Year ends, finally...but nothing begins...

Why I love this "Bahe Naina" song to this ultimate extent, I can't say. All I can say is that once I put on this song, there is nothing else that can replace it. The next thing I can tell you is that I am at my wit's end. Never in my worst nightmare did I think that life will come to this standstill. But it has. There is nothing going on in life and frankly it looks hellish. You see, hope is the fuel that drives life, and at present, I am totally, utterly hopeless about my future.

Nothing is positive in the job front, and I am now what - around 3 months going without a salary. I am not sure what will work out - and frankly speaking I have tried everything I could. At the same time I am definitely not strong enough to go back to Bangalore and live alone. No - that very thought itself stifles me thoroughly. I still hate that city. For whatever reasons, I firmly believe that had I not been stranded in that city alone, without my parents, people could never have taken advantage of me way they did. I would rather not cause myself more misery by going back there.

But then, Kolkata also doesn't embrace me. It is a listless life here as well. At times it thoroughly chokes me up. May be it is all my problem - I can't reach out? But then you see, as I have always written here, I believe in miracles. I wait for a miracle, as it happened in O Henry's stories. And it bitterly hurts when the monotony never breaks even for once. I get scared of hoping and dreaming, and want to close my world, so that it is impermeable to future acts of injustice and ignorance to me. But then the threat that comes first and foremost in my mind is, will I live in this self imposed cocoon? How can I? As much as the heart needs fresh air to breathe, and the brain looks for fresh thought to mull over, I as a normal human being seek companionship. People to talk to, to sympathize, to reach out. Why do everyone ignore me so, why doesn't anyone give me a chance? Yes, I have my towering ego, yes, I cannot tolerate lesser beings, yes, I cannot step out and ask. But should that dry up all my chances at socializing? I don't understand why people behave in the way they do. It is a busy and strange world, since I have no particular business of mine currently, they consider me a stranger.

Those days look like a dream. When I had friends, I went out and roamed around to my heart's content, I could cry, and laugh and had friends to whom I could share my emotions and feelings. Bossie used to tell me, that it will do if you have at least one person to share your thoughts with - it shouldn't just stay in your mind. He used to be a simple person then (I don't know about him now) - and he used to understand life in his own simple way. And I used to accept his thoughts so wholeheartedly, I never questioned those ever. Now, when I reflect - I realize, finally I have reached the worst possible situation - I don't have a friend. None, except Ananya. Ananya is a person whom I will be able to tell even the most shameful tales of my life. But then, she is this busy person with her own complexities of life, and I dare not disturb her all the time.

I am a difficult girl - even my parents don't understand me. I get exasperated, shout and make a scene, since they are well habituated with my ways, they simply forgive me and ignore my agitation. I am left on my own to comfort myself - I shed incessant tears and know not what to do. Life, as it seems today is such a long and dark affair that I dare not walk on. And I wonder, I am a living, breathing, healthy soul, is there nothing I can do, that can make some difference, instead of withering away like this? I am so shy and introvert, social work is not for me. A family life would have suited best - but then, perhaps my estimate of myself is wrong. For I have always been good looking and talented enough for people to make friends with me - I don't know where I lack that people won't select me for a family life. About the corporate life where I have been successful so far - it all seems unfamiliar now. I don't know if at all I will ever be able to go back there.

Thus, I usher in the new year without a trace of expectation. All I have realized is, life is not fair to everyone - but you still have to accept it. There were this cat and two kittens who used to play in the foyer of the house next to us. Idle as I am most of the time, I gulp down on the serene visuals that my surroundings present. This being a quiet locality, you can see the cows grazing, the birds chirping and pecking at fruits in the trees, there's this papaya tree and betel nut tree in our own garden which I can't stop admiring, and then you occasionally see ducks with a speck less complexion much whiter than the cows, a long tailed blackbird whose name I don't know, some dogs and puppies and sparrows - and along with all these, there was this small cat family. Today, everything is same as before, only one kitten died suddenly. Most probably it was attacked by some bird of prey (I have seen vultures here too). Now, tell me, the cat and the other kitten, do they have anything to do about this mishap? They have to live on, everyone else will live on too - just that poor kitten had to die. May be my story is like that. Only, I don't get to die, like that poor kitten who lost its sibling, its first friend in its first formative days, and will perhaps never be able to appreciate happiness in life, I will also have to settle for a drab, merciless existence. Questions will forever remain unanswered, কেন হলনা? ভাগ্যে ছিলনা ! And the case gets closed.

The post-birthday trauma, and more...

Grief is indeed somewhat like cancer. It eats you up from within, whereas otherwise, from the outside you are well enough. And grief never comes alone, it brings along with the fear of being grieved yet another time. Since you already know well, exactly how it feels, you shudder to face it again.

Dear God, I forbid You to push me to the brink. I want not a life...it's been a while since I understood that I am not worthy of one. But at least let me exist and breathe. I have been killing all my desires anyways, do you really need to humiliate and punish me more?

And this is the time when I tell myself, I won't succumb to the pettiness of the world.

Otherwise I am fine. I am happy with my not so perfect life, and my so very perfect ego. To nurse which, I put at stake every other single thing on earth, that I seemed to possess. That's perfectly fine with me - my ego is the most extremely important thing to me.

Apparently things that are minuscule seem to hurt my ego, which has apparently battled much more significant situations. Our part time cleaning person, for example. A chance unthinking remark from that uneducated nobody has the power to take me down to deep crevices, when I can survive more lofty blows quite easily. And what did he say? He informs me happily - so and so friend of my dad, who uses his services as well, has married off both his daughter and son, and now lives free of responsibilities - all he does is to go every month and avail his pension. Does it hurt more because the blow is directed towards my dad instead of me? The good man, to protect whom I can give my life, yet all I manage to do is to prove him a failure at his social duties?

I keep remembering that scene in Life In a Metro - the scene where he teaches her to shout, when her frustrations reach the limit, and she shouts out with all her might. But that's not all. Starting right from my childhood, I remember a 1000 insignificant things. Like, a random line from one of my very first poems,
বল না পদ্ম আসছেন মা? বল না ও মোর শিউলি সই? দেখতে তাঁরে মন যে কাঁদে, দশভুজা মা আসে কই? (strange how I remember only this line, and nothing before or after!), the colorful history notes (magenta, turquoise, green, I would get all colorful pens for myself, perhaps to lessen the monotony of taking notes - but ya, I loved history as a subject). My mind becomes a warehouse of memories. I remember things like - how Anand used to love grapes, and when he'd be very hungry and unhappy, and wouldn't know what exactly he wants to eat, I'd take him to a roadside fruit vendor, and he'd finally zero down on grapes.

The last few days didn't go too well. Granny fell down and got stitches on her head - that too, all this happened at 4 in the morning. The entire ordeal at a hospital emergency is so so draining. I don't know how doctors manage to build their nerves. The birthday josh was quite dampened because of this, but otherwise went well. Birthdays are safest to be spent with parents, and parents as loving as mine make all the more difference. All wishes apart, I happened to realize how futile and short lived relationships are. Apparently most friendships are a mumbo-jumbo of buttering and give and take. And love is even more curious. For I again happened to wake up in the morning of my birthday with a dream of Boo fresh in my memory. The usual dream where he is just present in my vicinity, though he doesn't talk to me. Why, after so many days, he still matters even this much, I fail to understand.

No job yet, and as was expected, the sudden positive surge that happened last week regarding my job search, has totally died down. Driving classes are over, just the final exam for license remains, which is supposed to be held sometime next month (oops, that's next year too).

So what made me cry and be so vulnerable tonight? I am still staying up, it is going to be 3:25 in the morning. Last time I cried was because of the showdown with Deepti, that's anyways settled. She at least didn't ignore me on my birthday, though I must say she's no better otherwise. I feel at times that my only friend on earth is Ananya. She is a sister and a soul mate. What would I have ever done without her undaunted support?

So, then what? That gentleman, whom I hate to the core because of his permanent absence from my life? The one who was not supposed to leave me alone like this? The one who apparently shines like the sun and paints up the parting of my hair with vermilion, but all only in my imagination. Aah, God, as I told you, THIS is not fair. DO NOT do this to me. DO NOT try to revive me - it just kills me all the more.

I am almost scared of this particular self of mine, full of self torture and obstinacy. Sickly and soul searching for one song that'd comfort me and sympathize. Frankly, I love myself too much to see me in such a condition, barely able to breathe. Oh Mother Nature, why had you to create the female species?

Yet another entry!

How lazy can someone be? For the past few days I was continuously thinking of writing, but at the end of the day, won't find time. Don't ever think that unemployed people can't be busy. If you belong to a mad house like I do, you'd always have plenty of work to do. First it is entirely a tech non savvy house - where nobody cares for modern day banking. That precisely being the thing that earns me my bread (mind you - the interest that I earn today due to my FDs are because of that money itself) - I had to take a huge lot of trouble to transform the banking scenario of this house. And you know, in the rare occasions when I find in a certain bank and Fine Akkel screen, I feel this sudden pang, even if it is a lower version with which I hardly ever had anything to do, I feel this motherly affection towards a long lost or perhaps unborn child. It tells me, that even if in the worst case my career remains all of these 10 odd years, I'd always be proud, happy and contended about my work.
Then comes my driving classes. And Pupu Ray and all her love for a car apart - I simply don't drive well. Over that, I finally realize, that however much partial I am to the city of Calcutta, it is indeed more polluted than Bangalore. My immunity system simply couldn't fight the pollution here, and as a result I got an enormous attack of asthma last week. Had to stay up all night battling for breath, as the inhaler completely stopped acting. In the morning, went for nebulization to the hospital emergency ward, and they additionally and unnecessarily connected me to the ECG monitor. Quite a sight I looked. But the only good thing that came out of it all was that the doctor advised complete bed rest and I got 3 days off from my driving classes (good times always get over, so I have to venture out again tomorrow). Meanwhile I was getting dead frustrated with this lack of job situation. How long can an educated, healthy, unmarried female stay idle at home only with story books and newspapers to read, and computer games to play, tell me :P ?? Well, as it turns out, some days always are better than the others. In other words, some stretch of time always represent a crest, after considerable expanse of time that has been symbolic of the trough zone. So things moved a bit, some friends contacted on their own accord (my big fat ego won't allow me to contact them on my own), some mails were sent out, some applications done, some money spent for job services, some telephone calls. But mind you, still not even a hint of an interview. So, effectively nothing. And I remain as restless as ever with the BIG question, what exactly do I plan to do with the rest of my life?

