I have been feeling terrible. The mental agony grew intolerable, and then, on Friday, the fever came up. I had come back from the community lunch that is organized during the Puja days in our housing society, and was feeling extremely tired, so took to bed. In the afternoon, when I woke up, I literally understood what they mean when they use the term - "legs felt like jelly". Mine did. I wobbled precariously as I descended down the stairs, I felt I might fall down anytime. Ever since I fell down on the road and hurt my ankle, my balance problem has become quite acute, I am more afraid of height, and feel I might falter, miss a step, and bring about some accident. Well, as soon as I reached downstairs, my parents and brother examined me and declared that I have fever, so after much deliberation I finally took half a paracetamol (I hate taking medicines, you see), along with an antacid. I had to continue the medicine till today, and now thankfully, I don't feel the fever anymore. But the mood doesn't improve, I am at a loss to know what to do about it.
Crux of the matter is that I am unhappy. It has always been my policy to allow myself to do whatever I want. I wanted to rejoice on FB. I put up this freshly taken photograph of my car, along with a hugely photoshop-ed photo of the car keys (I adjusted the brightness and contrast and removed the background), early Tuesday morning. Monday went unexpectedly well. I managed to wear a saree and reach office without any hindrance, dad stayed back home to deal with the bank problem (they refunded the money by the way - but didn't explain the cause of the lapse, I guess dad didn't press), we went to the car showroom, took the car, did puja and brought it home safely, and distributed sweets - everything was perfect. Tuesday, I woke up early in the morning on my own accord, and amid attending calls, chatting on Whatsapp, and other sundry jobs, I was editing the images on photoshop, imagine how much energy I had. After that, took bath and got ready in a jiffy, and set off to pick up my bro from the airport. And then it started raining really heavily. It has rained more when I have been with other friends in their cars, but I have never been so apprehensive. All the while the rain pelted on my car roof, I was quite out of my mind with tension. Everyone else tells me it is a wonderful car, which doesn't jerk or make any noise, but I can feel even the feeblest jerk and any untoward sound it produces. Perhaps these are the inevitable woes of being in "total possession" of something.
Everything was fine till evening, when news came that a neighbor, who was also the secretary of the local committee, has passed away. The scheduled cultural program was stopped midway, decision was taken to postpone the community lunch planned for the next day, and dad set off towards the office building to pay his homage. And my usual queries about life and its uncertainties came up once again. My usual fear took me in its grip.
Next day, I had planned to leave early in the morning with my parents and go pandal hopping. We actually managed to cover almost 200 km in the first 3 days itself. Despite the exhaustion, I felt elated. Though I haven't yet even so much as touched the steering wheel of my car, I was happy that I was finally being able to give my parents the convenience and comfort I so desired for them. I knew it is a pseudo sense of satisfaction, but I still wanted to bask in it. May be that was what urged my to write this eulogy to all my near and dear ones, as a comment to my car post on FB. I did manage to mention Meenu, and she replied too (a reply that made me understand two facts at the same time, she misses me too, and there's no way the gap can be bridged), but I terribly missed my two boyfriends, whom I couldn't even mention. Andy anyways is not on my friend list, and Boo is an unmentionable, even if he's still there (though I haven't checked lately). I also realized who are the so called jealous people (mostly from my school) who kind of vowed not to like the post. I felt anger and a sudden urge to abuse them for being such lowly beings, for acting away being what they are not (though I am using plural here, I am frustrated with that single friend of mine about whom I have written here, she recently caused Ananya a lot of grief and I am even more furious with her after that).
I don't know whether it was these negative emotions that sparked off the ill feelings. Ashtami came with all its glory, Pushpanjali and the community lunch, and the evening program on a traditional dance of Bengal (পুরুলিয়ার ছৌ নাচ) was much enjoyed, but then, after I returned home, depression was manifest in my mind. I couldn't fight it. I hurt myself even more. I so wanted a friend I could trust. I so wanted a husband. There was this curious incident on the 29th midnight ok. A college friend had pinged few days back on Whatsapp, and I just replied back to him. He seemed to be online and started chatting. He was like, when are you getting married. He made a passing remark about me having been one of the smartest girls in the college, so he couldn't understand why I am not able to get a suitable guy. He even joked about being available if I was not finding anyone else, but I caught his lie and he admitted to being married. It was just fun, my college mates used to be like that, lighthearted about everything. I didn't really feel bad, but perhaps I did. I feel bad that there's no one on whom I can rely, nobody who cared to wait for me, or take my whims in their stride and still keep loving me. You know, as we were turning the road and entering our locality with the new car from the showroom, I saw the banker guy crossing the road. I didn't want to see his face that day, but well, all the major work had already been done. I still felt so bitter, I can't explain. He's such a mismatch for me, and still, all thanks to the arranged marriage concept, I was ok about even this guy, but he turned me down. They say, perhaps God has better things in store...yes of course, just that, I don't have more patience left in me, neither any bit of hope.
The next day the fever started. I haven't cried yet, no. I know that the key is to accept the situation and not fight it. But, oh, how I do want to fight it. I don't like this life, I don't want it. I never wanted it, I never visualized myself to be a spinster on the verge of 35. I don't want so much of responsibility and loneliness. The imminent need of learning to drive confidently presses on me. An inner voice who is so accustomed to doing things on her own, tells me, oh come on, just do it. but I feel old and reluctant. কতটা পথ পেরোলে তবে পথিক বলা যায়...I ask myself.
I don't think I'd have recovered, had it not been for the dream I saw this morning. The only person with whom I shared a guileless bond of love came in my dreams. He showed me his new phone, made me listen to songs he loves, way he used to do seven years ago. My bossie. Yes, he talked to me for a long time, small, irrelevant things, and managed to cheer me up. But then, what's there in a dream. A dream is never a reality, right?
