How I hate this life...

I am angry. Not a proper day to be angry, I know. Durga Puja is about to begin, and I am going to take the delivery of my car tomorrow. I must be extremely happy. Then what went wrong, that I stayed up till 4:30 in the morning today, cursing my fate, and feel morose and let down? Well, it is the sheer amount of injustice I have to bear in life. I don’t visit Facebook because it affects me in a very bitter way. But these days, because of the ongoing agitation and festive season, and to check this curious message from a junior in my college that he has apparently seen me on the roadside and called out and I couldn’t hear him…(and to top all that, Avik da’s accusation that I am missing out on the several poems he’s writing on the occasion) -  well, I just happened to log in. And it makes me sick to see everyone having a life, having a husband and kids and roaming around and shopping and cooking, and then doing their jobs (dancing, singing, teaching…whatever)…and here I am, having a life devoid of even the smallest bit of joy and hope.

And then to add fuel to the fire, I had to discover that TDS has been deducted from dad’s new FD account despite timely submission of form 15H. I felt like killing myself for not noticing it earlier, for as it is, today is Sunday, and tomorrow I shall be hugely busy with the car delivery formalities. Over that, tomorrow is the last working day in the university as well. We have planned a team lunch (ever heard the term his his whose whose or tera tu mera main? Well, don’t wreck your brains, it is just contri lunch, in India we have several names for it, the above two are just examples :D) Just to prove my point that I am not always this heartbroken, good for nothing person, let me tell you, it is I who put forward the idea of wearing saree on this day. It is just ushering in the festivities on one hand, and then, come on, 29^th September 2014 is going to be a milestone in my life. I want to look my best when I’d finally be getting my car.

And there lies the problem. I cannot probably wear a saree, get all decked up, and visit that stupid bank with that good for nothing banker in it, who rejected me. If you ask me, it was a totally bad idea to open an account in that bank, nothing has gone right ever since. The guy must have screwed up parameters so that the tax exemption flag is not getting set (he did put my birthday in my dad’s date of birth field). Now 29^th, no way I am going to see his face or even talk to him, I do not want to contaminate my greatest day. And 30^th is the half yearly bank closing day, and mostly the tax  transactions will be closed on the same day, i.e. they cannot be reversed later on (as per whatever I know of banking). Well, private banks might cheat, but they are not callous like nationalized banks.

It could have been solved if my dad had volunteered to go to the bank and discuss the stuff tomorrow itself, but no, he has his trading to do and must leave early. You see, only I am this stupid idiot who leaves her job and career and stays at home begging for work for more than 5 months and then is forced to settle down for a contractual job, and then stretches herself to the maximum extent to buy a car, and then this wardrobe and show case we wanted for a long time (just the sofa remains now) – trust me, I have reached the credit limit of my credit card for the first time in life. But of course how should that matter, how can I expect the least bit of cooperation on this account? Why should anyone else budge from their personal work to do a favor to me?

And man, then I get this nagging question in my mind. Nobody’s gonna care for me when I grow old. It is always going to be this lonely existence, just finding pretexts for staying alive, without ever actually having a life, because I am shy and I can’t reach out and over that I am this perfect snob. I really miss having that one person in my life, who will hold my hand and say, come on, you have worried enough, just take a short nap, I shall put the rest of the things to order. I just hate being so lonely, hate it to the core…

My life is just not supposed  to change. Not that I don't work hard enough to change it - imagine me a year back, and look at my condition now, at least outwardly, the hell and heaven difference is entirely my doing, only I know how much I have struggled, but that's just it. The struggle is so fruitless. All it will achieve for me is a way to breathe without choking in tears. It won't let me live and God won't bother to make my life easy or care to add some real meaning to my life. I can't dream of my own future (except a helpless one where I am destined to die alone)...

You know...I always had this fear. I didn't want to achieve the last bit of materialistic ambition. I really don't have anything else to live for.

