fame. It was the same time when the escheatment project began. That was a new thing for me as well, some new kind of work, so I used to be engrossed all day in it. And in the evening, I still remember, I'd almost run home, all the way from madiwala to my place, almost 20 min walk. And then (this is during the first couple of months - when I didn't have the books, I used to read e books), it'd be like, glued to the laptop. I'd eat while reading, and hate to fall asleep at night. Harry's world became my own world. Amidst all the turmoil that was going on then, the usual yes no yes no game, I wanted to forget my world. Harry welcomed me in. Permitted me to get lost, in the magic. Real magic I should say. Where wizards also suffer, and are torn apart. I loved those days. It took probably 3 months for me to complete the series, and I loved that entire duration. Switching back and forth, Escheatment and Harry Potter.
3rd part was actually the most traumatizing. All this while, Anand had been like a shadow in my life. After 22nd Nov, everything changed. I was alone in a way, I have never been earlier. It was a suffering I couldn't share. I felt scared. I felt stifled. I couldn't tell anybody. For 3 months nobody knew. After Anand's marriage in Feb, I told my mom. Then I told Smitha. All these days, Anitha was the only person who knew. But Anitha was very busy at that time. She had to plan whether to quit the job, when to fly to US, what to do there. There was no one with whom I could sit and cry. Anitha didn't want me to suffer. She'd take me for shopping and urge me to be normal. I still remember an incident. I had gone for shopping to megamart. I left my phone in the trial room. The last dialed number was Deepti's. The shop owner had called her. She, not knowing what to do, had called back Anand. When I got back my phone, and called her, she asked why Anand didn't reply properly. I couldn't tell her even then. I carried this burden on my heart for such a long time, couldn't tell anyone, that he has finally abandoned me. I felt so guilty, as if I have violated the basic norms a girl should follow, hence not even one man could tolerate me. And it was in this time, that I discovered Edward Cullen. I really really thank Stephanie Meyer for being such a good writer. For creating such an intense character. This person, who lived alone for a century, because he didn't find the right girl, won me over for his dedication. He, an imaginary man, made me forget all the wrong that men have done to me. Edward Cullen got me going, in a time when I'd have probably died, I was so unsure of myself.
Final bliss is what I am having now. It all started with Gaaner Opare. Mom and dad used to speak about Rabindra Sardhosatobarsho, but I was least bothered. Mom and dad know almost all Tagore's songs by heart, but they never took the time out, to introduce me to this world. Tagore was a half known entity to me. By magic only perhaps, I started watching Gaaner Opare in youtube. And then gradually I got into this frenzy. I'd wait all day for the moments to pass, and just rush to home and tune in to you tube. Each new song I heard opened a new world to me. I started listening to the same song in the voice of different people, appreciate each rendition, and get lost. A time came, and it is still going on, when I'd sleep humming one song, and wake up in the morning with the same tune. All day, one or the other song will keep coming back to my mind. I started humming in office also. Authentic Tagore's song in Praha. The sitar tune of "Aji jharo jharo mukhor badal dine" would play in the back of my mind, when I'd be particularly ecstatic in my discovery of the various beauties of Praha, I'd sing to myself, "Jaton kore apnake je...rekhe chhilem dhuye meje...anonde se dhulay lutechhe". It would be a mistake to say it's only Tagore's song, once in a while Suman would come back to me..."athoba swan lake...mem ballerina...tomaar tulona konodin janbe na"...but it's mostly Tagore. No one presented him in such a way before, no one told me that this stuff, that someone wrote a century back, can bring so much light in my life. Urge me to live. To be happy. Not to give up. To trust myself. Tell me, I haven't done anything wrong. I needn't suffer. I have loved. And love is bliss. I thank Rituparno so so much, I once again am appalled at the kind of talent that only South Point can produce. When I needed it most, I got the direction from a fellow pointer.
Now to end up. You know this, don't you? I remember how you used to laugh...and say that I am following my bliss for a long time now. You were bliss. You changed my world. You loved me in a way nobody ever did. I wrote this once out of terrible terrible exasperation.
"I sincerely wish life would have been a film and it would have ended in 3 hours…I also wish love didn’t have so many categorizations…it makes life more difficult, hatred I can understand, indifference I can understand…but extreme love, but not “that kind” of love….I don’t understand…and why should people having enough maturity not understand other people’s agony and at least care to leave them alone…taking for granted that they really cannot help…why this care…why this concern…doesn’t it hurt even more?
Finally to summarize, why don’t people know their minds???
And why was I not born a vegetable…at least devoid of a mind…."
I don't care these days about you. You have changed. You have finally learned to leave me alone. Though that hurts like hell, the very fact that you are finally able to do this, tells me that you don't care any more. You are still bliss, will always be. Otherwise, during the cruise on Vlatva yesterday, why was it that all I remembered was, that particular day on the boat, and your tarzan pose for me :) I often say this to myself, you are a part of me, assimilated in me, you can't go away. But at the same time, the truth as on today, is that you don't care. I have accepted that, as I have accepted this solitude. I keep discovering newer bliss, become childish and think of falling in love once again (after all its love that keeps you young). But things never work out. Because I belong to you, probably. And I am still that snob, I used to be. But, you will be happy to hear, that all said and done, life's good. The future might be difficult, but as on today I am blissfully unaware of anything on earth than can cause pain. I love my world of literature and music, and care a fig for company of lesser human beings. I am in love with myself, after a long long time.
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