Tu na ho to main kahaan hun??

Well, I remember (with a lot of horror) the last two new years. When people happen to revel in their own happiness and celebrations, seldom do they understand what happens to someone who's not quite in the mood. I am now helplessly waiting for the same torture to begin. People shouting fanatically - Happy New Year.

This is something I don't understand. What changes with a year. But forget it. It's not important.

Well, for one thing, 2011 was eventful. Two Europe trips and the short trip to Delhi were the major highlights. After 2007, this was the maximum travel I ever had in life. And I lived in absolute luxury. First the Europe accommodation was wonderful, then, in general the money that came in was like - never before.

Another high point was - I got a real good friend, and had a lot of adventure as our relationship matured. Tears or smiles, whatever he has given me, at length, I treasure him because - whatever happens, he is one person I can tell in the face, whatever I think. This kind of rapport I never had with anyone. It'd be like - you know what, you are my best friend. You know, I feel I can't do without you. You know, I feel I love you, and can even think of marrying you. I don't understand you. I feel I am collapsing, can you help me to recover? Anything and everything I'd tell him. And since he is like a rock, it doesn't matter much. He never reacts and knows I am crazy :)

2011 ended with me my mobile being stolen. The last thing that used to remind me of Anand. We had gone and bought it together. He had chosen it for me, said, it'd look good in my hand. 29th December evening, as I was returning home, a black doggy was run over by the bus I was in, and then while getting down from the bus, somebody picked up the mobile. When the initial bit of agitation had died down, first apprehension I had was - is he ok? I have no way to know that. But in all probability he'd be ok only. Got a new mobile. But what to do about the 2 year long data that had gotten accumulated? The sms's, the pictures, the voice and song recordings. Was particularly feeling sorry about the sms's we have been sharing in our 1 year of friendship. They have a certain quaint enigmatic beauty about them. My hugely emotional ones compared to his, "Nonsense" and "Idiot man u r" ones. He told me, he'd forward me all the sms's - said, "You have a backup man". This is what I love about him. He can do anything to me, but I can't stop loving him ever. I don't know, I am now too weak to make predictions, but somehow I have this strong intuition, that we won't ever be able to break up completely.

Well, would also like to mention the antakshari competition we had in office. High points were, to get a chocolate for singing two so called difficult songs (how can songs I like be difficult for me - I literally live with them) - being offered to sing on company day (who knows whether I'd be there till then) - fighting and getting a consolation prize (a steel tiffin box) - and well being forced to sing "I wanna make love to you" - the Aitraaz song, amidst a hooting office crowd, I was so desperate to win you see. I had this one chance to make up for all that has been going on in life, his reluctance to commit, the depression that resulted, the ill health, the hopelessness, the mobile tragedy, everything I wanted to drown.

I didn't actually know, I can sing "yeh kahaan aagaye hum" so well. "Sawan barse tarse dil" was different - it is my all time favorite, even it was Anand's favorite as well, he always used to ask me to sing it (God only knows why I remember him so much). But the Silsila song, I had never ever sung aloud even. You see I am a principled girl and extra marital affair is not my preferred topic. But it's true that I did receive a clap from the entire audience after singing the song. It was an amazing feeling. It was my small tribute to him, to let him know what I have been feeling recently. I feel so surprised at times, do I really love this thin, black, idiot of a man to this extent? But then, see the video of the Silsila song once. See Rekha's spontaneity in it. You just might understand :)

By the way, Happy New Year 2012. 20.12.2012 is a Thursday this time. My 33rd birthday. And the world is supposed to end the next day. Let's see.

A forgotten 24th December...

There's less than 12 hours left and I definitely don't want to go back. But, when does my wish count. Firstly, treachery is not my forte. I can't just make up a story and say that for so and so reason I cannot join back office in next two weeks or 1 month. I am imaginative enough to make up a 100 convincing stories, but I cannot tell a lie. I'll be caught, the moment I open my mouth. So I simply give in and board the "on time" indigo flight.