In between, this new situation has come up and I feel even worse at its advent. More than worse, I feel strange. I know life and I don't trust it a bit. At the same time...it is like, my birthday is coming up, what is the harm in having 4 days of dreaming? Dreaming that things might not be that bad after all, and every cloud has a silver lining and blah and blah? Call me a coward, call me an escapist, I feel like not letting the dream go, at least for the next 4 days. And then, afterwards, again I will become my former self - which again, I have become quite accustomed to being. Till then, let me be this perfect egg, so obviously hard from the outside (until you crack it for the first time, would you ever know that it can be cracked so easily?) - revolting and fuming and so so tough, and so soft and bright and warm with hope inside, as the yolk. Poor poor Pupu Ray, such a long long life lies ahead of you...

Why do I like writing so much? And when do I write my novel, my masterpiece?

Meeting my idol!

25th November, 2013. Oh, I'd remember this date all my life. I met my greatest inspiration in person, one of those living legends who I feel has molded me into what I am today.

I was taking my driving lesson. The instructor (who, as I said, has become my friend already) hit the brake quite unnecessarily (yes, earlier, once I had driven the car into a small hillock of stone chips, but otherwise the day has been smooth so far - I was being a much lesser bundle of nerves than the day before). I knew not what has happened, and looked inquiringly. He smiled and called out - জেঠু ভালো আছেন? (Uncle, all good?) - and looked at me and said, আমার জেঠু (my uncle). Now, thoroughly bewildered about why I should be  introduced to his uncle in the middle of the class, I looked out of the window. The জেঠু who was apparently going to board a taxi, which was parked on the roadside, also peered in with a smiling countenance and appreciatively said, শিখছ (I see that you are learning). And at that very moment I got star struck for the first time in my life. Funny that an almost 80 someone can do it to you. I put my hands together in a নমস্কার,  and fanatically blabbered out - আমার কি সৌভাগ্য যে আপনার সঙ্গে দেখা হলো, আমি আপনাকে রীতিমত পুজো করি...(how blessed I feel to have met you, I literally worship you...) - he gave me yet another smile in return, and boarded the taxi. I called out, সাবধানে যাবেন - you may call it a Bengali equivalent of take care. And he went away and I started the car again.

Can't tell you after how many years I feel as if I am on seventh heaven. I called dad immediately after the classes were over, followed by a call to my brother.

Strangely enough, the day when Rituparno died, I prayed for a long time to God to keep my two other idols safe, Suman and Shirshendu. Suman, I have seen performing live long back - I was in school then. Not that I haven't met other dignitaries. Book fair is a place where you do see authors, I guess I have seen Suchitra Bhattacharya and Taslima Nasreen there. Once or twice I have seen Girish Karnad doing his morning walk, when I used to stay in Kota Manor in my early days in Bangalore. But seeing is not meeting, talking and expressing your awe and gratitude. I am so so proud and happy to have done that today. This gentleman has taught me to be imaginative, to live in a bubble and believe it to be true. As I have read each of his story, I have discovered never before kind of an innocent happiness. বনি, সোনার মেডেল, মনোজদের অদ্ভুত বাড়ি, গোঁসাইবাগানের ভূত, হেতমগড়ের গুপ্তধন - are each nothing short of a precious jewel to me. Even the last movie I watched, আশ্চর্য প্রদীপ is based on his short story (I have hardly ever read his work for the adults - however I remember borrowing this collection of short stories from some library and reading it). Actually Shirshendu is a person who keeps my childhood intact - whatever happens otherwise in the life of this forever immature girl, it is this magical childhood that helps her bounce back. There, if that is the case, then haven't I met God today?

I leave you with a BIG SMILE (oh, can she also smile?) and this wee small bit - this is not enough to understand why he is God to me - you need to read his work, you need to be a Bengali.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shirshendu_Mukhopadhyay

Gibberish from an idle brain...

Though frustrated to the core with this jobless existence, I am otherwise happy. At least it is not as bad as people had threatened me that it'd be. That neighbors and relatives would throng in and advice marriage (as early as possible, given my age) and discuss about their doubt that I must have been sacked (else, who in their right state of mind would leave a job in today's world?) Well, not that these things are not happening, but nobody dares to give me the lecture. They direct it to my parents and that too in my absence. And I have thankfully been able to train my parents to some extent, to take these criticisms in their stride.

But what about me? Am I going to stay this idle all my life? I shudder to think about that. But then, I really don't need to subject myself to the torture one more time. Society is a scare-word for me nowadays. I don't like anybody, period.

It is almost like an inner eye opening up. I can now clearly see the insecurities of everyone around me, which took me to the brink. I don't mind the fact that I finally fell weak and lost the battle. What I have done is wise enough. I needed this cocooned life to heal the wounds. But now that I am sufficiently cured, question that arises is that whether I'd allow the world to inflict pains on me one more time. Whether I go back to that lonely living in Bangalore or some other alien city, for the sake of a good job. Or whether I can settle for a lesser job here. Finally, the improbable, whether I can try and get a good enough job in Kolkata itself and lead a detached and mechanical work life and thoroughly enjoy the rest of the time with my family. As you can see, there are too many if's and but's, and frankly speaking, I am still not bold enough (and compelled enough) to take the first step. As I said, the money I am earning through interest is good enough for me. The first compulsion comes up when I see the ever increasing inflation. And come what may, I can't depend on anybody else for my sustenance, never have (except till the time dad paid up for my education, i.e. till 2003 July), and never will.

I am totally into reading these days. I am mostly reading up পরশুরাম (রাজ্ শেখর বসু ) - a satirical writer whose wonderful sense of humor poised with a very scientific thinking, makes his work an absolute treat to read. Yes, unfortunately, both keyboard and French has taken a back seat, but well, I am at least learning too drive. Which is the primary reason I do feel encouraged to look for a job, because you see, I wouldn't be able to maintain a car after all with this meager and uncertain an earning (what if banks cut down on interest rates all of a sudden?) Well, not that I am very confident about driving, but I have learnt the basics, and I have become friends with my driving teacher, who is a very simple elderly fellow, very nice and he's so confident about teaching me properly. That was the reason I wanted to come here and learn driving, frankly speaking I never could imagine myself interacting with someone in Bangalore, and showing him my vulnerability. Well, thankfully Bangalore is a distant nightmare nowadays.

Well, though I don't want to make my blog a place for settling personal scores, I can't help confessing few things. Like, way I chose not to wish my once upon a time great friend on her birthday. Because you see, she has entirely lost all her entitlement towards my friendship. She has abused our friendship. I miss the good times spent with her, but when the very foundation of our camaraderie was on the basis of her presumption that I am supposed to be her puppy dog, how could I have acted in any other, more lenient way?

The next confession, again, is about friends in general, and me and my stupidity in particular. I trust people so easily. I have written here earlier about this disgusting person whom I used to date once upon a time (some 10 years back). However this guy broke up with me on some flimsy ground, severed all ties, got married, and then all of a sudden comes back to me. I being the lonely me, accepted him as a friend, only to learn after a while that he is still in love with me. That was the time I decided I won't ever again speak to him. But then, on and off, he used to send sms's. Once in a while I'd reply back (you see, for a girl like me, who receives absolutely no communication from her friends, it is difficult to ignore some sign of care). Frankly, I am unsocial by nature, but even I was surprised with the way my so called friends behaved with me. Hardly anybody called, hardly anybody cared. Oh, life is such a busy, all consuming affair these days, who has time for others. And then, when have I helped anyone in need that I'd expect the same. Forget it, but I can tell at least a few anecdotes when I have cared and showed concern, and tried to help. But even those people didn't care to find out how I am spending my time. Given that, I shouldn't really expect anything from the rest. I am a friendless person, period. Well, coming back to the story, this guy became very excited when he heard I am coming back to Kolkata. He'd call me and speak for hours. And I'd treat him like the last straw for a sinking person, and do away with my self imposed boycott. And then thankfully, he didn't call for a while. When he called again last evening, it suddenly dawned on me, that even he is a lowly person, who's trying to use me and breach his wife's trust. I didn't pick up the call. He didn't call back, proving that my suspicion is correct, he does have some hidden agenda, and if he calls again, that'd become apparent to me. I am sorry for my weakness, I must write here, that if I happen to trust anybody so easily ever again, I would be the stupidest girl that ever existed on earth.

Talking about trust, these days I feel a thorough hatred for the person whom I trusted most. And am I scared of the photos on Facebook? His visibly ugly, long toothed wife won't stop posting their merry moments together (girl, I had no idea that someone can look so disgusting in a lehenga choli before I saw you donning one)...well seems like first diwali after marriage is a big thing. I still can't bring myself up to unfriend him, but trust me I don't have any intention of seeing their ugly photos together - or to be made aware of any more ugly addition to the family. I have stopped logging in to Facebook altogether to avoid them and their togetherness. As if that was not enough, my once beloved bossie and his family would also pop up once in a while in the news feed through some common friend (he at least is not my friend in Facebook). Anyways, though even those photos hurt, but they are no ugly, in fact, to be frank, balding or whatever, my bossie still is the cutest person on earth. His kid however has become like any other normal kid, no more that mirror image of him. Anyways, as I said, those photos are still tolerable and definitely not ugly. I don't care that Boo's wife looks ugly. Or for that matter his entire family looks ugly (that family photo in front of Taj was like - ohh what a contrast). What hurts is that my Boo looks ugly. What hurts more is that I have lost all my love for him. Even in the dreams, I don't seem to love him. I have kind of accepted the fact that he will flirt with other girls, he will hurt me, he will not care for me. Still he does come up in my dreams. I don't know why.

