Being a mock turtle...

Whatever I was expecting, finally happened. Like the weather here suddenly changed...it became cold...similarly...I too returned to my zombie self.

There was no reaction - as I expected it to happen. Yes, my acting was a bit too much, but still even that seemed pretty appropriate. That's the way to be Pupu Ray, keep it up.

I am very sure about one thing. I shall be a happy person when I finally die. Because till the time I die, something or the other will keep hurting me, and never leave me in peace.

I had a long futile discussion with Ani yesterday. If only I could come out of my dream world for once. Live in reality.

I feel like sinking in one of my most favorite songs - Agle janam mohe bitiya na kijo...

Actually if you ask me, it's even more painful, if you get a girl's life but can't live it.

For the first time in my life perhaps, I am scared of presenting myself as a normal intelligent girl in tomorrow's meeting. For today, more than ever, I feel I am completely hollow. I am tired of fighting, tired of proving myself, tired of pursuing my dreams. I am tired of begging. I want to go back. I want to simply retire. For I know, my good days will never come back. I will never be pampered and cared for again. I am tired of living with your shadows and memories. They hurt more than you ever did. You have gone far away from me, you don't even come back when I am otherwise ok. Only in such situations, I remember you. You don't comfort, you don't cry with me. You just beckon me back to those good old days, which were too short lived, and I was too prejudiced to enjoy them enough. 4 years back, it's true that I had broken free of all bonds. But I didn't foresee this nothingness.

Agatha Christie, Harry Potter, Twilight series - MBA - job search - my movies, my ipod, my migration and escheatment projects - what all I didn't do to keep myself going. To think, even yesterday, I was writing official mails till well past midnight. Skipped dinner to finish the work.

Sochta hun is train se safar karna chhod dun.
Buy myself a new car.
A nice new blue car.
You like blue?
I like blue...
Time to go...

Ek sach baat bolun? Aapne bhi kabhi mujhe utna khulke jeene nahi diya...jitna usne diya...

This Sunday, whole day I watched KANK scenes on youtube. Loved so many things in a new way. Way Maya eats her solitary meal, and Dev his. Way she bursts into tears, tries to control...and sobs even more...

I feel so so lonely today...there's no one who can help me in this. Believe me, I tried my very level best. I tried to find ways. I tried not to give up. You went away, Anand went away, people literally played with my emotions, still I waited for something good to happen. I still believe I shouldn't have lived on after what I did in June 2006. Every year I told myself, that next year you'd see...life would be so different, so so beautiful.

Feeling sleepy now...I must thank Karan Johar for having made Kabhi Alvida Na Kehna. There won't be a more beautiful portrayal of life's truth, way I see it.

I like blue...

I think this addiction is growing on me. Every moment I feel like...I must write something in the blog. Actually apart from that there's nothing much to do as well. I being a very well planned person, plan everything in advance. So only pending things for today, is - updating my CV, sewing some clothes, ironing some shirts, preparing some food for tomorrow's lunch and I guess that's it. There is however this planned dinner at a colleague's place, which I am not to keen about. I have not grown to like my solitude, of course, but still, I am very very choosy about the company I keep.

I am fultoo romantic today. I don't know why. May be PP's post in fb triggered it off. 26th August 2007 is a more important date in my life than anybody else's life. I discovered myself on that day. I discovered how passionate I am, how impossible it is to limit me by rules and preaching. I am like wind, I am like sand. No one can hold me back. I shall flow, in my own sweet free will. I can break free of any bond I don't like, even if that means ruining the last remaining green possibilities of my own life. I am independent, and free to pursue my dreams. I want to live like a bird, not like a caged animal.

And so I live. 4 years later. The life might be lonely, but mind you, I haven't given up. I haven't surrendered to fate. And despite my frequent bouts of pensive reflections, I am more or less happier than many. I don't have a worry in life.