नसीहतें अलग, I am allowed to crib in my own blog, I guess. I don't care if you call me an incorrigible romantic fool. Go ahead. You definitely have all rights to your own thought process. As much as I have the right to be angry. It is one thing to face a hurdle once in a while. It is another thing to struggle with every small thing in life. Exactly the difference between, "life is not always fair", and "life is never fair".

I really feel lonely, as if it is not autumn, it is winter already...

At long last...

I have been away for a long time. And apologies if I sound like the mad hatter today. Raving, incoherent, nervous. Actually, I needed some music to ease my agitated mind, and after going through the choices youtube gave me (from my usual playlists), I ended up choosing one of my most favorites, Koi Fariyaad (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uUCkBIelSjM) - but at the same time, one, I haven't  heard for ages - well, I do not listen to music these days, right? This reminds me, I must put my iPod on charge (I don't, remember when I charged it last, probably 3 months back) - I need it as a medicine today, or else I won't be able to sleep tonight.

I have been terribly fidgety in the last few weeks. And I was depressed too. Somehow, I couldn't make out what I am supposed to do with this life. There was this consistent void, despite everything I'd try to do. Mid of last month, I was excited about the car, then it died a natural death because of the constant resistance from my family, and I also gave in to my calculative nature and did an FD on the last big chunk of liquid cash. 25th August was the website launch date, and that kept me busy for a while. I made a customary visit to my uncle - মামা (who is like my friend, philosopher and guide) to discuss about getting the car, and associated stuff, only because I don't tend to take any big decision without asking him, but in my heart of hearts was not sure if anything concrete would materialize finally. Then early September went with the sudden and unexpected interview call (on which I received no further update ever again - though the interview went quite well), the imminent launch of the newsletter, followed by the unwanted controversy (that we are not highlighting the so called lead partner enough), and on the official front I was dealing well with the situation, with diplomatic (and duly caustic) mails, but then, as soon as I'd reach back home, I was again enshrouded in nothingness.

Then for few rare moments, there was softness, there was a pink hue, there were dreams. It was my best friend's birthday. And how I wanted to get my car right on that day. As if to break all boundaries that separate us right now. As if to tell him, through this simple act, just how important he still is to me. But then the plan was abandoned. It seems no transaction is preferred to be done on the particular Bengali calendar month in which his birthday falls...and I couldn't break free my parents of the superstition...as I was was too shy to explain my real reason of preferring the particular date.

The next week, the alleged month was supposed to end. But before it would end, one of the worst attacks on humanity and independence was made on the students of my university, when they were beaten up in the middle of the night as they peacefully protested for their rights. And as I was bringing in the last item of my materialistic dreams (Own a House, Own a Car, Get an MBA Degree and Become a Project Manager by 30...well it took just 5 more years to fulfill it all), the students who are like my own brothers and sisters, or perhaps even children (now that in some remote capacity, I teach them as well), brought about a new revolution altogether, in a city that had almost died out of its utter selfishness. I am really grateful about being eye witness to this new surge of life and conscience that has swept this city which had quite accepted the anarchy that is going on, in a very indifferent sort of way, even till a few days back.

It keeps raining incessantly. I feel as if I am being reborn - I might have mentioned here too many times already, how important rain is in my life. The same me would remain quite unaffected, even irritated, when it would rain. Not anymore. Today, I love hearing the rain and the thunder, as I write here. It brings about strange sensations I haven't felt in the last 7 years...

Today, I cleared the payment for my car. As I wait for its delivery, scheduled to happen in one week's time, I shiver with apprehension. I keep remembering, quite theatrically, that famous saying from Spiderman, "with great power, comes great responsibility". Not bad for an apparently loser of a girl in her personal life, to have achieved this much professionally, to have her conscience and sense of gratitude intact, to have never hurt someone intentionally, and to have been this dedicated child to her parents. I remembered all the dear people in my life, those who have been my friends now or in the past, even people like Meenu (I really wanted to call her today and share my joy, but stopped myself because I know the reality only too well), Anand (and his lectures about car assembling and engineering), Boo (and our crazy argument about that Chevrolet Beat and the two dogs in the back seat), friends and relatives whom I have loved and lost, and those who are still there for me in a rock solid way. I am happy today, despite being torn, feeling unprotected, uncared for and lonely, I do appreciate the fact that I have fought it well and been a very brave girl - it is not easy to fulfill your dreams (yes, even the materialistic ones) in a world that shuns you...