Once in a while, when it is time for self inflicted penance, I do log in to Facebook. What did you think? There is only one (or two) channel(s) of pain for me? My once upon a time best friend would eagerly join the queue - with his daughter's photos. Six years back, I'd be doting on his daughter. I remember, I had once made a folder of my favorite photos. Bossie's photo in orkut and his photo with his daughter, was part of that collection. So why does it hurt now? Because in the time that has since passed, I have lost all hope of a life for myself. It hurts when I find, everyone around has a life - only I was left alone for my stupidity. Girl wanted a love marriage, that too with a person who'd vouch to protect her from everything negative she had to face in life so far. See her condition now :) As I watch that so very familiar song from Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai (Yeh kaisa ladka hai) I chuckle. As I watch Mera Kuchh Samaan, I tell mom, indifferently, I never watched this movie, just heard its story - I can't go further and tell from whom I had heard - instead I ask myself, why do I remember people who have forgotten me - and over that, remember everything about them, treasure each single moment spent with them.

Don't I have any dream left in life? Frankly speaking NO. Yes I draw some pleasure from an imaginary husband, who I very well know would never be. I dream that I am being difficult with him, but he is enduring me patiently, then we become friends, then we go out together, start liking each other, and then he starts making love to me...and all such stupid girlish day dreams. Then I remember my age, the setbacks I have had, the result I have seen on trusting people, and the dreams become a self mockery.

I do have a distant dream of adopting a girl child sometime in future, may be 5-10 years hence - but then, I don't know if I can acquire the courage. What can I probably give my daughter except stories of my foolishness, stories of a totally wasted life?

Happy Diwali...

Life moves on...haltingly though, and I have nothing much to write. I get a smile on my face when I am forced to reflect, indeed, 33 is a very viable die-able age. The first Diwali I am spending with mom and dad in the last 8 years - and I don't feel much ecstatic. I miss my bro - I miss my humble Diwali celebration in Bangalore, it used to be the only day when I'd clean up the small place I have in my flat where I keep the idols of Gods, do a little bit of puja and prayers, lit the diyas and burst some crackers with my bro. At least that has been the routine in the last couple of years. When Anand used to be there, we'd celebrate Diwali in a much better way. The Diwali in Singapore was also very memorable.

These days memories keep coming back. Yesterday, ছোটমামা  visited us - met him after such a long long time. I clearly remembered my childhood days, when ছোটমামা was less of a guardian and more of a protective elder brother - glimpses came back of ছোটমামা doing his morning jog in speck less white shorts and T shirt, he making egg roll in the Durga Puja stall and he telling me not to wear lipstick till I get older (I used to steal and wear mom's red lipstick when I was a kid - now that I have grown up, I have no use for loud make up anymore). Well, time changes, ছোটমামা is now a bald headed man with white beard :( - me too would grow old like him sooner than later.

Yet to put my financials in place, but I have opted for some MIS (that's Monthly Income Scheme for people who don't know or don't need to worry about these things) - which should suffice as my pocket money. But is this what life is going to be from now till the end? I wonder. I had got an invitation for Australia tour - but I backtracked thinking about the expenses - and also because I have become lazy these days - being inside the four walls of my room gives me a kind of safety and stability - which makes the outside world seem even more alien.

Midnight, the "শব্দ বাজি" noise has died down, and this is all I remember. I log on to youtube and sink in the song. Why do I love it so much?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IYbUhSxNZ0A

Happy Diwali in advance to one and all - God bless :)

After the "Retirement"

It's been a long long time since I have written here. I know that. The last couple of weeks have been fleeting images of void. Void that would creep in every now and then, but wouldn't last enough to hurt me. It is but natural, given that a very integral part of my life, my career, has completely gone missing. It looks very much like last puja holidays - when I had stayed home from 18th October to 5th November. But then I had to go back and face the world again. This time there is no compulsion. I am as free as one can be. I actually personalize freedom these days. I do what I wish to do. I run my own empire. I don't have to do anything that I dislike...anything that causes me any discomfort whatsoever. That choking feeling whenever I'd be forced to accept or comply with something I could never agree with, is gone totally. Life is pleasant. I play my keyboard, I read story books, I talk for hours with my parents and grandma, I pamper my brother (he however left for Bangalore today, so henceforth I will miss him till he comes back four months later) - and time just moves on. I have however lost a lot in the course of time. E.g. in the history of my famed fondness for Durga Puja, it has never been so (except the one time I was in Prague and couldn't attend a Puja) - that I haven't given pushpanjali on all 4 days. This time, I went only on Mahashtami day - I felt reluctant on all other days. Have I lost my faith in the Goddess? May be not, it is just that - after having lost so much in life, I don't have anything much to ask for - I have become indifferent.

However, I don't suffer from depression anymore. That's very much evident to me. I take time to deck myself up and look my best. I don't mind much when people pass pinching remarks (which girl in the neighborhood who's like 4-5 years younger than me just got a new kid etc. etc.). Some people, I don't know with what intention, give advice I have never sought from them - viz. old age is a scary thing, you'll become very lonely, so please get married. I want to give them a piece of my mind, but then they are elderly people. If they pity me, let them. I can't change other people. I have finally accepted that. So I just nod, smile and get out of their way. Thanks but no thanks. One of my favorite kiddos, from the engineering college where I used to teach, is going through a separation. She is the girl I might have told you about, who came all the way from her hometown, which was in another state, to meet me after I resigned from the college to join my previous company at Mysore. She hasn't missed wishing me happy teacher's day on a single occasion ever since then, on 5th September every year. She gives me the realization that I have been successful at everything I have done, even if it was teaching for 5 months only. Such a gem of a girl, who knows how to maintain relationships, how can she be forced to go through such a painful thing as separation after 3.5 years of married life? I really won't like to try my hand at such a lopsided thing as marriage then. In God's world, I guess nothing is fair.

But I no more get upset at the thought of a lonely life. Oh how I enjoy my loneliness. I seem to have enough money to support myself. I am proud of the way I have planned my financials. There is no imminent danger of poverty. As I said earlier, the only trouble is the on and off sense of boredom - so I have decided to look for a job - though it would take a substantial toll on my ego to go for a job that'd pay lesser than my last drawn salary, but then money is not the factor, it'd at least keep me occupied. For the time being though, I have lots of things to keep me occupied. My self taught key board lessons are on. On the window sill behind the headboard of my bed, I have arranged the few books I managed to bring, all the toys, dolls et al that used to adorn my bedside table in Bangalore, why, I even managed to bring Appu and Neelu, though I had to pay some excess baggage fee this time :) In fact I had to literally coax the Air India personnel who helped with my check in - solemnly admitting, "look I am moving out of Bangalore permanently, so I really couldn't cut down on the luggage" - and decreased the fine by half. By the way, travelling by Air India was amazing. The food, the service and the in flight entertainment, everything kind of exceeded expectation. Why do the Indian media always demote and never promote good things in the country? Same is applicable about Kolkata airport - never read a single article about just how amazing the Kolkata airport is - to me it seems to be of the same standard as Changi airport.

Well, given the immense choice of in flight entertainment in the Air India flight, (to tell you the truth, I thought so far, that none of the domestic airlines provide any) - I finally settled for a old black and white Hindi movie called Ek Phool Char Maali, starring Sunil Dutt and Waheeda Rehman. Frankly speaking the sheer good looks of the leading pair mesmerized me - you'd hardly find anyone so beautiful in the modern generation of stars. And after a while I realized to my utter awe - OMG is this not the same story as Dulhan Hum Le Jayenge? Never knew that one is a remake. I tell you, it was one of the most memorable flights I have had - what with the piping hot sambhar they served with the dosa, the smooth take off and landing, and then discovering a smiling photo of Netaji in the airport (I never imagined that Netaji would look so different with the smile on his face).

So back home, I continue being happy. And totally, thoroughly independent. I keep my premises speck less clean. I'd never let my room assume a similar look as my Bangalore house. I even regularly clean the toilet. Oh the bed is so clean and comfortable, and I can sleep as long as I want (though I never overdo it). Food is amazing man - there is not a single moment when I feel - I wish I had better food. Rather I always keep feeling, oh what trash I used to eat in Bangalore and spend so much money on it - who will not give away everything for homemade food.

So far, homecoming has been an absolute boon. I have finally gotten rid of my major weakness - that I could never stop loving the people I have loved once - whatever they have turned into afterwards couldn't change that feeling. Now I ruthlessly hate them, but don't let that hatred trouble me. I know now that they are worth nothing in my life, I hate them for having ruined my life in every way possible, but then, I am thankful that finally I have done something to make myself happy. A happiness those monsters can't do anything to snatch away from me. So I become indifferent to them, and enjoy my time at home. I just hope that I get some job here, any job that makes me sustain this happiness. But for now, I'd rather be shielded from this big bad world for some more time. And enjoy my "ME" time :)

P.S. - I finished Diamond Rush - all 99 red diamonds I got - it was SO MUCH FUN :) :)

The first day of freedom :)

How does it feel? Usual...and not at all dismal. In fact I am kinda enjoying it thoroughly...without any apparent reason. After all I am jobless...I should be worried right? But I simply feel great. The six roses (3 white and 3 red) that a kiddo from office gifted me - stare up at me and instantly freshen me up. Skeptical people are worried already with "What Now" syndrome...people ping me and ask...with lotta concern - ohh...so what have you planned - and get even more surprised when I say "Nothing!".
People who feel Kolkata is a dead city - I shall prove to them that it is not. I shall be so happy there as this so called happening city Bangalore could never give me.