And I remember KANK once again. Love, in the way, I see it. Love that doesn't hold you back, just provides you with a lot of courage. Love, with which you can live alone. I don't have any regret in life. I have become fat, but I still love my looks. I didn't go the family way, but I still feel amply loved. I am not exceptional in my career, but I am well appreciated. Threats are there in every field of life, but I feel I am quite ready for combat. And I don't feel submissive to anyone on earth, nobody commands me. In my world, I am the queen I wanted to be.

I don't know from where this surge of positivity is coming. May be from yesterday's untimely bath, which kind of cleaned up my mind and soul. May be from the sunlight seeping in through the window (I woke up in the morning and felt compelled to remove the shades and eradicate the developing gloominess in the room). Somehow I am happy.

Her Sleepiness...

I am not sleepy. I wanna write. I love Saturday nights. Because I am at my craziest self at this time of the week. Actually, I love being cushioned. I have the cushion of a whole Sunday, to undo whatever digression I'd manage to do. At the same time the fatigue of office is long distance away, courtesy Friday night. So I get mad on Saturday nights. Like I am now. You know what? It's 3:41 in the morning. And I just had my bath. A lukewarm, refreshing bath. Before that, I watched Delhi Belly. Was planning to watch it for a long time now (having heard raving reviews), and had downloaded and brought along here... but alas, my previous dabba lappy won't play it. You know what? Still I wouldn't have let it go, had it not stopped detecting the wifi signal. It's a pain, trust me, to connect to the LAN cable. That's why I don't write half as much when I am in India.

Aah, Delhi Belly seemed a fun movie. Long time after, I laughed so much. A good, natural movie.

Ok what else did I do? I cleaned all the utensils, and washed clothes as well (btw I din't do it, the machines did - or are still doing :P). And I made lassi for myself. Was good, but I could have made it a little thicker. Oh, and biggest news, I killed a cockroach. See, I could have managed with the missing wifi or crashing cupboard shelves. But NO. I cannot tolerate cockroaches in this place as well. Understand man, I hate the place I stay in, in India. Mostly because of cockroaches I started hating it. And now it's beyond repair.

What am I doing with my life man? Why the hell do I need to live in that shack? Why can't I get a decent place for myself? I guess I am sleepy now. I drank yesterday, that too, like 50 ml of white wine and 100 ml of champagne. And I still feel drunk. You know what, I have made up my mind. I am selfish. And I want to live in a good place. Nothing else matters to me. Let everyone go to hell. I shall earn money, and I shall spend on myself. I don't care for anyone else. Will that make me happy?

Biraho madhur holo aaji....madhu raate...

Aamar kashto hole...nijer matribhashay lekha bhalo...tai noy ki? As Bindhu says,

me: u know wat
I wrote in my blog y'day
that u r a magic girl
Bindhu: magic girl ?
wy ?
me: read no
Bindhu: got no access :(
also u write in ur lang "aamar tomar homar " .. bla bala
how wil i understand
me: ha ha
ROTFL

Tumi ar o, dujonei aamar bhasha bujhbe na...

Bujhbe na...aamar kato kashto holo tomaar mail ta pore...ami bujhte parlaam moner modhye, je aste aste tumi aamar theke dure chole jachho...ebang jabe...ami kichhu atkate parbo na...aamar haate, as usual, kichhu ti nei...

Ar majar katha jano...ami paliye jeteo parbo na...ki korbo ami paliye giye...aajke aamar theke bhalo bhabe keu janena je ei career ta chhara aamar kachhe bachar rashad bolte ar kichhu nei...

Hemant bolchhilo...ami phire ele...pare bhebe dekhbe what to do...hoyto aabar ekta chakri badal...janina...bhalo lagchhe na...

kalke dokane kather toiri chotto meye putul dekhlaam - haate phool...and I asked myself, what is the difference between a princess and a peasant girl? All girls, at heart, have the same dreams, same thoughts, same aspirations.

And I dreamt, jadi tomaar saathe aamar phire jabar pareo bondhutto thake, ami tomaar jonyo ekta meye putul niye jabo...my last gift to u...