Sooner or later I do need to take the decision. It is scary to lose the steady flow of money. But at the same time, I just can't handle this situation. I don't have any hope left in life, relying on which I can sustain a lonely life. I need my parents, I need Kolkata. I just pray to God, that He gives me courage enough, to do the right thing.

One more small thing I wanted to write. It feels strange to have lost him all of a sudden, entirely. He doesn't seem a part of me anymore. I don't feel like sharing my thoughts and small pleasures of life with him. It's not detachment. It's indeed a break up. As a result of which I don't succumb to any pain, I just try even more furiously to live, live on my own. How strange, now that I write this, I realize, I didn't even remember the first anniversary of our meeting. None of us did. In 1 year, we went through everything. Even the end.

Do or die?

Did I ever tell you...I love Karan Johar's cut shots in Kabhi Khushi Kabhi Gham during Shah Rukh and Kajol's marriage? Well, that's among the most beautiful form of art I have ever seen. It spells commitment. And it shows so naturally, the turmoils a human mind goes through, during the critical moment of decision making.

I have often wondered if the same can be replicated in writing. Cut shots. In words.

When he did call the next morning, I spontaneously started crying.
"You really forgot? How on earth could that be possible?"
"I did"
"That shows you don't even think about me, I'm so stupid to give you this much importance, you don't even care..."
"I do"

The typical Taurus. You can't make them speak more than this. But they manage to comfort. But how much? Not much.

For love once lost, doesn't come back. Never comes back. But thoughts do. Millions of thoughts. All of a sudden, I discover numerous things in tandem.

I love my home. I hate my job.
I love Kolkata. I don't like Bangalore half as much.
I love the way my room here is so full of sunshine and warmth. I hate the dreary Bangalore flat.
It costs me nothing to stay here. It'd cost me a lakh of deposit + 10K monthly rent to get a better place in Bangalore.
I don't have a job in Kolkata. I have a job in Bangalore.
I have saved enough. I can have a lavish break for minimum 1 year, which I guess I deserve.
Kolkata Bookfair - Janurary 3rd week. Bangalore has nothing for me.
Kolkata - winter's lovely, but summer's scary. Bangalore climate suits me in an evergreen way.
Kolkata is like a quilt. Bangalore's like a thorn.

When I changed my job in 2010, I didn't have anything in Bangalore. But at least I was looking forward to a new life, new people, new surroundings, onsite opportunity. That kind of kept me going.

Today, I literally don't find any attraction in Bangalore. There's no point torturing this one soul, who just tried to help, but simply can't commit to me. When somethings just can't happen, no point in pursuing that.

On the other hand, Kolkata has movies. Bengali books. Kolkata has mom and dad. Kolkata has my favorite foods, be it street junks like roll and papdi chat (I can bet you'll never try papdi chat anywhere else) - ohh the awesome fish batter fry, the moghlai paratha and kolkata biriyani - and ohh ohh the bengali breakfast of radhaballavi and aludam - not to mention the sweets, especially my favorite...rabdi. Takes away all frustrations in life. Over that the awesome food my mom makes. What else do you need to live life? And of course, Kolkata has my granny. My one and only granny of 77 years, who climbs up to 1st floor to comfort me, all on her own, when I am crying behind closed doors, and won't be calmed down by anyone else (Prior to this she called me on my phone - whereas during normal times she can't understand how a mobile operates). My very loving, yet ruthlessly practical (another Sagittarian) pink complexioned, wrinkle free, beautiful granny, who probably doesn't have many more years to live. Isn't it my duty to give her company and run small errands for her? And then, this lady became a widow at 30 and brought up a girl child solely on her husband's pension. So, why can't me, the millionaire, take a risk of leaving my job? Come on, let's face it. What? Career goes for a toss? I spend all my money and become a pauper? Can't help my family if there is a medical emergency?

Amolkanti roddur hote cheyechhilo...amolkanti roddur hote pareni...