I don't have grudges anymore. I do know the reasons though. Why I had to take this step, who all made me take this step. I am glad that I haven't forgiven, and I haven't been a puppet at their hands, way they wished. Frankly speaking, while I was reading Who Moved My Cheese? today, I realized that it was the right decision. There was no cheese left for me in this organization and in this city as well. It is high time I had moved with my cheese :)

Didn't do anything much today. Way earlier in my difficult times Harry Potter and the Twilight Series had helped, likewise I am addicted to diamond rush nowadays. Have completed Angkor Wat and Bavaria...Siberia though looks a little difficult.

This is me :) And the only thing I am grateful for is the love I have received throughout my professional tenure - from the students, from the team mates and colleagues, from the trainees, from the seniors. Even from the people I have interviewed. Because you know...I have always been so so transparent in my life. I have never ever pretended. Nor will I ever do so in the future...

One last bit to write. The morning brought back very intense memories of me and Boo. Now, the mention of his name doesn't bring tears, I can take his name and talk normally...as one talks about a friend. But then...the memories simply don't go. He had loved me so intensely, if that was drama...I really don't know if there is anything real on this earth. I can still live every moment I spent with him - as if time has gotten stuck in some air pocket and won't move. I didn't just lose my love no...I lost my best friend, I lost my soul mate...the person who knows me best...after myself. Boo...I miss you...that day, when you left, I couldn't tell you - I shall always wait for that coffee date we had planned to have when we'd be in our nineties. Please do away with other beings like your long toothed wife and your lady love(s), I really will pour the coffee on your head if you continue to show interest towards other girls even then...kick you man...but love you still :)

All set to welcome freedom...

The two days in the weekend were spent patiently taking back up. All these 8+ years I have acquired so much of unnecessary belongings, that I am unable to trace most of the things I'd need at the moment. E.g. hard disk. Though I had enough space in my new hard disk to take back up of all the data I had piled up here since 2010, still I was looking for my previous hard disk and couldn't find it. All this while I had this assumption that I have kept it in a certain brown bag of mine, so today when I opened it, I could find a hundred other things, like piano and french tutorials (all stupid stuff I had got from Singapore) - but not the hard disk. God knows where I have kept it.

I look longingly at my books. God knows when I can take all of them back to Calcutta. As it is, I am scared to take Appu, Neelu and Pink Pong in a suitcase, and I am not even thinking about my clothes. How is it humanly possible to take two cupboards full of clothes and 3 bookshelves full of books I don't know. I laugh away at the 15 kg luggage limit in Air India flight by which I am scheduled to go.

I don't feel emotional anymore. I couldn't survive in this place anyways. It is a good decision I have taken. I have never compromised in life - never ever. Perhaps I shall hold some kinda grievance against the people who rule this place and have undermined me so much so that I was forced to do away with my career. Because call it a stupid ideology, but I need my ego or self realization to exist with pride. And I do not know of an existence without my self respect. So, to hell with this hell hole that refused to give me my due credibility.

I have one huge advantage you know? I have very little demand from life. Next to nil, you may say. I don't live lavishly. I don't even have an air conditioner or car at my home. I shy away from buying any clothes that would exceed Rs 1000/- in its price tag. In fact my ideal buy would range from 200 to 600 Rs, funny as it may sound. My only expenses are for books, and books are not very expensive you know. They are not yet considered luxury items. It is ok, I tell myself. We shall manage. Anyways we have to manage. For decision, once taken, shouldn't be reversed if you want your words to have some weight. And it was time enough that I took a break. I have tortured myself in every possible sense of the term. Psychologically and physically.

There was a forced kinda party last Friday evening - which I yielded to, because it doesn't make sense to be miserly or arrogant. I spent the evening with a crowd of people, most of whom I hardly know and hardly like, and spent a straight 10K on them. I have never taken out my parents for such a lavish dinner. I felt bad about how this Bangalore city and its people disrespect money. But then, what's in 10K. Money is like water, it keeps flowing - you can't stop it. Somebody in the party said - I'm sure you have never enjoyed this much. I gave a polite smile and simply said - I have, much more than this. What do they think? Since I am a spinster of 33, they feel my entire life has been this boring? All evening, I kept sipping my beer (I guess I was having beer for the last time in a long time to come) - and relived all the wonderful moments. Starting from the Mysore days (rain dance in GRS water park) - the walks with Anand in MG Road and Brigade Road, when we were just getting to know each other, perhaps the only time we didn't have any grudge against each other, to the wonderful time with Boo, my various on sites, the adventures and misadventures, the...what do they call it? rappelling I guess - then sledging, water scooter, some free fall kinda thing - have done them all. I have lived life man - in every sense of the term. But then, after everything else, I realized that except my immediate family members, there's nobody who cares. So I also don't care for anybody.

So that's that. Forgot to clear the internet history of my official laptop (I have 2 by the way - one dabba lappy, one rental one which is much better in performance). I would never delete the history in the dabba one. Boo used it often - till the time we were on speaking terms (yes, even after his engagement) - clearing that history would seem to me like severing our last tie. I am such a stupid girl no? Tomorrow the machine might anyways get formatted. I keep missing my copy of Unaccustomed Earth - it was the hardbound copy I got on the day the book was released in India - I had given it to Boo - he never gave it back. I miss it very very much. I miss the angel like kiddo of my friend, she did ask me to come and meet him once on Friday, but then...I don't know these days what's formality and what's from the heart. My voice went to that so called liquid frequency, because that kid is someone I have loved selflessly - if God would give me the power I'd shield him from every bitterness that this world has to offer. I could picture myself looking at his photos and seeing him grow up - but I decided not to go and meet him and make myself weaker.

I go away from this city with empty hands. 2005 January, I had set off from home fresh with such multitude of aspirations. 2013 October, I go with an empty heart and mind. Life has zombied me in this span of time. I am not even in a position to predict how I will be 5 years hence. I can just see myself in the coming couple of months. Learning to drive, learning to play the keyboard, getting a good configuration laptop for myself - where I'd continue learning things I always wanted to learn - and happily reading books. That's about it. I know that God will be with me...in whatever I do, and wherever I go.

Life and its lessons...

The last couple of days have been trying and exhausting, if nothing else. Jet lag and the confusion and mismanagement at Mumbai airport apart, I was quite quite shaken by meeting this lady who had lost her mother and was flying back to Bangalore for the last rites. I tried to just comfort her in whatever way I could, but her agony and blankness gave me such a turmoil...I am still thinking about her and praying for her. She kept on saying that I was like an angel who came to give her strength, even now she messaged me on Facebook and said the same thing - but how can I tell her that perhaps she has acted as the real angel - who removed my last bit of doubt about my decision of leaving everything and going home. Perhaps it was God's own way of telling me that I was doing right.

Anyways now the news is spilled to the client also, so the things are kind of closed. And I had kind of come to a decision, when I could think a lot during the last couple of weeks stay in Bahrain. There is no point torturing myself in a place that badly hurts my ego. Finally you know, I have come to terms with the give and take policy of the world, i.e. I have learnt not to be a slave anymore. Not to keep giving when I get nothing. I know my world will become empty without my job, I will be a very pensive girl, but fact remains that I am equally unhappy now as well - so why not walk a different path? And I have realized something more - when you have adequate perseverance, every bad thing finally comes to an end - it was a very big mistake to force myself to stay on in this place for so long - and since last July it has been absolutely choking. Thank God it is going to end up soon.

The last day in Bahrain was fun though. I finally came out of my budgeted existence and did a lot of shopping. As I shopped for the four most important people of my life (dad, mom, bro and gran) - I couldn't but remember the fifth person. Bahrain, and this flight itinerary always reminds me of him. Can't really believe that just a year back we used to coexist in such a harmonious way, being integral part of each other's life - even now there are people in the office who fondly remember him and tell me, you and he were two real friends I got in this office. There must be something good about him that people talk about him in this way? I try not to have anything to do with my Boo - but then, I still don't get the answer to why he had to play with my life and my emotions, when he knew that I was already as hurt as someone could be in love, and that he won't really be able to make any difference? I am a girl who has seen things escaping from her every now and then, I felt I'd die without my bossie, I live, I have seen death of some of my most favorite people on earth, I live, I saw my Boo walk out of the same office where we had met for the first time, I knew I will never meet him again, I live - come what may, I will live. I know I am being delirious now, but just remembered watching Hector die in the movie Troy - so what, does anyone respect him any less because he lost a duel and died?

Uprooting, sapling, and an one off crazy breakdown...

The last day before uprooting is always the most difficult. I HATE being uprooted, and that's what has been happening with me time and again. I don't remember facing this problem before my Singapore days. I never never never wanted to leave Singapore and come back. I can't forget the heartbreak I suffered on that day. I lost all my happiness, every bit of it. Oh just how contended I was living there - I never ever wanted that to change.

Since then I have felt the pangs time and again. Each time I left Bangalore and went to Kolkata. Each time I left my parents, granny and my own little mansion and came back to Bangalore. Each time I had to travel abroad. Each time I had to return from abroad. Setting up a place for 2-3 months, getting yourself accustomed to your surroundings, and then suddenly everything changes. There is no permanence. As if I am having this curse on myself - "no you can't have your own heaven on earth, that heaven will always be destroyed".

So many times I have cried on my way. In the train, in the bus, in the metro. The pain was so intolerable. I especially remember way I cried in the MRT on the last day I was coming back from office to my home in Tampines. One more time I remember is when I was going home for that proposal from that Egypt guy, and my bossie decided to turn up in Bangalore on that very day. Oh how I cried. Why do I need to cry like this?