I am living on, and I am living well...thoroughly enjoyed the little bit of Puja shopping that has happened this month (and yes, must say this despite my various differences with the ruling party, বিশ্ব বাংলা is one commendable effort from this government). And ya, the couple of classes that I have taken till date felt great too. Was quite happy to have met the banker guy who rejected me, regarding the car loan (which I didn't have to take finally, all thanks to my brother), and to have properly snubbed him (he knows lesser banking fundamentals than me, and I enjoyed making him nervous).

Well, on the flip side, I still have trouble concentrating when I am reading, the nerves are so wrought with tension that let alone driving, I am out of balance even when I am walking or sitting on the side seat of an auto, I close my eyes in fear when a large bus comes about from the opposite end, the vertigo takes on me suddenly...but I know that I will learn to drive steadily, and that too...very soon. I am not ashamed of my weak heart...I have learned to survive. Dark shadows that shake me up so, cannot consume me, and that in itself is a huge victory.

To celebrate the landmark day that today is...I plan to put up this photo here, which I discovered from a very old collection, while looking for a suitable picture of mine to be put up in our website. Yes, I know I am barely recognizable in it, but I want to end my anonymity, even if in this very subtle way. You know why I chose this? This is so truly me...the perfect reflection of what I am...from deep within... :)

All that happened this week...

I am addicted to Highway. It has been close to a week since I watched it for the first time. A single day hasn’t passed since then, when I haven’t watched bits and pieces of the movie or at least listened to the songs. I had this long discussion with my brother about his view on Imtiaz Ali movies, coaxed him to watch Highway, and kept raving about the acting prowess of the hero, who my brother had always been praising, but I never paid heed, given the kind of movies he has been cast in were never my cup of tea. I even requested dad to watch the movie and made him listen to the songs, though I am not very sure how comfortable I’d be watching it with dad beside me – you see, it has become an intimate dream like thing to me, it reflects too much of the kind of person I am, the kind of thought process I have – it is difficult to share such things with one’s dad, isn’t it? I am so glad about the music too, this is the A R Rahman I have always loved. You can see glimpses of his old self in the other recent movies (Slumdog Millionaire and Ranjhnaa included), but this is the real him. Music you just can’t stop listening to. Music that keeps coming back to your mind, you find a moment’s respite and you feel, now is the time, let’s play it once again.

You know, there is this reflection test I often do. Look at myself from inside a mirror, and try to judge how I am doing. It has been quite a while that the usual features have been missing. I don’t look sad, I don’t have tears in my eyes. I do have this double chin which I hate, also the way my hair looks dull most of the time, but then that’s mostly because I don’t groom myself well. Otherwise my reflection tells me, that things are quite alright. I really can’t believe that I have been able to move on, after all that happened in the last two years. Those things don’t seem to affect me anymore. My friend’s husband pinged me and asked me how things were. I responded pretty naturally that I was upset they didn’t care to inform me that they are reuniting, and told him clearly that though I miss his wife at times, I don’t want to call her and re-establish the friendship. A friend decided to councel me on "love is not the ony thing", which, though I felt strange, I managed not to feel bad about. I have learnt to take things easy, I guess.