Shouldn't I even give it a try, to become sunshine? For these 32 years, I have been depressed, and have dutifully ignored that depression and lived life as if I'm a machine. Come what may, I want to live a year like a proper normal living being, preferably a winged creature :)

To think of it, I don't need a husband. I don't need company. I can do without an offspring. For God's sake, for 32 years in life, I have been doing without myself. Now all I want is to live. No more planning, no more dreaming. From last night, all I'm praying is - let the next few hours never get over. Let Sunday never come. I don't want to leave my city.

Today morning started with a minor attack of asthma, after a long time. Showed signs yesterday night itself, and worsened gradually. I took preventive medicines, and afternoon was much better, except a terrible headache. I had promised to myself I won't take painkillers, but was forced to take one after almost a year, because even coffee didn't help. But at heart I knew that the main cause of my ailment was the ticking time. If ever I wanted to take a decision, it's now. God, please give me courage that I can resign from my job. My job doesn't buy me life. It's here, and it comes for free.

My beagle, whom I have named Kutua (his good name is Sangeet Ray) has a pretty stupid and obstinate face, like mine. He's giving me company, as I write this in the middle of the night. Another 60 hours or so of life is left in my city. I hope I can make up my mind by then. If I decide to come back, I'll get the entire gang of Neelu, Appu, Pinkpong and everyone else. Will get Nupur from downstairs. Then we'll stay here happily, in this beautiful room with two huge windows. We'll read a lot, write a lot, watch movies, and watch TV (these days I watch at least 3 hours of Bengali programs - believe me or not). I shall even get my painting stuff, why not? Aah, sounds too good to be true. Let's see.

Birthday...

Bittersweet is a very common phrase. There must be a reason why we are taught not to bare ourselves completely. Because, when you learn, that what you were trying to give, from the innermost core of your heart, was not important enough (or important at all) to the other person, then you feel very weak, very lost.

To think, I am a proper Sagittarian. To think, when I dream, it doesn't know any bound. And from the first day that I have understood love, I have always felt (and dreamed) that my partner will love me even more than I do.

I might be a very wretched person. But my birthday is important to me. I know now how overboard I had gone. How much I had dreamed without deserving it. To think of aiming for Pegasus when I am totally irrelevant in his life.

I remember two years back, hoping against hope that he will call once, he will never manage to leave me forever. And I remember my bossie's mails. Boasting how consistently he manages to forget my birthday every time. But, this time, swear on God, I didn't foresee that he won't even care to wish me.

Birthday was otherwise good. High point being the meeting with Ananya, and the spontaneous tears we shed together, the shopping we did, the toddlers' film (even children's film will be an understatement for Gosaibaganer Bhoot) we watched together...and in general the madness we enjoyed.

I close the day with a song which both inspires and haunts:

Jeevan ke dukhon se yun darrte nahi hai...
Aise bachke sach se gujarte nahi hai...
Sukh ki hai chah to dukh bhi sehna hai...

I'd very much like to have an idea just how much dukh should be enough...to at least be able to dream about sukh without this terrible repentance.

When the most important person in your life manages to make you cry on your birthday, just tell me, if any repentance is enough to make up for giving him the pedestal?

Anyways, thanks to the numerous people for whom I have probably never spared a thought, but who happened to wish me. They have taught me a very big lesson.

useless holiday...hopeless birthday...

I love to write, and thank God for that. If this vent had not been there, I don't know in what way I'd have succumbed.

I literally feel like doing what I plan to do tomorrow. Roam around aimlessly. Because I don't know what else to do.

Just a couple of days back I was writing about stability. And tonight, alone in a room, half hungry, half dazed, I question myself, what is stability? I remember an O Henry story, name I have forgotten, a girl...was very hungry, on the verge of death, when a guy mistakenly knocks at her flat. I have waited all my life for that kind of romance. But, at length, an apt description of myself would be - I'm but a kid.

