Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Aye zindagi...gale lagale...

I had a lot of packing to do today. Tomorrow I am shifting to a new house. But nothing matters to me right now. I haven't done much also, after returning from office. Elaborate plans were made though. To cook rice and fry eggs and make sabjis...and eat them all up in the last 3 meals to follow in this place. To wrap up the masalas carefully, and pack them up. Not to forget the jewelry, that I kept separately in the TV table drawer (the gold itself is worth a lot now, I must remember). And all I am doing is - came back, opened gmail, chatted with Ani, uploaded my CV in some site, listened once again to "aha tomaar sange praner khela" and kept gazing at IMG_2388.jpg for hours, and read the chat log - just once or twice...

Aah, to think that I was facing my worst ever depression till yesterday. All because of some colleagues who seemed to be better privileged than me, and some guy, whom I hardly know for 6-8 months is supposedly ignoring me. For this reason, I haven't spoken to my mom (who - let me take this opportunity to admit - is pretty much the best mom you can hope to get) and yesterday when bro kinda begged me to call home, I couldn't continue the conversation for more than 6 minutes. Because of the shifting I was forced not to buy more ice cream, so I got a full pack of yogurt and ate it up in large spoon fulls (aah my homemade vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce and roasted almonds - usually manages to get me out of any depression for at least the time duration it lasts). I literally felt yesterday, that it's the end of my life. Life doesn't have anything more. I couldn't make head or tail of the WMS report I was working on (of all living beings, I could remember only Sombaba) and situation didn't improve much when it was finally EOD in India, and Subarna didn't wish me Happy Teacher's Day. She's the student who'd come to meet me all the way from Dhanbad, when I had quit the lecturer job and was all set for Mysore (She wished me today btw).

So yesterday was gloomy, to say the least. I felt utterly tired. Slept off early too. Not at all looking forward for today morning to happen in my life. In the morning I as usual got late (arranging for my compulsory money saving lunch box) and missed to buy the monthly pass for metro (it was expiring today). Cursed myself and reached office some 15 minutes late. Was being utterly bugged by the QA stuff, which is not my responsibility anyways, and the casual attitude of offshore people (one thing I cannot stand is casual attitude at work - even if you are in notice period, be serious about work yaar - you are still on the rolls) - and was trying to concentrate on my work - when - the magic happened.

There's this dialogue in Refugee movie, which I have told him a number of times. Sach mein tum ho, ya main sapna dekh rahihun...

I couldn't write such a big sentence. It ended in one word, Aap?

And the gush of joy, the urge to live - that came over me, in an overwhelming way - was nothing that any Harry Potter, any Edward Cullen, any Tom Hanks can ever create for me. No one in the wide world, in real or imaginative existence, can bring about this transformation of doom to delight in a blink. I must have written here some days back that Karthik makes me happy. Or I miss the days with Anand. The difference is, they are just happiness, not bliss. They don't touch the innermost core of my heart in a way he does. They don't know how to play the strings of my heart, let alone bring out mellifluous music.

There must be reasons why I chose to remain single. So that I am free to enjoy these rare occurrences. This time it happened almost after 10 months, next time it might happen after 10 years. All of a sudden, out of the blue he'd appear and take my name and ask me how are you? And write gud instead of good. Just to check if I remember. And to let me know that he hasn't changed his ways because of me. And probably he still doesn't drink from a plastic bottle. And he still writes FYA please in mails, and he still remembers me when drinking sugarcane juice. But we won't speak aloud on these things. I'd blabber a bit, he'd listen. He'd write a line or two, and then go away for the next ten years.

But he'd come back at length for sure. Probably when he feels I am not able to take it anymore.

Humne bahane se...chhupke zamane se...palko ke parde mein ghar bhar liya...
Tera sahara mil gaya hai zindagi...
Aye zindagi gale lagale
Humne bhi tere har ek gham ko gale se lagaya hai...hai na?

Love is unconditional right? And I can tell you this much, at this moment, I am at peace with myself. Not hopeful, but blissful.

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