Ar bhablaam...ki bhaloi na hoto jadi tomaar deoa putul-ta, ar aamar tomake deoa putul-ta ek jaygay, eksaathe thakte parto sara jeebon...but what's the point in thinking such things?

Ami thik korechhi ami aamar moto jeebon katabo...r tomay birokto korbo na...ami to bhalo meye noi...I don't deserve anything good...

Ami Ganer Opare-r "biraho madhur holo aji...madhu raate"...gaan ta shunchhilaam...Pupe oi hajmi guli-r kagaj ta ghuriye ghuriye dekhchhilo...I treasure you to that extent...aamader eksaathe katano samay tuku, aamar incessant hasi...I will miss it...aamar kichhu bolar nei...

tumi khub bhalo korechho tomaar jeebone aamar importance ta chokhe angul diye dekhiye diye...arekjon seta na kore aamake anek kashto diechhilo ek kale...u spared me that...

Unfamiliar softness...

I had taken a survey kinda thing when I was in high school. It was supposed to analyze my traits and predict which career would suit me best. Finally when the results came out, they predicted stuff like accountant, clerk, etc. etc.

At times I feel they predicted correctly. Especially after I have started maintaining the expenses.xls. Another whim of mine, to keep a tab on daily expenses. Which I don't do anyways. But at least try to note down whatever I have spent, and for whichever purpose.

Well, last time I visited home, I forgot to send myself the updated copy through mail. So it remained in the hard disk of the home laptop, and my dad, despite my many instructions, was unable to send it. So I just noted down the expenses in a draft message in my mobile.

This time when bro was home, he sent it to me. I was feeling that this is quite futile work, to note down the details, in the xls (you see I had not noted down the description of the expenses in the draft, only the amount). But still, since I had nothing better to do in the weekend, I started the work today nevertheless. And it was actually fun, trying to predict, going back 2 months in the memory lane, what was the reason of a certain expenditure.

At the same time, I got this intense urge to listen to "Nityo tomaar je phool phute phulbone". I used to like this song so much as a kid. This was in the first Rabindrasangeet album of Suman, that came out in the 90s. So I searched a bit in youtube, and found the song. As it played, I kept working on the xls, and humming along with it.

Mind you, a certain sternness has come over in me in the last couple of days. Not talking with mom is a really tough decision, because she's the only person on earth, who really cares to talk to me. Still, my logic stayed as - if this is the future, let this be the present itself. An even more difficult decision to take was to remain invisible in gtalk. Gtalk is like my life blood. It keeps me alive. But, seeing that my friends don't really need me (I actually don't have any friend), I finally took this decision as well. In one sentence, if seclusion is the solution, let me embrace it.

So, I kept working on the xls, just for the sake of doing something. I can't keep my mind idle, try as I might. And since mostly I don't spend for things except lunch, snacks and bus fare, it was kinda routine, monotonous work. When I came up to a sudden entry, which had only "tu 13 27". I wondered to myself, now this is unnatural. 27 was for sure lunch, 13 would be bus fare, and a little stressful thinking reminded me, that on Monday, bus fares had increased, in the first week the conductors cheat a lot, though the just fare would be 11, he had taken 13. Okie, then where's the return bus fare part?

And in the girl, who was trying to act brave in isolation, an unfamiliar softness came over. I can't tell you how many times, I have remembered that day. That route. The happiness of that evening. The thrill that perhaps only a teenager feels. In the umpteen days of solitude that followed, I have relived those moments so many times. The day ended in pain, but the happiness that was mine just before that, and the realization that came just after that, was too precious, too unforeseen, too tumultuous. When I enjoy companionship to this extent, why do I plan to be alone?

"Pakhir kanthe aapni jagao anando...tumi phool-er bokhye bhoriya dao sugandho..."

You...can do magic, right?

My usual breakfast...my usual life...

It's happened to me time and again. So much so that it doesn't affect me now anymore.
So much so that the phrase 'being miserable' makes me laugh aloud.