I hate changing homes, ok? Except perhaps my Bangalore home, I have no attachment to it whatsoever, if anything, I am attached to the books, to Appu and Neelu, to my music thingies. But apart from that, every place I have stayed in, including hotel rooms, I have liked them, kept them clean and maintained them as if they are my own. I hate being shifted around.

And to think - I am depressed thinking that this shifting around won't be there after a week's time from now.

তোর  কথা খুব মনে পড়ে।  আজকাল যেন সবসময় মনে পড়ে, বুঝিনা কেন।  এখানে  তোর কথা লিখেছি কিন্তু মন খুলে লিখতে পারিনি...কিসের লজ্জায় জানিনা।  ঠিক যে লজ্জায় আমি তোর সঙ্গে কথা বলতে পারিনা? তোর সঙ্গে নতুন করে কিকরে সম্পর্ক স্থাপন করতে হয় আমি জানিনা। নয়তো তোকে অনলাইন দেখি, তুই আমার  ফেসবুক এ আছিস, আমি তো চাইলেই তোর সঙ্গে কথা বলতে পারি, তাই না? আসলে কি জানিস ঋত,  সেই দিনগুলোর কথা মনে পরে যখন কিছু বলতে লাগত না, তুই বুঝতে পারতিস।  You used to be my soul mate right, you'd simply know what's going on in  my mind. Now you don't, you are somebody else. Like everyone else, you are also so so far away from me. Only the lady who's given me birth, she's the only one who has that heart's connection left. She realizes what I am going through, without my telling. তুই? তুই এখন অনেক দুরের মানুষ।  কি করব জেনে বা বুঝে যে তোকে এখনো ভালবাসি? তাতে আমার একাকিত্বের কোনো হের ফের হবে না।  আমি ভীষণ একা ঋত, কিন্তু আমি এত বেশি জেদী, সাধারণ মানুষ ডুবে যাবার আগে শেষ কুটোটা ধরে ভেসে থাকে, আমি ঠিক করেছি, অমন তুচ্ছ একটা জিনিস আঁকড়ে থাকব না, দেখব জিনিসটা ছেড়ে দিলে কি হয়? মরি কি না? মন খারাপ হলে মাতৃভাষা বলতে ইচ্ছে হয় জানিস তো? আর প্রিয় বন্ধুর পাশে বসে অনর্গল বক বক করতে ইচ্ছে হয়...হয়ত তাই করছি...
আমার কোনো প্রিয় বন্ধু নেই জানিস তো? কেউ আমাকে বোঝেই না? আর আমার দোষ, কারো সঙ্গে সামাজিকতা করতে ভালো লাগেনা।  কিন্তু তুই তো এককালে ছিলিস, আর যখন ছিলিস, তখন কোনদিন ভাবিনি এরকম একটা দিন আসবে, যখন বিদেশ বিভুয়ে একা ঘরে মন খারাপ করে কাঁদতে কাঁদতে তোকে উদ্দেশ্য করে ব্লগ লিখব :) তুই ভালো থাকিস, আমি গত আট বছরে নিজেকে প্রচুর ধ্বংস করেছি, শেষ কোপ টাও মারতে চলেছি খুব শিগগির।  that's it. এখানে খুব কষ্ট করে বাংলা লিখতে হয়, আরব দেশ তো, transliteration doesn't work by default in  the browser - চল টাটা :) You didn't feel I am seeking your pity by writing all this right? I want to go back to my childhood, when I'd heard the first songs of Suman. I want to go back to my college days, when I first met you. I still have that impression in my mind, live and animated, of you climbing up the college staircase in a swift motion - much like the photographs in Harry Potter. I don't wanna bother you, just তুই যে বলেছিলি, আমি চাকরি ধরব আর ছাড়ব, I had protested then. That time I had a nice vision in my mind of getting married immediately after college, with a rich person preferably, so that I can buy plenty of story books with his money, and spend my life reading them. Well, I haven't been doing anything much different, except that now it seems, that story books are not sufficient. I know that reading Frankenstein when you are living alone in a room in an alien country is not a good idea, but I am going crazy here. Please tell me that this won't destroy me. Because the hurt ego that is caused everyday otherwise, is actually destroying me.

You know what I dreamed that night? That I have gone to Ireland, for office work, and I am meeting you there, you have discovered some Bengali hotel there and having your lunch. I must be so crazy. I haven't packed yet. I am panic stricken, I just want everything to be all right. You remember that letter I wrote to you about our love being the sapling that both of us didn't care for at the same time, and it died....you know what, it is still alive somewhere inside me - and now in my not so good days, it is what keeps me alive :)

Ode to my best friend - the real one :)

For once I am going to write something different. Because of last night's dream. That left such a sweet taste in my mouth, it still lingers.

I am able to remember my dreams these days. Distinctly and clearly. And that way, I can facilitate being my perfect guinea pig. I can analyze what actually is going on in my mind. How I am feeling. What I actually want in my subconscious. And if I am going in the right direction, i.e. whatever I am doing for myself, I am doing it right.

I can't describe the dream. For the simple reason that I feel shy. I didn't know that one evening's shyness when he had touched my cheek to have a look at my earring, remains so deep rooted in my mind. That navy blue color of his shirt, that walk together we had in the rain, when we were coming back after having watched our first and only movie together, that feeling of intense oneness as we walked on in the so called cultural center of Kolkata, overlooking vast stretches of greenery, along with the urge I have of going back to my city, mingles up and creates a strange nostalgia. And in my dream I end up being in yet another new country. Clumsy and unsmart as usual, I kind of embarrass my colleagues until I very unexpectedly discover him, having his lunch alone. I think in my mind that of all places, this is a place where I'd have least expected to meet him, but for him, he is unperturbed. He never worried about me much, he had always accepted me the way I am. He is never romantic in the dream, just natural. Romance surges through me, kind of washes me over. I can feel my feet trembling. I am unsteady and drop my food, and everyone else around laughs. He ignores. As I said, he's habituated with me.  And I also don't feel stupid with him. I can ask him whatever is there in my mind. Things like "don't you get lost in your house? It is so complicated" (to which he'd answer, no I am used to it from when I was born) or "don't you get afraid when you walk on these roads? Houses are so old here, they are almost bending down, they can fall anytime" (he'd simply say - they haven't fallen yet).

I am painfully aware of the truth all along. I am in my senses throughout the dream. I know he no more belongs to me, I know we haven't talked for ages. I know his being there doesn't help decrease my loneliness, because we have different lives. Knowing everything, I just live in the moment, I just bask in the glory of being with him, way I used to do when we were young. I have always been so so proud of him. I don't want him to call me home, to introduce me to his family, this little time with him, sitting beside him and having lunch, in an unknown foreign country (I incidentally remember which country - a country I have never been to, and never dreamed of being to - a country I was not even sure is part of EU or UK - but all the same it seemed familiar with its cobbled roads and all) - that was happiness enough for me.

I had written last time about good memories. If I think back, I have the best memories of my life with him. Every memory with him is good, except perhaps a couple - his habit of hanging up the phone abruptly and my going on talking as if he's still there, and the last harsh remark he had made when we had our last phone call, that I am getting intolerable. But that doesn't hurt me anymore. Things actually went very wrong because of the choices I had made, may be in his wisdom, he'd have seen the result right then. I don't know. I don't know. All I can think of is, if we hadn't been such kids then, if we were guided properly, we could have had a very nice life together. Or who knows, it also might have gone wrong. In life, you can never say. He certainly had some habit which I didn't like, only because of my hero worship of him, I ignored them.

As I said, I don't want to analyze. I just keep enjoying that sweetness the dream left. And I realize, this is the only thing that can make me happy. Being with someone who loves me, who knows me and accepts me the way I am, and who lets me go free without clipping my wings. And I realize something else too. He'll be there forever in my heart, wherever further away he might be physically. Actually it is better that he never comes near me, I am too much overwhelmed by his presence. Like a maiden freshly in love....

Ha ha, you know what, now it seems funny, but when I wrote the last entry, I was devastated. I cried for an hour, and went to sleep without food. It was all a result of that last day mail being sent to HR - which was such a clear indication that my career is about to end. My career, the only thing I had - as a substitute for a normal life. And all the time I kept taking his name and complaining to him - "...you said I have to have a career, you said I can leave a job only to take up another, you said...you said..."

See, that's it...I love him so so much...that I go crimson at the very mention of his name...I...I can take his name, but I can't write it here...I...I am at a loss for words...

Awaiting 30th September...

Life is going to be simple and uneventful soon enough. I still doubt my decision, but have chosen to go ahead with it. So this site is there... www.virtualpiano.net which has become a kind of bliss for me.

I log in on whichever day I am having a little less work load, and happily play all the tunes I have learnt so far - which inclues twinkle twinkle little star, লাল ঝুঁটি কাকাতুয়া, সখী ভাবনা কাহারে  বলে, আলো আমার আলো, and Bach Minuet. Mostly আলো আমার আলো, I was never addicted so much to the song as I am to the tune.

Bahrain is usual, as it is, it is not a very happening place, and I am in a usual routine of work and home and more work and more cheese. Cheese and bread has been my dinner for around 4 days now, one more day and I will start despising even an ethereal thing like cheese :D - not to add the routine breakfast of cornflakes, milk and nutella. I am preparing wonderful homemade ice cream though, with milk, sugar and nutella. Besides got some eggs, which I need to finish up (do I need more protein? God help me). You should see me hogging down lunch at the client bank canteen. Shows that I still remain a major foodie, though I am now a long long long distance away from you. As it is they prepare excellent food, of all different varieties, and another reason is, that is the only proper meal I get in the whole day. As usual, nobody likes Pupu Ray, so, Pupu Ray likes nobody, she has also chosen a lonely existence, and lonely dinners and now almost welcomes it.