It's not that men don't face this. There are men who depend on women, who dread her loss. Not my men, or at least, they don't feel this particular emotion for me.

World doesn't work the way I want. What happened so far, I had imagined, but I was never convinced that this would happen. But, still it did. Now I'm convinced that this would go no further. So things get complicated.

I'm one terribly impatient person. That adds to the problem. I demand things I don't have any means to achieve. All of a sudden, I'd demand friends, I'd demand I talk with someone whole night, I party, I go for long bike rides. How the hell do I make this possible? And worse thing, I demand change from people who won't change. Who don't like to change.

I feel it in my veins that the end is pretty near. Ok, I have fought for the last two years, and outwardly survived pretty successfully. This year would be difficult. And I need him for a little while more. Way I need my inhaler at times these days. I know this is madness, but I want to give in. I really must praise my friend for saying the most apt thing on earth - whichever guy she chooses hands her his marriage card. This time, I'd cling on to the guy even till the eve of his marriage. After that - we'll think.

Perhaps this is going to be my last visit to my hometown. I can't handle the whims of my parents anymore. They are too narrow minded. I wonder why I didn't see this before. It's ok. Someday or the other, I had to start living alone, like an island. I'm glad it has come at last.

Why the hell did I decide to come home for my birthday? I can very well foresee what kind of birthday I'd be having. Had I been in Bangalore, I'm sure it wouldn't have been worse. I'll certainly finish off the beer. That's one thing I'll do on my birthday. Cheers to life :)

When was it that I first said my golden words? Don't remember exactly, must be sometime in school. Why does 20th December come at all? Why isn't 19th followed by 21st? Funny thing is, nothing has changed in 20 odd years. The question still lingers. Why was I born?

Proud to be an idiot...

Way a friend talks to a friend.
Way a person repents.
Way lovers kiss for the first time.
Way a decision is taken.
Way one wakes up...and ponders on the first thought that comes to mind.
Way I realized that love is wonderful.

What else could I have done? He's not a black box to me. In fact I'm the person who knows things about him even he doesn't know. So what else could I have done?

I will stop thinking about this. How many years are left for me? 60? At max? How is it difficult to break up this time period, into small chunks of 16 hours, considering sleep doesn't elude me, and I have full 8 hours of peace. These 16 hours can again be broken up into smaller chunks of 1, 2 or 4 hours at max, and all I need to do is to find worthwhile work to fill up this time.

I don't believe in arranged marriages. Not that I won't marry. I'll marry once I meet my soul mate...but that should be accidental, not premeditated. Everyone has a goal in life, right? My goal is to find that one person, who will understand me. Who will protect me, and love me blindly. I can wait all my life for that person. As I have written here so many times, in my childhood, I always wanted a daughter for myself. Then one day, Rito told me, I'd never have a daughter, it's not there in my horoscope. In some things, I believe in astrology. This was one. So...slowly I adapted myself, to the idea of having a son. You see, I tend to accept. I'm not the revolting type. Then, in my worse time, this son became my obsession. Two years back, after my break up, all I wanted was to get married, and have a child. I even repented often, that had I actually compromised and gotten married, even if the marriage would have lasted a little while, I could have had a kid, someone to hold on to for life. Reason why I was so keen on an early marriage was also the fact that I might be running out of time. But as I said, I have managed to accept now. I shall never have a child, never do justice to the point that God created me as a woman. I am also bringing myself in terms with other things. I might soon be losing my mental capability to do my work properly. I might face a lonely death. But who cares?

It's not because of him. First thing I'd do is to alienate myself from him. For he deserves a decent life by all means. But, it's something so difficult, I can't even think of it. This has never happened. He's the first person with whom my ego has willingly lost the battle. In my worst bouts of anger also, all I want is to hold his hand and just be with him. I have become so much like him, that I have started thinking like him. Thinking on the spur of the moment. Just imagine, I, the calculative, contemplative me. I seriously don't think about tomorrow anymore. So I'm no one to confirm what I shall be doing tomorrow. I'm indeed thankful to God that he has given me my independence of choice. I choose to destroy myself.