Then Bee tells on my face. Bee is what I call Bindhu as. Because she calls me Dee. Whole day we'd keep talking like that...Dee...yes Bee...So Bee tells on my face. That I don't know how to live. And I argue. I say I am happy. Happy with my breakfast of milk, almonds and chocolate filled nougat. And we drift on to other topics.

Ya I do love my breakfast. One of the few things I love about Prague, is my breakfast. Something that doesn't get boring even after having over and again. It was a good day when I decided to buy my first packet of nougats from Interspar. I love the taste. Have taken a couple of packets from Albert...not good at all.

I tell myself. Pupu Ray, make the most of now. If you want to have a long walk...go for it. Don't stay locked up in the room. But what to do, I am scared of people. Then I tell myself, Pupu Ray, buy a bottle of liquor. It doesn't matter, get drunk. Again I am apprehensive. I don't want to...

I'd longingly look at the old couples. So much life is still left in them. Sitting in the wayside restaurants, sipping their drink. And still enjoying life. And I am alone, at the prime of my youth. And I won't even reach out.

Such small things break me down these days. Small small things make me feel terribly neglected and unwanted. Mom was supposed to get me a new gold chain. She did place the order with the goldsmith, and then didn't follow up. Every time I'd only ask her, is my chain ready? Wanted to have a long one made this time. With the ball and chain pattern. One I have probably noticed Pupe wearing in Gaaner Opare. Somehow it escaped her mind, and it's not yet ready. Yesterday when she finally told me this, and that she can't send it through bro (he's traveling back to Bangalore today) - I felt so so left out. Felt as if nobody cares for me. Even a small wish is not fulfilled. As it's my wish, it is not supposed to have any value. People can conveniently overlook.

I was inconsolable yesterday. In my mind I thought, I'd never even speak to my family once again. Yes I go to these extremes these days. I know after some time I will recover, and again become the good natured, oh ever-so-concerned girl that I am supposed to be. And everyone would forget that they are not supposed to take me for granted. I will again be treated like dirt. I know it. Still, I can't be angry on anyone. God hasn't made me like that. I can't hate anyone fully.

That is why, I say, that my misery doesn't have any importance. I do not have any importance. People can conveniently talk to me when they are free, and ignore me when they are busy. No one has ever taken the trouble to make me feel important. I know that if I am dead today, it won't matter to anyone on earth, for more than a day or two perhaps. Not even that. I don't hold a special place for anyone. I am not the world to anyone.

Still I want to live. I wish to live. May be that's a crime. I shall again wake up tomorrow, eat my breakfast happily, and pretend that I have a life. See moving ppts about people who are in grief, and think, that being unhappy is a nice way to spend my time. One who has all, can afford to crib.

Why the hell do I expect so much from life? Why not be satisfied with whatever it gives me? Why live my life looking at the empty mailbox and feeling neglected all the time. Why depend so much on others? Why should others care for me in the first place? Do I ever care about anyone? Always engrossed in my own selfish problems.

I don't even care to ask these days, if this will ever change. I know this won't. I wish I knew some way of changing my thought process. That's the only thing that can improve the situation. I am not supposed to dream. It has hurt me so many times in the past, it shall hurt me again. I don't want that. I won't dream and then everything will be alright.

He used to tell me, that he has done no mistake. He said, I blame him for nothing. He has done the practical thing. And that's why he's so happy today, so prosperous. He really hasn't done anything wrong. I had done wrong. So God never punished him. He punished me instead. Nobody ever did any wrong except me. If I don't have a life, that's entirely my fault. I shouldn't blame anybody, shouldn't envy anyone.

Finally, I don't know what got me, I wrote to him. And he wrote back. He took my name. It was so gratifying that he remembers me. But nothing more. He didn't add me to his friend list. And somehow I didn't feel like continuing the conversation. I don't have that flare anymore, of pursuing anything with passion.