But that doesn’t mean there’s any end to my worries. The downward track my career has taken (at least salary wise, and that is the most important metric for your career this days) is the biggest of my worries. Everything is good about my job, I have the requisite time for myself and my family, and I have a young and obedient team, but then university environment is such, that you need to be submissive (to the professors). I don’t like that. Then there is no career growth prospect. Though recently I have been asked to take classes as well (for a post graduate diploma course on basic computing, where I have been given the liberty to design the course content and structure too), that really doesn’t boost up my morale to a great extent. I still earn a fraction of my earlier salary, and the modest cash inflow infuriates me. Owing to this, I have successfully screwed things up for Monday. I have a class to take in the first half, and an interview to attend in the second half. Given the Kolkata traffic condition these days, it is really going to be hectic, and I have kind of brought it on myself. I am not sure about what to wear (formal enough for a teacher as well as an interview candidate), I wonder how the interview would go (it is on a technology that I know nothing about, and that’s a relief because it is going to be impromptu), I have to plan the travel between all the three places (my department, the department where I am taking the class, and the interview venue), I have to take print out of my resume and the call letter (which the lazy me did not do today), and on top of this, I have to prepare for the class, make a ppt perhaps, and get tickets for at least one of Mardaani and বুনো হাঁস, if not both, and book the car also in between, and ya, discuss about a faithful driver whom I can employ. Wait, it doesn’t end there. I have to follow up on the latest consumer complaint (ICICI) that includes escalating the issue and raising it on consumer forums, and get a new cupboard for my clothes (I discovered a lizard today in the suitcase where I keep my regular wear things). Oh, and I need to prepare a financial report for my project also (though I have been very lazy at work this week, but let us do this in advance to make up for my unavailability on Monday - you see, I am this prim, conscientious girl :P). God, who wanted to have this hectic a life?

I met the banker guy a couple of days back, while I was walking back home in the evening. He politely asked me, “Madam, doing good?” I looked up and couldn’t recognize him, gave a curt reply, “Ya…” Later his identity dawned on me. Imagine a prospective groom calling me madam. See, Indians don’t know French, so don’t even expect mademoiselle from them. That’s not what I tried to imply. I am sighing about the kind of guys I meet – they are not even socially at par with me. And I dream of a husband who’d boss  over me and command me around…(may be that’s why I loved the Highway hero so much, I want a husband like that, very rough on the outside, and warm as honey at heart…)

I did get a "Happy Teachers' Day" wish from the only student who still keeps in touch. Even more worry is to follow if I manage to bag the job for which I have the interview on Monday. Do I leave my safe reclusive life at the university (and probably more teachers' day wishes in the coming years) and get back to the corporate world? Man proposes and God disposes, so let’s not discuss things till they have happened…

Highway...

As I finally went to sleep last night, at around 3 AM, I could feel such a serene freshness which has been quite rare in my life. So has been waking up in the morning with a grin...not feeling tired with the day's mundane work...the drizzle and the dirty water in the potholes had never felt more romantic...oh it felt as if I could never again lose my temper.

A very very close match would be...as you might have already guessed, the mornings I wake up with a dream of Rito still smeared on my eyes. Oh, I remembered such happy memories...the happiest memories of my life...the evening when Boo first kissed me, or the Boo murmuring in his fever - "the maid's kid, she said, bhaiya your wife is very pretty, and her mom started beating her...why should she beat her?", Anand pleading with me - "promise me you'll never cry again", or Anand in his fever saying, "tu bahut achhi hogayi hai, pehle itni achhi nahi tthi", my bossie urging me to take half his sweet, meeting him for the last time in person, knowing I might never see this gentleman again, and crying all the way to the airport - crying so much that the conductor wouldn't even approach me for the ticket...my bossie's pic with his son, Rito's pic with his daughter, both among my most favorite photographs...oh so many memories. If you ask me, my most favorite is always something to do with travel, me and Rito walking together, that bus we used to board, and he'd touch my cheek and turn my face to look at my earring, me and Boo on his bike and sometimes, scooter, me and Anand, on our way to Yelahanka, my MRT rides with bossie...

Oh the bliss when you are happy...nothing upsets you...because these very memories have killed me so many times. The worst memory that haunts me, the night when me and Boo were coming back after the Barfi show, also failed to impact in the way it does...yes, I won't deny that I had tears in my eyes, but I would rather prefer describing the tears as an emotional release...than something poignant.