A small thing I cannot help writing about. Of the myriads of things we talked about yesterday night, one point struck me particularly. He said something like, way my past relationship deteriorated over 5 years, our relation might have a similar fate. And I found myself shouting at him, who has stayed with Anand for 5 years, and has stayed with you as well? Who knows it better? And as I slept, and as I woke up in the morning, all that filled my mind, was the comfort I have with him. Way even when we curse each other, it's so full of love and respect. Way I never get angry with him actually. I'm very sure, even after he gets married to another girl, I'll never blame him (I'll feel bad, but that's my own feeling)...and most of all, I remembered Deepti's mail. She was working on something, and she remembered WG at every step - she wrote to me saying, how she realized he's her guiding star. And I remembered how...I lost the person I loved most, because of him. Neither can I go back to that state again (I have tried). Love a person who never loved me back? NO WAY.

All I know is, he loves me a lot. And same here. I don't know how long this will last. I'm sure my mind will change after his marriage. It will be too late for me to get married then. All accepted, I cannot consent now, for marriage with someone else. You may call it serial monogamy, but I have my own definition of commitment, and I must stick to that.

Abhimaan...

Excerpts from a certain edition of The Telegraph - Calcutta:

Educationist Pabitra Sarkar says it is difficult to find the English equivalents of two kinds of words in Bengali. One: cultural terms like abhisar and abhiman, used to such rich effect in Vaishnava padabalis.

Abhiman: The original meaning was pride, but the current usage — anger, or something close to it, at being upset with a loved one. This one word is one whole chapter in any relationship, be it between lovers or between parent and child or between siblings or friends. Or just think Radha, when Krishna comes back after having spent the night with Chandrabali.

Poet Sankha Ghosh misses the emotion in the word abhiman in the English vocabulary. “Try to translate it. Abhiman is not anger or sorrow. It is a temporary expression of a feeling about a loved one that he or she is supposed to address. People speaking in other languages must also be feeling the sentiment. I wonder how they express it,” he says.

Abhimaan will soon become my most favorite word, if it's already not the one.

Abhimaan is something that stems from love. It comes only when someone declares you to be precious, through act or words, that you feel abhimaan subsequently, when you lose that position. It's the trauma of internal hemorrhage, you feel the lack of care so intensely, yet you cannot plead, neither can you understand why on earth are you being punished, what has changed in the meanwhile.

I try to be normal. I try not to be obsessive. The anger comes out in a more skewed way than I could ever imagine. I don't know why I am being forced to go through this. A clear NO would solve my problem. But that won't come. I'm losing my patience in its entirety. I hate situations which I can't explain.

Today I went to meet a friend. A very old school friend, whom I was meeting almost after 13 years. She, by the way, is perfectly nice, except for some traits which I can't support. She can be very bitter and one sided in criticism. Things that I can naturally accept...she can't. Things like a friend's small and cluttered house. My house was never well decorated (recently things are getting better) - so I never felt it can be some big deal. And, fact is that I tend to accept things the way they are. I don't ask questions. Surprising thing was, when I visited the house of this particular friend, I found it in a much worse condition than either mine or the previous friend's house she had criticized. That kind of made me conclude that she must love criticism. But apart from this one small thing, she really isn't harmful. And though I was a bit stiff during the meeting, said the right things, paid for the food and tried to be in sync with her thoughts (I had actually thought of wearing salwar suit and gold ornaments so that she doesn't find me ultra modern - but finally ended up wearing jeans and a pretty revealing t-shirt), the meeting did go well. I mean school...brings back a lot of memories. School was something crazy, some good time. However in between the conversation, she did say something like - one other common friend, via another common friend had intimated her about my break up, in a sentence like - whichever guy she finds, hands her his marriage card.