It must have taken some magic to transform me so much that I could finally write the last entry. At that time too, I didn't know that it'd all end there. But now I see my mistake. And I am ashamed of my dreams. Of having dreamed in a baseless manner once again. I shouldn't have. Could have spared me the agony.

Is kadar aapse humko :)

Aah, if only I could ever put these feelings on paper (metaphorically you see). To people for whom happiness is rare, the heady feeling of success brings along a certain unquenchable appetite. May be for celebration, may be for companionship. I don't know. I know I should be practical and I am being perfectly realistic. But how can I deny that I have these feelings all the same?

For 2-3 days now, have been feeling like listening to the song. Sorry, I correct myself. Watching the song. 'Coz the song is closest to what I feel these days. Right in between some deadline and rush hour, right in the middle of a meeting, you come and enshroud me. Tell me what to do? How to get rid of this?

And queer most thing is that I write this on 18th of August. A day when, in my red chudidaar kameez I looked ravishing, and everything that was disturbing me kind of got solved, and it proved to be the magic day it is supposed to be...and all I do is think about...

Let my sky be yours...

In some part of the world it's already 18th of August. Somewhere it will be. I don't think there's any place yet, where it's just has been. But here, I am going to sleep now. Won't wait for the moment, as I usually do. For the simple reason that I am feeling sleepy. And these days, I do whatever I wish.

Olden days don't only have memories, they have smells too. Each different emotion has a distinct flavor. And when they mingle up - it's an entirely new experience.

All my sky
All my songs
Warm sunshine, freshness of dew...
La joie de la vie
the softest of hue
All that glows, all that's new...
Sweets and flowers
Sleepy, lazy hours
No heartbreak, no bidding adieu...

I don't think I'd ever write this for anyone else on earth :) That's where we'd end up, after everything else :) And it'd never change :)

Give me a smile. And keep smiling...

Uttor ashbe na...tumi ashbei ami jaani...

At times, I just feel like sitting and listening to Sumaner gaan. And as the tunes flow, I feel as if, all these years, from my childhood to date, is being enacted in front of my eyes.

Suman's songs mean to me, the first realization ever in life, of preference, of choice. I like his voice. I like his music. I simply love the words. I was born past the age of men (and women) who loved poetry. And of course, Tagore's songs were a thing of a far more long lost age. Suman was identity to us, the book fairs that would end with his songs, the walk along a long road, and amidst the traffic, crowd and noise, with the walkman playing his songs, the sheer joy and pride of possession, on buying his new cassette. The moments of discovering myself...and obviously Suman brings back the memories of my lost friendships...my once upon a time best friend, writing to me...tomaar tulona ami khunji na kakhono...bohu byabohar kara kono upomay...

I don't know what has happened to me. I really don't know. Bindhu is a magic girl. I can tell her anything and everything. And she takes it just at face value. Not a penny more or less. But even speaking out my mind doesn't heal the pain.

How will be the next August? Five years back, I experienced the worst kind of torturous hell. And four years back...the most wonderfully blissful heaven. Since then, life has been pretty much the same. Blows that I received, didn't have any long lasting impact. Happiness, if it came at all, didn't care to make a mark. I am tired now. Come what may, I want some extreme. This optimum living is killing me...

Chena dukkho chena sukh...chena chena hasi mukh...
Chena alo...chena andhokaar...

Aah Suman, someone called you a hypocrite, in some comment in you tube. I, who know hypocrisy to its ultimate extent, couldn't pity him enough. Suman, to people like me, you are a savior.

Urge to speak out...is so painful...

I am sleepy. Very rarely, and only in the life of some utterly confused people, does come a time when one is totally at a loss to understand the situation. I don't know what I want from my life. Moreover, I don't even know whether I want to live or die. I hate work, I hate eating, I hate sleeping, if a chat goes on for long, I hate even that. I'd talk with some long lost college friend, who, on his own accord has gotten in touch with me, and from his words, I can understand that he is genuinely concerned about me, and I won't like that!!! I'd look for contexts to finish the chat and log out.

