Today, finally our university website was launched...by the governor that too...
I was not sure if I'd be allowed in the room, I am not an official employee of the university, I have been given a casual appointment for this particular project. I was a little worried about how shameful it'd look if I'd be asked to leave the premises, so I had quite made up my mind not to go to the conference hall at all, if not asked. But then, to my surprise, nobody stopped me. In fact another colleague, who is a permanent employee of our department, walked in a jeans and t-shirt, and a policeman followed him and walked straight to me and asked, "is he supposed to stay here?" I nodded, made a serious face and said yes, whereas I was going ROTFL in my mind. What could have been a more hilarious irony.
There was one more challenge...I simply didn't know what to wear. Yesterday too, I had a presentation to make for an upcoming project I am going to apply for, the audience involved a number of dignitaries from the university as well as other important organizations. I somehow managed with a formal pin striped shirt and a black trouser which has almost become an uniform for me for the "once in a blue moon" interview calls. Had a momentary blackout in the beginning of the presentation, it flitted before my eyes - how life used to be before, seminars would be a regular event - and how I have been struggling recently for an opportunity to do any work whatsoever - I had spent a sleepless night preparing for the event, and I was not quite in my usual self. But like I said, it was just a blink, and then I bounced back...and after it was over and well appreciated, it was like that heavenly feeling associated with the first taste of success after eternal wait. Whatever...amid everything else, what I noticed is, my corporate attire doesn't go well with the general custom of the university. Saree would be the best choice, but I can't manage that. So after much deliberation, I finally took out and ironed my red বাটিক print salwar suit, and put it on after taking my bath.
What followed was a heart wrenching pain. It was the same salwar suit I had worn when I went out with Boo for the last time, in September 2012. I have never worn it since. The shame associated with it, his outright refusal to accept our relationship, his insults, everything is as if still smeared on the dress. I had told Meenu that evening, with so much pride, when she asked me why I chose this dress for my date, that I wanted to give him a glimpse of what a Bengali bride can look like. I remembered my friendship with Meenu at that time, how she had driven "like Michael Schumacher" to get me there on time - how funny it is, I laughed in my mind and thought, there's no Boo, no Meenu, and Schumi himself is in coma...and I got my driving license and let alone driving like him, don't even have provisions to buy a car. But the pain of the occasion, and the disturbing memories associated with the dress wouldn't go off with the laugh...
Gradually, as I walked past the police cordon, I got accustomed to ignoring for the time being, whatever ill feelings were going on in my mind. And as our team photo was taken with the governor during the launching, I kind of forced myself to bask a little in the hard earned glory of it all. Now what remains more prominent in the long run...what I feel when I wear this dress the next time, ignominy or pride...is yet to be seen...
I was not sure if I'd be allowed in the room, I am not an official employee of the university, I have been given a casual appointment for this particular project. I was a little worried about how shameful it'd look if I'd be asked to leave the premises, so I had quite made up my mind not to go to the conference hall at all, if not asked. But then, to my surprise, nobody stopped me. In fact another colleague, who is a permanent employee of our department, walked in a jeans and t-shirt, and a policeman followed him and walked straight to me and asked, "is he supposed to stay here?" I nodded, made a serious face and said yes, whereas I was going ROTFL in my mind. What could have been a more hilarious irony.
There was one more challenge...I simply didn't know what to wear. Yesterday too, I had a presentation to make for an upcoming project I am going to apply for, the audience involved a number of dignitaries from the university as well as other important organizations. I somehow managed with a formal pin striped shirt and a black trouser which has almost become an uniform for me for the "once in a blue moon" interview calls. Had a momentary blackout in the beginning of the presentation, it flitted before my eyes - how life used to be before, seminars would be a regular event - and how I have been struggling recently for an opportunity to do any work whatsoever - I had spent a sleepless night preparing for the event, and I was not quite in my usual self. But like I said, it was just a blink, and then I bounced back...and after it was over and well appreciated, it was like that heavenly feeling associated with the first taste of success after eternal wait. Whatever...amid everything else, what I noticed is, my corporate attire doesn't go well with the general custom of the university. Saree would be the best choice, but I can't manage that. So after much deliberation, I finally took out and ironed my red বাটিক print salwar suit, and put it on after taking my bath.
What followed was a heart wrenching pain. It was the same salwar suit I had worn when I went out with Boo for the last time, in September 2012. I have never worn it since. The shame associated with it, his outright refusal to accept our relationship, his insults, everything is as if still smeared on the dress. I had told Meenu that evening, with so much pride, when she asked me why I chose this dress for my date, that I wanted to give him a glimpse of what a Bengali bride can look like. I remembered my friendship with Meenu at that time, how she had driven "like Michael Schumacher" to get me there on time - how funny it is, I laughed in my mind and thought, there's no Boo, no Meenu, and Schumi himself is in coma...and I got my driving license and let alone driving like him, don't even have provisions to buy a car. But the pain of the occasion, and the disturbing memories associated with the dress wouldn't go off with the laugh...
Gradually, as I walked past the police cordon, I got accustomed to ignoring for the time being, whatever ill feelings were going on in my mind. And as our team photo was taken with the governor during the launching, I kind of forced myself to bask a little in the hard earned glory of it all. Now what remains more prominent in the long run...what I feel when I wear this dress the next time, ignominy or pride...is yet to be seen...
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