I was afraid of watching anything strenuous this weekend, I have almost stopped watching movies these days. Movies, something that used to essentially nurture my entire thought process once. Why, do I even read books? I was conveniently becoming this zombie who is falling in tune with her monotonous, repetitive life. The only excitement that remained was about buying the car, as if dying without fulfilling this last bit materialistic dream of mine would be such a pathetic waste...else what more is there to be achieved in life?

The girl inside me, the real me, would put up a weak fight - "no, I refuse to be a zombie". "What do you want then?", I'd ask. "I want a movie". I'd conveniently settle for a kid's ghost movie, যেখানে ভূতের ভয়...

At around 12 in the night, that real me would revolt again. "But, you have Highway...I always wanted to watch that...". Trying my best to dissuade her, I'd say, "it'd stress you out...", but would give in all the same. You see, we are the same person after all.

Oh, wouldn't it be insufficient to call it a poetry? Poetry has rhythm associated with it, but not music, you see. This movie is lyrical. It is like, romance itself taking you through its biography in a lilting, mesmerizing voice. This is me, this is how a relationship (which I have always called inter dependency) happens between man and woman. I was not in my practical, buried alive state, after such a long time. It was like watching Maqbool, in the dead of the night, or Bombay, on a rain soaked afternoon. Being transported to a different world. Feeling life throbbing in my veins once again. The girl, who has always worshiped love, could feel love talking to her...

Alia is good. she has acted well, and my review ends there, so far as she is concerned. The heart and soul of the movie is this hero guy, Randeep Hooda, who is no doubt a very strong actor, as his earlier movies have also proved. But he molds himself in the very character of Mahavir, his suppressed undercurrent of emotions under the guise of that perpetual frown, and, perhaps the most beautiful scene of the movie, when his face breaks into a smile as love triumphs over all his misgivings (in that Reckong Peo bus stop scene). His restrain and resolve not to fall in this trap, his myriads of emotion when he is at the point of no return (outside that mountain home) and his sombre acceptance of destiny (perhaps he got a premonition of his imminent death - that is why he was so fidgety and apprehensive) - yet he would let his girl have her own way. Perhaps when you experience this one thing that is divine in the mortal world, you are quite quite ok to face your doom.

Imtiaz Ali has been my virtual friend from his very first film, Socha Na Tha (it does take time to realize whom you love...). Then came Jab We Met (I can watch it any number of times and remember my days at SG), Love Aaj Kaal (Yeh Dooriyan...ah, that hope that someday he'd realize what I have already understood), Rockstar (ah Prague again), even Cocktail (not directed by him, and not a movie I particularly liked, but still I agree with the message that you cannot compromise in a relationship devoid of love). In a nutshell, Imtiaz and I think in a similar way, so far as human bonding is concerned. And hence, unlike my revered movie guru Rajeev Masand, who was exasperated with this attempt of his, and gave him 2 out of 5, I was plain grateful to this thought-buddy of mine for giving me such a wonderful movie to watch. Apparently nonsensical to the world, a story line hard to believe, the twists and tragedies that seem somewhat imposed, the make up pathetic (how does Alia's hair manage to remain so silky despite the incessant travel??!!), the cinematography - its only saving grace...the practical me agrees with it all. But then Highway was to me that jolt (one that even Queen was unable to produce, though I rather liked the movie), the same one that...despite being such a despicable part of medical science, does succeed in bringing a mentally sick person back to his senses at times. I might never meet my Mahavir, may be we have already met and parted ways, never to come together again, may be we are yet to meet, may be our togetherness will never be quite fruitful (as per the apparent social norms) - but still the charm is in the belief itself...that there is one such person...the faith is what makes you go on. I am a very romantic person, I shouldn't transform into a practical self, simply as a result of things going wrong in my life so far. The movie inspired me to accept my mistakes but still be capable of falling in love...with that one person who is equally in need of me. Else, tell me how this world has gone on this long, even after so much brutality? There must be something called love...