Frankly speaking, it didn't matter much if a common friend has actually used this sentence (or a thought like - what a laughing stock I must be among my friends - didn't really occur). What I felt is a terrible abhimaan. I had given up on life, on hopes. And he knew that. He knew me better than any other man has ever known. I am surprised to realize, he never knew what a single touch of his can do to me. And he doesn't understand how his ignorance drives me mad. None of my so called friends know about him. Hardly anyone would realize that yet another break up has occurred in my life, if we part ways now. Those who know, tried their best to stop me, and would sigh and accept the fact that I deserved it. But I'd always remember how it all got repeated. How yet another time, a person whom I have loved, handed me his marriage invitation. This time, it's my best friend who did it. Tell me, is it indeed possible to accept this situation ever? To tell myself, that he didn't do it purposefully - he's a kid? He wasn't a kid when he comforted me, he tried to induce new life in me, he made me laugh like a child. He was a proper grown up sensitive person. Now, that things didn't work out, and unlike my friend, I don't really tend to criticize people, he becomes a kid, is it?

Why are men like this? Why was Shri Krishna so insensitive to Radhika, and we still worship him? And can I call him my best friend anymore? I'm hurt, I'm hurt...

A thoughtful day...

A while back...I was really shy about socializing. But frankly speaking, I loved it today. It was one of my cousin's marriage reception. And the first Bengali marriage I'm attending in a loooooooooong time, if I'm not mistaken, it's been more than seven years.

Too engrossed I have been with my life. Didn't even notice how time has flown by. Kids whom I have literally seen crawling, are getting married. Gives you goosebumps almost.

Though I'm not keeping well ever since I've come to Kolkata, I still gave my fullest enthusiasm to today's event. Did a proper make up, wore a gorgeous saree. Some person in some snacks corner in the venue actually called me bou-di (way they call married ladies) - all thanks to my never before big red bindi and brownish lipstick :)

I loved to meet my relatives. Most of whom I'm meeting almost at a gap of more than 10 years. Uncles and aunts and grannies who have pampered me as I have grown up. I felt how much love I have concealed in myself over the years, as I spontaneously ran to them and embraced them after touching their feet. To think, I kept telling myself that nobody loves me, and I completely forgot these faces.

Once particularly emotional time was the first meeting of all my grandma's siblings. Two brothers have passed away, but 4 sisters and the youngest brother still live. They were meeting each other after a long time. In this time, they have experienced bereavements and misunderstandings and family feuds, but the sibling love seemed unaltered, in fact it seemed to have grown.

My maternal uncles and aunts couldn't stop exclaiming how similar I look to my mom. Actually I myself discovered the similarity is obvious. In the saree, I literally looked my mom's clone. And not to be modest, I looked extremely pretty, the authentic Bengali girl. After a long time I loved myself so completely.

Icing on the cake was my last moment meeting with Jhumi didi. All through the evening I kept telling everyone, I wish I'd be able to meet Jhumi didi...haven't seen her for ages. Luckily just as we were leaving, her car arrived. Once again I ran to embrace, my wonderfully talented sister, and all she could say is - you have grown up...you have grown up. Jhumi didi to me...will never be the most educated lady in the family. She will always be the pillar of strength. I was a toddler in the school, she was in the highest class in junior school - everyday, during break, she'd make it a point that she comes to meet me in my class. That I have such a big sister to protect me, was such a comfort in a rather unknown place that school was initially...loved to meet her after such a long time...old memories never fade...do they?

Some obvious thoughts that came to my mind today was regarding my marriage. My preferences apart, shouldn't I give my parents a chance to feel this happiness? Why should I keep torturing them for my inexplicable whims for undeserving people? Is it really so difficult to settle down with a person of their choice?