It's not like this with everyone though. For example I can talk with Karthik for any length of time, without apprehensions. Still, it's not like what it used to be. With him, it's not about losing interest, with him, it's about getting alien. Way I have given up on many people. Like Anitha. Like Ananya. I know that at one point in time they were very good friends, but now they have their own world. Like he'd have soon. So I have alienated myself from them.

And truly speaking, what do I have to talk about? To talk about something worthwhile, you've got to have a life. Do I have one? I sincerely doubt.

I know, living these 31 years of life hasn't been tough. But I am very sure that now it will be. Something drastic, something miraculous ought to happen, to save me from this moribund. But I am too afraid even to dream. As I have told here, probably a 100 times, that I have made myself into this zombie as I don't want to get hurt again, but frankly speaking, today I feel, there's hardly any difference. At least when you are hurt, you feel alive.

You feel strange, when you want to speak out, but you can't. You feel stranger, when you know that you don't have to talk - someone already knows...

Silent raindrops...

It's all supposed to be in your mind. Whether you ought to be happy or sad. Even loneliness is in your mind. To some person, it'd be simple to handle. When you feel lonely, just go out and make friends. There's one girl in my Facebook school group, she's also single, of my age only. She talks talks and talks. Every other day she'd post something in the group. And I'd seldom get online only. This snob who lives in me, makes my life even more difficult.

And in life you need to be flexible. To be happy. I am very very rigid. As much as I have studied, everyone has preferences. Just that they are not rigid about it, way I am.

The third thing that annoys me is, why am I so good at my work. With half my faculties not working, mind being in a constant comatose state, I am able to extend the business. Why the hell?

I hate to go back to him. No, I don't want to talk about him. A person who is non existent in my life for so long. Never bothered whether I lived or died. The word "abhimaan" doesn't probably have a proper English translation. But that's what I have for him. Only that. Still he said...if I want something, I should ask. And I being a queen at heart, don't know how to ask. I know only how to suffer silently.

The other side of the coin

As soon as she'd return from office she'd start hogging. In a way she doesn't usually do when offshore. As soon as she's out of office, first thing she'd ask herself is - Interspar? Albert? Let's get something to eat. The amount of food she has in her fridge, really amazes me. To think it's been just five days she's arrived here.

Ultimate level of self indulgence? Don't think so. People become like this, when they are thoroughly depressed. And perhaps in the entire history of Pupu Ray's life, this is the first time she's not ready to admit to herself that she's depressed. "No it's ok", she'd say, "why should I be depressed? I am happy about what happened. I never even thought about having more expectations."

Such a liar she is. She is behaving as if, this is the last 3 months of life she'd get to live. Did I say 3? It might even be 2.

Yesterday Vs Today

How quickly life changes. Yesterday I was in a different city, country, continent. And probably in a different world. Sweet, dreamy, cuddling world. For once, I tried not to suppress my desires. It did seem pretty outrageous, I had no idea what I was doing, and why I was doing, but I liked it all the same. If you have been living a dead fish life for such a long long time, then only you realize what it is like, to be alive. To simply do what you like to do at this moment.

But as it is "my" life, there's gotta be few loopholes. I cannot live in a world of fantasy. Since I am a very honest person at heart, I tend to get involved. Feel, as if it is real. That was the "mistake" part. But no regret this time. I followed my heart for once.

Back to Prague. It was so sunny today, it was almost hurting my tired eyes. Time will only tell, if I shall come back for a next time. This time, I want to live very very happily. Happiness, which, I don't know will come back - ever. Way I was happy yesterday. Being a child, being pampered, being loved, is perhaps the most wonderful thing on earth. More so for me, as in my case it has been rare indeed.

There were plenty of reasons to get unhappy today. But I didn't. I have realized one thing. The entire wall of my grieving existence is broken. If at all, it will take time to come back.

Ohh, did I tell you? I came via Paris this time. If visiting 2 terminals of CDG airport means anything, then I have been to Paris :)

Sedin dujone....