I don't want to go to Bangalore. I bought tickets mainly because I wanted to meet Anitha and her kid, and also Bindhu, before her marriage. But I am scared to travel and stay alone. I am scared of the memories Bangalore might evoke. But having 10 days of continuous, worry free holiday is also something rather rare. Still it doesn't really excite me. I am too much in a pensive mood to care for any prospective happiness.
Crux of the matter is that I am unhappy. It has always been my policy to allow myself to do whatever I want. I wanted to rejoice on FB. I put up this freshly taken photograph of my car, along with a hugely photoshop-ed photo of the car keys (I adjusted the brightness and contrast and removed the background), early Tuesday morning. Monday went unexpectedly well. I managed to wear a saree and reach office without any hindrance, dad stayed back home to deal with the bank problem (they refunded the money by the way - but didn't explain the cause of the lapse, I guess dad didn't press), we went to the car showroom, took the car, did puja and brought it home safely, and distributed sweets - everything was perfect. Tuesday, I woke up early in the morning on my own accord, and amid attending calls, chatting on Whatsapp, and other sundry jobs, I was editing the images on photoshop, imagine how much energy I had. After that, took bath and got ready in a jiffy, and set off to pick up my bro from the airport. And then it started raining really heavily. It has rained more when I have been with other friends in their cars, but I have never been so apprehensive. All the while the rain pelted on my car roof, I was quite out of my mind with tension. Everyone else tells me it is a wonderful car, which doesn't jerk or make any noise, but I can feel even the feeblest jerk and any untoward sound it produces. Perhaps these are the inevitable woes of being in "total possession" of something.
Everything was fine till evening, when news came that a neighbor, who was also the secretary of the local committee, has passed away. The scheduled cultural program was stopped midway, decision was taken to postpone the community lunch planned for the next day, and dad set off towards the office building to pay his homage. And my usual queries about life and its uncertainties came up once again. My usual fear took me in its grip.
Next day, I had planned to leave early in the morning with my parents and go pandal hopping. We actually managed to cover almost 200 km in the first 3 days itself. Despite the exhaustion, I felt elated. Though I haven't yet even so much as touched the steering wheel of my car, I was happy that I was finally being able to give my parents the convenience and comfort I so desired for them. I knew it is a pseudo sense of satisfaction, but I still wanted to bask in it. May be that was what urged my to write this eulogy to all my near and dear ones, as a comment to my car post on FB. I did manage to mention Meenu, and she replied too (a reply that made me understand two facts at the same time, she misses me too, and there's no way the gap can be bridged), but I terribly missed my two boyfriends, whom I couldn't even mention. Andy anyways is not on my friend list, and Boo is an unmentionable, even if he's still there (though I haven't checked lately). I also realized who are the so called jealous people (mostly from my school) who kind of vowed not to like the post. I felt anger and a sudden urge to abuse them for being such lowly beings, for acting away being what they are not (though I am using plural here, I am frustrated with that single friend of mine about whom I have written here, she recently caused Ananya a lot of grief and I am even more furious with her after that).
I don't know whether it was these negative emotions that sparked off the ill feelings. Ashtami came with all its glory, Pushpanjali and the community lunch, and the evening program on a traditional dance of Bengal (পুরুলিয়ার ছৌ নাচ) was much enjoyed, but then, after I returned home, depression was manifest in my mind. I couldn't fight it. I hurt myself even more. I so wanted a friend I could trust. I so wanted a husband. There was this curious incident on the 29th midnight ok. A college friend had pinged few days back on Whatsapp, and I just replied back to him. He seemed to be online and started chatting. He was like, when are you getting married. He made a passing remark about me having been one of the smartest girls in the college, so he couldn't understand why I am not able to get a suitable guy. He even joked about being available if I was not finding anyone else, but I caught his lie and he admitted to being married. It was just fun, my college mates used to be like that, lighthearted about everything. I didn't really feel bad, but perhaps I did. I feel bad that there's no one on whom I can rely, nobody who cared to wait for me, or take my whims in their stride and still keep loving me. You know, as we were turning the road and entering our locality with the new car from the showroom, I saw the banker guy crossing the road. I didn't want to see his face that day, but well, all the major work had already been done. I still felt so bitter, I can't explain. He's such a mismatch for me, and still, all thanks to the arranged marriage concept, I was ok about even this guy, but he turned me down. They say, perhaps God has better things in store...yes of course, just that, I don't have more patience left in me, neither any bit of hope.
The next day the fever started. I haven't cried yet, no. I know that the key is to accept the situation and not fight it. But, oh, how I do want to fight it. I don't like this life, I don't want it. I never wanted it, I never visualized myself to be a spinster on the verge of 35. I don't want so much of responsibility and loneliness. The imminent need of learning to drive confidently presses on me. An inner voice who is so accustomed to doing things on her own, tells me, oh come on, just do it. but I feel old and reluctant. কতটা পথ পেরোলে তবে পথিক বলা যায়...I ask myself.
I don't think I'd have recovered, had it not been for the dream I saw this morning. The only person with whom I shared a guileless bond of love came in my dreams. He showed me his new phone, made me listen to songs he loves, way he used to do seven years ago. My bossie. Yes, he talked to me for a long time, small, irrelevant things, and managed to cheer me up. But then, what's there in a dream. A dream is never a reality, right?
I don't want to go to Bangalore. I bought tickets mainly because I wanted to meet Anitha and her kid, and also Bindhu, before her marriage. But I am scared to travel and stay alone. I am scared of the memories Bangalore might evoke. But having 10 days of continuous, worry free holiday is also something rather rare. Still it doesn't really excite me. I am too much in a pensive mood to care for any prospective happiness.
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