And as I kept thinking about this, only one person came to my mind...a person who doesn't seem to care...is it that I'm too much in a hurry that I don't have time to read his mind? Or is it that I am too much in love with him to accept the truth, that he is not even thinking about it? My love stories don't usually work out right? At times people lose interest after 5 years of courtship, at times barely within two months, at times they don't know my mind at all, or perhaps knowingly ignore. How long can this child's play go on? I know life has a lot of loopholes may be, but life has these immense satisfactions too. Of seeing your family tree grow, giving birth to your kids, getting them educated, marrying them off, welcoming the grand kids, and what can be more pleasurable than bringing home the grand daughter in law - to continue the legacy.

I have to take time and think...but I can't continue this directionless life anymore...

Kolkata...again...

I seek stability. Most of all, more than anything else in life. Homecoming is sweet, the only thorn that hurts is - this is but a transient phase. Two weeks will go by in a moment.

Not that I don't like Bangalore. As I was walking back home on Thursday evening, I did feel a pang. Felt as if I'd miss everything, each stall on the roadside, each individual doggy, black, brown or tawny colored, each familiar face, the myriad of thoughts I have in my mind, as I walk home, a time which is very much mine, very much stress free, after a long tiring day. Once I reach home new frustrations would start, existing confusions would persist. So I very much enjoy those few moments of walking - as my ipod would inevitably play.

I thought of writing a small entry one day, somehow that never happened. Now I don't remember the incidents clearly, but still want to write about it - so that I can explain what this walk means to me. That morning, so far as I remember, it was still October, and I was kind of on top of the world. As I walked towards the bus stand, I remembered Shanu. I somehow sketched a picture of visiting her once again in Delhi, this time not alone. Though I wholeheartedly admit I am a most imaginative person, still there is a distinct reason behind this particular thought. Those couple of days spent in Delhi were among my happiest. For I am quite sure now, I'll never have a baby girl, which has probably been my oldest dream in life. In Shanu I could see my own reflection. Her sulking, her tantrums, and her sitting in one corner, well hidden behind the sofa and shedding silent tears - her incessant attempts of keeping everyone happy and at the same time maintaining her whims - and all those times spent with her sitting on my belly and talking incessantly with me. "Pishi..." in her sweet shrill voice. And the thoughts would come to me once in a while, I was just realizing them, they were very nascent, but I'd still feel his nearness somehow, and get goosebumps...

So for some reason, I was weaving this sweet picture, when we were visiting Shanu, and I'd try my best to impress on her how stupid her uncle is :) Shanu has a great sense of humor. She knows only two Indian languages, Hindi and Bengali. She'd make sure that for people who don't know both, she speaks in the unknown language, so that she remains incomprehensible. Now, I just wondered what Shanu would probably do to her uncle, who unfortunately, cannot speak well in any language on earth.

Something went awry in a huge way that day. As I returned home that night, I reflected, how transformed my thoughts are. The morning's ideas were no more of any relevance. I silently apologized to Shanu, Shanu sweety, sorry, me and you won't ever be able to make fun of him I guess...I walked on...I looked around, I told myself, perhaps this is my life, this familiar road, walking back home everyday, the same shops, the same smell of food, people speaking on the phone, chatting with friends, boy and girl walking hand in hand, and me - just reminiscing or contemplating, never living in the present, never expecting anything to happen, which would make NOW worthwhile.

This walk in a way, symbolizes me, moving on for nothing. I don't know what lies ahead, all I know is, in all probability it is nothingness.

So...when at the end of that nothingness, there is a short visit to home, followed by void, more travel, more lack of plans and more unmet dreams, how on earth can someone be contented? Oh, if it were that I don't have the ingredients to cook, that could have been an unfortunate situation, and I'd rather remain hungry. But what does one do when the things just won't get cooked? they just remain raw, and I have to hold my patience - when 90% chance is that it'd get burnt? How long can someone keep hoping? At best I can get a new ration, get new vessels, new fuel too..but isn't it practically impossible to continue this experiment eternally?

I don't know...the sparrow outside the window, whom I met today afternoon, asked me to hold on...it was a tiny little being, perhaps not even fully grown. But it seemed wiser than me. "See, I'm just learning to fly...and you are thinking of giving up?"