Bigg Boss Bangla got over. Konee didn't win, though I supported her quite a bit. I could identify with her in some ways. A stubborn, foolish being - who ends up despising the world without wishing much harm to it, solely because the world has been so unfair to her. I have to live life my own way now - yes I'd have been happier if I had a job to tag along - but if it is not to be, let it not be. I can't compromise anymore and let everyone take advantage of me.

The dreams trouble me you know. I don't understand head or tail of my dreams. I am such a loner in reality, and in my dreams everybody would be there. Mom, dad, friends, didis and aunties streaming in the house, and somewhere a pang, somebody comes and informs me, did you see, your Boo has packed his suitcase, he's all set to go. I'd give painful looks his way, as he would stand in the corner of the room, ready with suitcase, about to leave, whereas rest of the room is so full of laughing and chatting people, as if some celebration is going on. Oh, none of them understand my agony, my splitting apart with witnessing him about to go away forever - except perhaps he himself, a person who'd never change his decision. Why on earth do I have such dreams?

I heard this song in Bigg Boss Bangla for the first time - আহা উত্তাপ কত সুন্দর তুই থার্মোমিটারে মাপলে - and discovered that it had been there all the time in my mobile, perhaps as a result of some random bluetooth download, and I never listened to it because it was called চল রাস্তায় and I assumed for reasons unknown that it is a song by নচিকেতা :( Me and my whims.

I am an imaginative girl ok? I love picturing things. This single line wanted to evoke in my mind images of a lover caring for me when I have fever. Didn't remotely find any such memory. What I remembered was something that made me loathe myself all the more - once I was having an asthma attack and couldn't go to office, and Anand also chose to stay back. All that was good only, but Anand being Anand, he'd never get rid of his animal instincts, so as you can guess, it is not exactly love that he showed, though his intention was to probably take care of me. I keep remembering few things, Anand once told me, he doesn't have a single good memory about us. You can't imagine the heartbreak it causes every time I remember it. A girl who has decidedly given her life to love and worship her man and give her whole existence for him, has nothing left in her, when she's told she's not able to create a single happy moment with him. I realize the reason today - reason is that I never loved Anand, I just accepted him because that'd make him happy. Because you know, if you love someone it can never get this wrong. I still have good memories of bossie, and about Boo, why every night I fall asleep, I feel as if I am sleeping in his arms. Whatever it is, the song mesmerizes me...
তবু বারে বারে তোকে ডাক দি, একি উপহার নাকি শাস্তি, আমি ভুলে যাই কাকে চাইতাম, আর তুই কাকে ভালোবাসতি। আমার কান্না পায়ে, তবু চোখ দিয়ে জল পরেনা আর, নিজেকে বোঝাই, আমার ভাগ্যটাই এমনি, ভালো জিনিস গুলো শুধু চলেই যায়, কোনদিন ফিরে আসেনা আর...
That's ok. I am tired of pretending anyways. I can't live in this world of falsehood. Where you pretend to be what you are not. I am not a fucking Banking Consultant, I never in my entire life have ever wished to make a career in banking. I am not a tech savvy person. If I like anything, I like reading books, like cooking, like being with myself and I like music and arts to some extent. That's it, that's me. I have no talent whatever in anything, only I am good in everything I do. But yes, only because I am good, and I like working, and in this fucking life nothing else is left except work, doesn't mean I will do it for peanuts and live without my parents. I am not a fucking A - well sorry about the cursing :) Does blogger blog such posts? I had written to Boo one stupid mail once - I was half afraid that google might block it and not let him read it. It goes like this:

you know how it is - I don't know why you find it to be sweet...
you keep saying...why you show sweetness...
If I write goodnight mail...it becomes sweet...
If I ask for a kissy...becomes sweet...
and ya...point...if not sweet...then irritating...
I ask for I love u...irritating...
I ask for smile....irritating...
see the fun...sending mail is also wrong...asking for mail is also wrong...
all we r supposed to do....is to seriously and religiously chat about THE GREAT BONG....

FUCK U and U GO AND FUCK UR BONG :@ :@

and man...simple thing u don't understand...very simple thing...
I walk around...I listen to music...watch tv....watch movies...I just work with concentration...man u r like my prince...u just come along...u r always there...
uff...baba....it is u who spoils me...I m this grown up girl otherwise...
u spoil me...u make me become a kid...ask for this thing and that....and refuse to be refused...I become this ziddi kid...never going to give up...
and then u only scold me....n I am sad...that feels so good too...
I feel flexible with u...u can change me...command me...kiss me and kill me...
you are my Othello...I am poor Desdemona...will accept everything...

will tell you one secret today...and once u read it u r supposed to forget it ok? fully forget it and never mention it again...

I once wrote in my diary....
What is life without love? And what is love when your man doesn't possess you completely? I can be with a sex maniac, Hitler of a guy who hits me every night...but I should be his world....his entire world....

I am like that....I would never give in to anyone lesser.... :)
now don't hit me in the night ok? that too u have done....and I actually liked that too....

man it is like...the great me....she is humbled by this nobody? She is like...ok boo boo...sorry boo boo...man I don't bend down before anyone...ANYONE....and you know it very well....

how did u do it? it is like...crap...crazy fellow...I shall never ever talk to him again....kick his balls....and 5 min....lemme minimize citrix window n check if he replied back...
man how do u do it? just how? 

Boo...I don't know if our relationship will last...I really don't know....but...I don't want to bend down....in front of you....in front of anybody....but...something makes me look at you with desire and come back to you every time...I hate you at times...absolutely hate you....at other times I am like....what an idiot I have loved (the other day I checked your linkedin profile and was like yuck yuck...can there be a greater moron on earth?) Then what is it that brings me back to you? Why after every 15 min (15 min at max) I will have to...have to...and must remember you despite all my anger...

I don't know....it is a big mail...I'd be rather happy if u don't read it....

you are like beer to me boo...intoxicating...takes away me and my idiot stupid life and ego from myself...I am blank....and serene...and only with you :)

Tell me how you'd feel when this guy, this guy who was my everything, goes and marries an emaciated long toothed girl from nowhere and completely abandons me. Tell me why on earth someone should love to this extent and then suffer this much? Is there anything left in my life? I just give up, give up and give up.

My parents always had great dreams with me. As is common with the Bengali parents of the previous generation, they literally starved to bring us up like royal beings. And what have I given them back? I just return to them like a dead body. And you know what, my parents are the only people on earth, who will handle even that, and still be proud of me and love me - they will never abandon me or take advantage.

And on a lighter note, if blogger doesn't block it, this article will forever stay public, to tell how difficult life can get. I don't trust anybody. I simply can't. The other day this guy came to my room, he takes care of this apartment complex where I am staying. Said he is from Bangladesh and I look like his sister. The next day he again came and got me some fruits. I kind of purposefully misbehaved with him because I don't like anyone showing any affection to me. And here I pine away for love. And I know I am not the only person who suffers like this. This is what happens to you when you are born a human and won't agree to comply with the usual ways of the world.

P.S. - Blogger Stats now shows 10000+ hits to my blog. Have been waiting for this for a long time - though nothing much to achieve in a 6 years existence, but still proof enough that some people read it :) Thanks to my readers - you have no idea what a void you fill up :)

Say Cheese :)

I have realized something. I love cheese. Every time I come onsite I live on cheese literally. In Prague it was this Mascarpone thingy, here it is one particular type I am having from my last visit in Bahrain. Licking on a spoonful of cheese gives me the ultimate pleasure, even much much more than having ice cream. This reminds me, I can make some ice cream at home. Can use up the sugar also that way.

Did you just mumble under your breath that I am fat and greedy? Doesn't help. I am well aware of my vices. This is my last onsite after all. If I don't indulge myself now, when do I do that?

I was a 100 times thankful that I didn't write when I actually wanted to write. It was a huge emotional turmoil - and a lot of drama, more drama than I could imagine. And once again I was fooled by him, I literally felt that may be vestiges of that love still remains within him. After the drama and all, after he had left the office, I cried a lot. I even tried to turn to my so called friend so as to heal the immense wound. Yes she was there for the time being, but soon enough I realized that there's no point trying this. Our friendship is lost forever. So again I cocooned up.

So what exactly happened? Ha ha, who doesn't want spice in life, nahi? When you are separating from your once upon a time lover forever, the farewell story is usually plenty of spice, and people like it - else Bollywood movies wouldn't have been such big hits. But only in my case, I have not felt like speaking to him in quite a long time. So, just when it is time for him to leave office, last day mail and all having been sent, this guy walks up to my desk and maintains a foot of distance and starts talking. He introduces himself. "Hi, I am so-n-so, today is my last day in so-n-so, so just wanted to say thank you." The same way he had walked up to my desk and introduced himself some 3 years back. I remained silent for a while, then couldn't take it anymore. Just blurted out in frustration, "why do you need to do this?". He got his golden chance, the foot became a couple of inches, and after a while of playing around with the things on my desk, he extended his precious hand for a handshake. Don't get me wrong, but for a while I lost my mind. I gave him my hand, he shook it and walked away. In a choking voice I said, "take care...". Without turning back, he said, "Sure, you too."

That night, and a few more days that followed, I could genuinely love him once again. Way I use to curse myself for choosing a non deserving person, and letting him ruin my life, was gone for a bit. The softer emotions returned. Till he posted the Taj photos in Facebook.

No, this time I didn't feel the pangs of envy that I usually feel. Instead I laughed aloud in pure relief. He is dead. Nothing, that belonged to the person I had loved, is a part of him anymore. He has lost his looks, his dressing sense, his poise, his confidence. It is just merely a pretension that envelopes him these days. I literally was having pity on him. Ugliness defines him and his surroundings these days. He got left nothing beautiful about him.