God, spare me this. Why do You do this to me everytime. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I don't want to love anymore God, let me live alone.

Would You ever understand the pain of loving and losing? Struggling at every step? Feeling lonely? Bracing Yourself and trying to keep Yourself steady? And being uprooted? Regularly? Since You are God, You don't need to do that.

I hate this uprooting. I don't want to go now. But when I think deeply, I think it is perhaps better to go. It is better not to get myself in any kind of illusion. Harry Potter won't come and save me everytime with his crude magic (yeah to tell the truth, the magic you did Harry, was indeed undesirable number 1 :D :D ).

Should I really think about marrying and settling down? Do away with the childish romance? Can I live life after that? But if I don't do that, what is the other way out? Ok then, let's give it a shot. I anyways don't have anything to lose.

Today I feel, as if each and every decision I have taken in life has been wrong. Has somehow backfired on me. I want to tell like Laila in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara, "Mujhe apsos karna nahi aata" - but himmat hi kahan hai mujhmein? All I know is to crib, crib crib. Never did anything for myself. Never made my parents happy. Just lived this life...without being alive ever.

Today, it all seems like a dream. It really does. That day it seemed so real...so so real. How was I mistaken to this extent, why had I to do this foolishness. Why have I been such an idiot?

Dekho...apsos hi bus kar rahihun...nahi? Huh...I won't change. I can't change. I shall never intervene and finally say, God does everything for good. Good???!!!

When shall I start trusting myself and my instincts? When shall I do something for myself, to make me happy?

Iti Moni...

I remember his sermon - expectation rakkho hi mat....everything changed but this fact didn't change. That I shouldn't keep any expectation from anyone.

Well it's certainly not like 26th August, 2007. But - aamake taan maare ratri jaga nadi...

You can call it a flash back. We eating pizza, he giving me the piece with more pineapple. She likes pumpkin curry, she likes pineapple, subtle facts, which, frankly speaking, probably even my mom and dad don't know. We used to sit side by side or facing each other - during each and every meal. I somehow remember the protection. The shielding.

Can't help quoting the chat I had today with Deepti.

me: n I dint feel anything bt care
it was like he was trying to shield me...protect me
koi galat intention laga nahi
Deepti: hmm
jyada soch mat
me: haan phir maine sochna chhod diya
Deepti: use bol shadi karni hai tabhi ye sab kare
otherwise koi jaroorat nahi
me: ha ha ha dadima
usse shaadi nai karni mere se
Deepti: has mat
abse kathor ban balike
me: it was just an act of comforting
mujhe bhi waisa hi laga
no attraction
Deepti: tell him no need to comfort in that way then if he doesn't want to marry
u wl be comforted only with marriage
me: deepti
tu kitni practical ban gayi hai
Deepti: and tell him marriage doesn't mean only fun n sex to u
me: tu yeh movie dekh
phir baat karenge

The movie I spoke about was of course, Iti Mrinalini. And Koushik Sen's performance as Chintan Nair was absolutely stunning.


"Minnie, you know only one kind of love. At times you have to just let go, don't have any expectation. There is a love that sets you free..."

All night I dreamt. It holds me back...aamake taan maare...

They say I am caring. Who did I learn the care from? They said I am a good host - who taught me? I am trying to do without you, but how can I ever do without your reflection? Which seems to be there in every good person I meet?

Maa pakhi is a very frequently used concept in bengali literature. As on this day, he seems to be my maa pakhi. I know it's a bit of an overstatement, but, frankly speaking, it's only him, who makes me gently put my head on front seat in the bus, and reflect and realize, with a lot of warmth and gratitude, that I feel shielded.

Finally I have reached that stage in life when I do not care. Still, I liked that fact that he just supports. Doesn't indulge weakness. Yesterday night, I really felt elated. I can live alone now. Can I have a friend like Mrinalini did? Who says, 'ami aschi', in my worst moment? Can I ask for just this much, dear God?