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.