Tere bina beswadi beswadi ratiya...o sajna...

As was the case with the Raaz song, this song kept coming back to me in the past few days...in the middle of all work, all of a sudden a voice would come out with utmost pain...Katena Katena Tere Bina...

I didn't have the remotest idea that this would happen. Thankfully, now I have been able to gather enough work in office to save myself from thinking. I really should thank my employers for treating me so liberally. What I have not gained in the last one year. I should be happy, way my career is developing. A particularly happy event was receiving a mail from the CEO, welcoming me to my new role. Simply loved it. He was the only person I shared the mail with. We had some casual communication, thanks to that mail. Probably the only communication we had this week, apart from his sms's and missed calls. That too has stopped now.

It feels so empty at moments. Somethings are a common trait in our relationship. Like my crying in Volvo buses. Firstly, the Volvo buses make you feel comfortable (except the conductor's reluctance to give 5 Rs change). Then, most people are dozing off. So you can indulge your break down. Today for example, I was as usual tuned in to my ipod. The song from Chak De India, Maula mere le le meri jaan...was playing. Suddenly I remembered my SG days. This was a particular favorite of Sambit. And inevitably I remembered him. Way he would comment on my thoughts (there was this line tija tera rang ttha main to - I explained it as - the color of their flag is the third color of our flag - my my he made such a strange face and burst into laughter) - that memory should have actually made me laugh, but suddenly, I felt excruciating pain. Somehow, away from everyone's eyes, I rubbed off my tears.

I have well planned agendas these days. Come back home and watch so and so movie (I am even watching stuff like Bodyguard - well Kareena and her dresses were quite good to look at) - or probably...sleep early. Something that won't make me wait for him, his calls (which I won't anyways pick up), and his subsequent sms's.

I laugh at myself and tell, let it be. It's over now. It wouldn't have worked out anyways. And yet...all that comes back in return is...aaja katena ratiya...

Today's agenda was...to write up the expenses for November. First I had to put in a lot of effort to locate the last updated expenses file in my mail box. Then after a lot of wrong versions that I downloaded, finally, when I checked the final file, it was updated till Oct 28th.

So I returned to my draft folder in the mobile, where I just note down the expenses, not the description (I guess I already mentioned this in some August entry). And the day, not the date. So 29th Oct was noted as fr 480 20. I began reluctantly, what's this 480 man - must be some dinner I had with bro. 20? Auto fare may be. But as is my habit, I wanted to remember. Which dinner? And then it came back to me. Excerpts of things he had told that day. "You are the only one I'm telling this", "Why do I tell u everything", "I can't express emotions"...everyday from the Volvo bus, I'd painfully look at the window seat at Transit and relive that day. But see, I had forgotten which day. Well, thankfully 31st October was not eventful. My iball earphone had finally stopped working so I had to buy a new one. Since there was no branded one, I got a local one for Rs 90 (which by the way stopped working last week). Apart from that, bus fare and lunch.

Then came 1st November. Curious figures. Tu 7 4 10. I was once again bowled over. This is no stone age, that bus would take 7 or 4 instead of 11. Not even 10. If I'm unable to give change, he'll keep entire 20 Rs but not take 10 :) Then what. I kept pondering, 1st November, was it a holiday? Yes of course it was, Kannada Rajyotsava. But what did I do? And then it all came back. That was probably the maddest thing I have ever done in my life. That day told me just how much I am in love with him (without any apparent reason - as the dumb head simply doesn't deserve me) - that day kind of changed me. Probably what I did last Saturday night (oh when will Saturday nights stop making me crazy?) was the culmination of what I did on November 1st. Ab tere bina Sajna Sajna Kate Katena...once again...

He's not the first man I've been with. Not the closest I've come to any man. Then why should he be allowed to cause so much turmoil in my mind. How can he make me so lifeless? This has never happened, never ever happened.

This is for him...even if we never speak to each other again...

O Humdum Bin Tere Kya Jeena?