Grape is sour syndrome? It came to my mind as well. But still I couldn't stop congratulating myself for having avoided getting associated with such a person. After all, I am a worshiper of beauty, have been so forever in life. Just realized that when you do away with truth, all your beauty goes naturally.

So last onsite - some 10 more days. And then independence. I will survive I guess. So long then...

Culmination...

It is worsening with every passing day. They do say that the hours before dawn are the darkest. Don't know if that's the best way to describe this situation. For you see, I am really not sure if what is approaching can really be treated as dawn. Haven't been without a job in the last 10 years. Really don't know if retirement is gonna be that good an idea.

Having said that, what other option do I have? I absolutely despise this life. This life of waking up in the morning, somehow making myself presentable enough to step out in the outside world, then the usual routine of coaxing the autowallahs, reaching office and finding some work, spending the day, coming back dog tired in the evening and then having something to eat and sleeping off. If I at all enjoy anything amid this, it'd be the little bit of reading I do before I doze of (I am reading 'And The Mountains Echoed' by Khaled Hosseini now, just finished 'To Kill A Mockingbird') and of course this Big Boss Bangla show is another stress buster (what a race, the Bengalis - you put any other race together, the bitching, quarrel, backbiting would be common - but the only special thing about my community is that along with all these, they will essentially sing and dance and paint and if encouraged and given the means, will happily take part in other forms of art as well - e.g. pens and pencils are not allowed inside the Big Boss house so they can't write).

So what actually is worsening? My condition. See depression is not something new to me. I have been depressed for ages. But I have so far been able to treat that depression well. I never let it command me. But now, it seems I have become a puppet in its hand.

The first symptom would be my uncontrollable restlessness. Knowing very well that time and tide waits for none, I am always watching time. Every half an hour in office, I'd look at the clock on my desktop. Once in a while I'd look at the calender and count days, and split them up into working and non working days that are left, split the working days further into onsite and offshore days. It'd be an understatement to say that I hate office. The last face off with my once upon a time dear friend and now barely an acquaintance (soon to be an ex-colleague - a big sigh of relief) was literally the last nail in the coffin. As much as I was exhausted and stifled compromising with her whims, I am equally listless now that after the showdown our friendship died an instantaneous death.

At times I feel, the city of Bangalore is to be blamed. It never gave me back anything except perhaps some money in the bank. These 8.5 years of life in the city (excluding the onsite stint it comes down to around 7 years) - has made me hollow. I hate this place so much that I don't attend scheduled interviews, I am scared to pick up a call from an unknown number, lest it'd be from a job consultant. I know I am earning a bad name for myself, but I cannot survive anymore in this city, period.

Still there are small pricks of pain. The mastermind that I proudly think of myself, being totally lazy and without work is as unthinkable as the fact that there will not be a sunrise tomorrow. But then, the pangs of failure, the multiple instances of being taken taken for granted is an worse ordeal, trust me. Why put up with a dismal salary and lack of respect in the workplace, with my extent of talent? I give my 100% to a work and then either no credit is given for the success or somebody else takes away all the credit. Why compromise with such a situation? Yes, it scares the hell out of me to think that I might not be getting a job ever again, the spendthrift that I am, I don't know how long I can carry on a decent living with my savings, what with the inflation and the state country economy and finance is currently in. But then, how long can one keep on compromising, thinking about these things?

At times though, I am overpowered with memories of my achievements. The praise, the pride, the success, the dedication (I am a person of slightly above average intelligence and good logical sense, but what makes the difference is my doggedness - once I take up a work I don't leave it) and the travel, mostly the travel. Prague is the place that haunts me most of all. Insignificant things from the Bageterie Boulevard counter boy who'd remember my fondness for ice cream, to that lady expressing her awe in Prague Zoo, to see me clad in a sleeveless dress in 9 degree Celsius temperature, to my friendship with Vladimir, the beer, the cooking which transformed from a hobby to a skill, the shopping in Interspar, and that one phone call from Boo early in the morning (can't help describing it like - সাত সমুদ্র তেরো নদীর পার থেকে ) - I just keep on remembering, and thinking, will they come back ever?

The next thing would be the lack of friends. In such situations usually people get their friends and family to support them. Unfortunately I find none. My family was never a de-stressing element in my life. They listen but they never help. They have their own problems. In fact, having listened to my problem, they don't offer any solution, instead they offer their problems instead, which just amounts to adding up to my burden. You see, for a long time now, it has been my family that is dependent on me, instead of me being dependent on my family. I was never dependent on anybody in the first place, I have always tried to be self reliant girl, given my immense pride and ego.

And alas, given my immense pride and ego, it seems to me it'd amount to begging if I weaken down and tell my condition to a friend. Anyways, I scan my entire friend list in gtalk, my entire contact list in the mobile and  don't find a single person whom I might chose to burden with my present state of mind. "Pity" is a gift I have no worth for, and "understanding" is not something any of them can provide. They need to suffer to my extent, be through a decade full of void to even start to know what has brought me to this state. It is not so easy to step in my shoes, and I don't find anyone fit enough to be allowed in there.

This time I took my synthesizer home. Played a little bit, revised all the tunes I had learnt. Even after coming back to Bangalore, it keeps beckoning to me. I discovered an online piano (you have only one octave), but as of now I practice on that only. Learnt to play a Rabindrasangeet (alo aamar alo)...looks like child's play, but keeps me engrossed for a while. I wonder if this is going to be my life - reading a bit, writing something, playing a tune once in a while. No boardroom arguments, no sleepless night spent on some complex design, no time bound self training on some new technology, and worst of all no interaction with the young minds, guiding them up the steep and challenging corporate ladder.

At times I do candidly ask myself. Why am I going? The biggest threat, the monster won't be there. In fact I have been shedding tears despite being disgusted about them at the same time. This weekend and my (not my) Boo is gone forever from my life. I will never be able to see his face. All the love that seemed to be God's boon in my life has been long lost anyways, now the last bit of decaying thread is also about to snap. But then if so, the threat that is the other side of our love-hate relationship is also gone. I have free reign in this office? Or do I? Do I really want to be kicked about once again by the egotists this place seems to be full of? And then, how long can I keep denying the comfort of home? No, I really need to go, because the alternate thing is impossible, I won't be able to get my due respect in this place.

It is wrong to say I am not impacted. I am sad that he's going. The once in a while hide and seek game that I play just to take a look at him will be over for good. Last week I didn't see him for a couple of days. Is he already out? I wondered, and checked the intranet and breathed a sigh of relief. I keep telling myself not to do it - he doesn't deserve my love and care. But what to do if God has created womenfolks to be like this only? I remember that wife of Michael Corleone, prompted by her mother in law, going to the church every day to seek forgiveness for her husband's sins. I laugh and tell my mother - "I can sense that even he is not very happy. You won't realize it, I do. To you it'd seem it is humanly impossible for his face to look darker than it already is. But I can make out his mood from variations of the color on his face." I say such crazy things and laugh, and then after mom has kept the phone, I cry a bit. Have always been so eager to get away from him, to protect myself. Now that he's done all conceivable harm a human being can do to another, still I am not ok about letting him go from my life altogether. Just that thought keeps coming back about how he had loved me, how much he had loved me, or may be he didn't, but still I had felt that surge of love all the same. It seems as if the ocean has dried up - going ahead there'd be no sign that it ever existed.

With a dizzy mind, sneezes and lack of appetite, and other minor ailments bothering all the while, I feel I just cannot drag it on. Not even six weeks left, I tell myself. I cannot bear to wait for these six weeks to get over, and I dread what will happen once they get over. Most of all, I wish I could stop time and not let it move on to Friday. But then everything I want cannot happen at the same time. And given a choice, I just want to die peacefully. I don't expect anything from life anyways. So it is best to call it quits. Call me a coward, I am ok. It is not that I didn't give it a fight. I just can't fight anymore. There is nothing to be achieved by fighting a lost game.

It had been a colorless life after the parlor lady had removed my nail polish while doing pedicure. Don't know what got me that I put on red paint both on hands and feet last night. You know when ladies die with their husbands still alive, there is a custom in my place to paint their feet with a red dye called altaa and smear vermillion in their hair parting. You'd feel they are being made up for their marriage for a second time in life. Apparently they are thought to be extremely virtuous to die like this. So I look at my red nails and think, so much of me has already died, one more part will die this Friday. Yet another will die on 5th of October. How on earth does it matter?

Make a wish? A car I could drive to office (without the exhaustion caused by the Bangalore traffic), a sunny and well ventilated flat with bookshelves for my books and enough space in it so that my whole family can stay with me, a good enough salary and designation in office so that I don't feel cheated, home food - I might think of living in this city. Yes every nook and corner would remind me of things I have lost, but I'd be able to tell myself that I have a decent life all the same. An impossibility because my finances won't support such cost intensive plans and then, my parents will not agree to come to Bangalore, even if they agree for my sake, they'd feel so uprooted. So...that's that...now waiting for it to end - in better words, to culminate :)

The festival called homecoming... :)

Oh homecoming is such a glorious feeling! The first thing to welcome and soothe my much tortured existence is the huge amount of greenery that takes your attention even from the flight window. Concrete jungle that Bangalore has become these days, even from within the clouds it looks a dull brownish grey. But as the terrain of Kolkata gets more and more vivid during the landing, my eyes feast on the wonderfully lush green panorama that unfurls. Love the new Kolkata airport as well. Makes me really really proud that even my city has a world class airport now (in fact I feel it is much larger and more gorgeous than BIA). Yes the weather is a big let down - the 29 degree Celsius would have been quite bearable had it not been for the humidity. Roads are not in a very good shape, there's too much water logging, but then at the same time there's too much construction going on as well.  If we are to take the benefits of a better infrastructure, little inconvenience has to be put up with. So finally fought with the traffic situation and the sweaty climate and reached home. And the joy of giving my parents and granny the gifts I had been accumulating for them even since my last visit to Bahrain (which was sometimes in May, and I didn't get an opportunity to visit them since then) - and the immense pleasure of having home made food (I simply can't stand outside food in Bangalore anymore, and I  simply can't think of cooking in the disheveled dirty kitchen of my flat - I just wanna flee) - you know what...such is my growing apathy towards the place - last night my bro prepared some khichdi at home (we had an early flight next morning, so were planning to keep dinner simple and retire sooner than usual) - and I puked it all out even before I had finished eating - kept puking till there was nothing else to come out - I just can't stay in that God forsaken place anymore - here I have this palatial place in Kolkata all for myself, and just for a little bit of money I have to keep slaving there and stay away from home and hearth - is not my definition of how to live life.

I need a lot of freshness to bring my life back on track. Bangalore personifies staleness these days - that is probably the primary reason of me being so pukish there. It is an ok thing for me to not be financially empowered for a while, dammit all, I have enough money stacked up in my bank to let me live lavishly for at least the next 5 years. If I maintain certain restraint and God is helpful, I can live my whole life on this money itself. I can't go to that sickly place every morning just to be paid some crappy salary at the end of the month. What about the people who stifle me? What about the atmosphere that numbs me down? Why on earth do I have to put up with such things? See, not that I have not tried, I never give up without trying. But now I feel and know that I don't need to force myself to keep trying all the while.

How rejuvenated I feel. I remembered to get my synthesizer home this time. In Bangalore, I hardly got an opportunity to play it ever. At home I happily learn tunes and play them again and again and swell with pride, what if they are mere nursery rhymes I am playing. Yes I do remember those hopeless days when I walked about the huge hall till 3 in the night and was almost mad with desperation - you see that suffering is hard to forget. But somehow it doesn't harm much, rather tells me that I have been immensely brave in combating this selfish world - and now I can afford to relax. Oh how I look forward to 5th of October - it is going to be my own sweet independence day.

Do anniversaries exist for broken relationships?

There was a hope against hope you know - a feeble, almost dying hope, that you just might happen to remember today's date. And then, seeing your attitude today, I accepted the truth and just let that hope die. Yes, you don't have any feeling whatsoever left for me. But then, there being place for this truth to exist, isn't there in this wide world, a little bit of space to accommodate my truth as well? The truth that I did happen to remember today's date, did dress up in a very subdued kind of special way and left for office, was heartbroken and abused and wondered numbly if this is actually our 2nd anniversary and we were actually that much close just two years back - or it has been 20 years or may be even more, still I happened to have some golgappa on my way home, laughed and joked with the kid who served (he prefers to serve his golgappas tikha and khatta, and I prefer them with meetha paani, but to keep his wish I had to accept one with khatta paani as well) - and as I walked back, despite whatever way you behave with me, or act as if I am someone non existent in your world, or someone whose shadow even is highly infectious and must be avoided at all costs, I still love you - I love you and I close my eyes, embrace you with my left hand round your neck and right hand around your waist, and my left cheek lighly brushing against your right one, I whisper once again in your ears, my Boo Boo...

Highly scandalizing, na sweetheart? Yes, I agree, but you see, it is indeed a very liberal world, it allows your truth of cheating me and using me and throwing me away to coexist with perfect poise along with my truth of trusting you, believing you and unconditionally loving you. I don't need to explain myself beyond this - I have earned the liberty to live like this - it takes a very brave heart to win this kind of freedom :)

I actually looked up the calendar in my desktop to check if I remember the date correctly. Yes, 7th August 2011 was a Sunday, you did come to meet me soaked in the rain, did change into my blue jeans and we spent the entire afternoon and the evening together - together in a way soul mates do. How can I forget the sanctity of that day darling? If I ever do, that day I shall also stop loving you. And if God is there somewhere, He will take care that a day will come, when you will also long for me, not for any stupid electric shock, but to know that someone can love you despite knowing the kind of person you actually are. Everyone seeks reassurance at some point in time, you will also need it sometime. Till then, feel free to act away. 

Crest and trough, crest and trough...

I hate those smiley smiley pics. I feel like kicking him out of my friend list in Facebook. I absolutely hate the fake poses and plaster smiles. And then, having read Blink, I wonder, what if they are not fake but true. What if these incessant trips to Nandi hill et all are actually enjoyed by him? What if he is blissfully happy and at peace with himself.

I don't bother much - let him be in whatever spirits he has landed himself in - high, low, medium, monotonous, whatever. I concentrate on reviving my spirits. I listen to couple of Aashiqui 2 songs, and then Pherari Mon from Antaheen. It instantly makes me happy. You know, life becomes heavy if you attach undue importance to insignificant people - don't let them weigh you down.

I was feeling tired, exhausted and feverish - this one song made me feel so fresh and contented. You know what, someday, I will marry some Bengali guy - who'll understand me and love me a lot.

Untitled thoughts - more

Get me some songs dude, my throat is going dry...

When do songs start acting like water? It is true that I am usually in a habit of drinking a lot of water, and I am not having enough water these days, mainly due to my preoccupation about - what's next? 4-5 glasses of water per day, that's all I get to drink. At times, in the morning, I get some meager breakfast in form of a chocolate slab or a sweet or two, at times I don't. I am half afraid of getting out of the flat and facing the same bitter world, the same whimsical autowallahs, the everyday saga of reaching office late, of trying to get myself engrossed in something, trying to survive, just helplessly trying my best to survive, and once in while breaking down all within myself, with absolutely no external sign of this not only wounded but almost destroyed heart anywhere. Lunch comes in a dabba these days. Some boring chapathis, a bowl of thin daal, some tasteless sabji, some stale salad. I eat up without complaining. Wait for the rest of the day to pass on, just keep pushing myself, to endure and endure more. Keep checking the clock, the calendar - telling myself that the torture would soon end. The torture is something I have taken up knowingly, so I shouldn't complain about this. Evening comes, I go to the overcrowded bus stop, and get into an overcrowded bus. If I am lucky I still happen to get a seat, and if I sit comfortably, and I am beyond letting things weigh more on my mind, I feel like listening to my ipod once in a blue moon. I readily skip all the sad songs and the love songs. No...not for me...I am someone who is beyond experiencing feelings. I don't feel anything other than restlessness these days. But ya, when I have to stand in the bus and be pushed and shoved around, I  do maintain some patience. That's it, end of the day, get myself some food, walk back home...and keep wondering, would I really be having this life for another 40-60 years? Once in a while it simply gets worse, I shout at mom, or bhai. Those days I am depressed beyond tolerance. I know I am not the only one...there are people suffering all over the world to the same extent or even more, but that somehow ceases to mean anything.

Then what was it that made me ask for songs in the middle of the night? I don't listen to songs these days. Anyways, I relented to my cravings way I usually do. I put on a track from Lootera again - Mann Marziyan. A beautiful track...which I put on repeat and heard a couple of times. Then I switched off the light and still stubbornly kept sitting up on the bed. No, I won't sleep - tears kept rolling down my cheeks. Why was I being so extremely sad? Because some person had treated me badly during an interview? To think clearly, he didn't really want to treat me badly, somewhere, during the discussion he really did get a glimpse of my vulnerability and extreme urge to prove my worth. The way he chose to deal with that did not fit the context and that's it. Then what else is the reason? The insensitivity of my ex PM? Oh what's new about that, a colleague had told me long back that he is like that only, can talk a lot but won't come to any use when required. The situation in office fails to disturb me anymore. I do my work and come back. Once in a while I miss that little boy who'd give me so much peace and happiness, but if getting estranged from him is the price I need to pay to keep intact my own self esteem, I am ok with that. Anyways, as mom tells me, he is not my own son. The future has its own uncertainties, but if I look at the present, way I am living in every fraction of a second and just pushing it to move on, to get over, I guess even such an uncertain future will be a welcome respite.

Then what on earth is it? Is he still so important to me, that his going away hurts? How is his going away from me any different from my going away from him. When we are not a couple anymore, perhaps never were, how does physical separation matter? Have not touched him in ages, haven't spoken to him since February I guess, how does the news that he got a new job cause any impact? Have I ever treated him as a competitor that the fact that even he is capable of getting a job and I am not, or may be the fact that he would be earning more that me now, all these things are making me jealous and upset? And then I close my eyes and ask myself intently, what exactly do you want? And all my love surges forward, and with closed eyes I picture myself embracing him tightly, and crying and asking - Boo, did you never love me, do you never miss me, do you really never regret what you have done? I know his shell won't be broken by my tears, but because of the sole fact that I have loved this man from the bottom of my heart, I feel at times what he actually feels.

Doesn't matter, because it is anyways such a make believe world, and anyways I cry myself to sleep almost every night. One night of stubbornness about going on crying and not sleeping doesn't matter, one life of stubbornness of going on loving and hoping and destroying myself also doesn't matter. There was this stupid post on Facebook saying - don't worry when God pushes you to the limits of your difficulties, either He will catch you when you fall, or He will teach you how to fly. I chuckled and thought, what if God just lets me fall and does not even attempt to catch me?

I don't trust in Him anymore. Still I don't give up on life. After that particularly painful interview, I thought I will give it a break. I planned to jot down all the different interviews where I have failed, engineering colleges, schools, corporate houses - everywhere. Frankly my failures far outnumber my success rate. And if you hear about the brands which have rejected me, you'd never think of on boarding me ever. But then I have worked for the best brand in India, I am from the best school in Kolkata and the best university in West Bengal. And my dad says, I can break but I won't crack up (আমি ভাঙবো তবু মচকাবো না ) - so it took me just two days to recover and last night I was writing applications till 1:30 in the night. Let's see...