Thursday, March 5, 2015

The talk time - that mustn't get over...

I am feeling terribly strange today. Really really strange. When I was returning from the university, the car had to swerve along the front gate of SRFTI, given the ongoing metro constructions. And I distinctly saw him, laughing along with a crowd of friends (or admirers?) and walking out of the gate. One of my ex-crushes.

Flashback 29-October-2013. I had gone over to HDFC bank, Santoshpur branch, to open a joint account with dad. I was pissed off with ICICI. It was one month of unemployment…I was not that terribly upset. Still had a mind for the subtle joys in life. Dad was worried about how I’d return home from there (my dad!)…and the car was still 11 months away. He got me into an auto and left for his office. The auto broke down in front of SRFTI. I got down. The auto driver apologized profusely. There were two other gentlemen who were traveling with me and constantly discussing how autocratic the government in a neighboring country is (they shoot right away, take the accused in a stadium and shoot them, with people watching…) – they felt similar things should happen in India to check corruption. The two “righteous” uncles got down and walked off without paying the fare. I paid him the full fare (shoot me). My house was anyways walking distance. I ducked from the speeding vehicles on EM Bypass and looked back at SRFTI…and gave one of my characteristic romantic smiles. At the same moment I hit myself on the back of my head playfully – the ever incorrigible me. Told myself…even this could be another reason I came back to Kolkata?

Even then I didn’t know…even now I don’t know…the real reason why I came back. All I know is that there must be some reason. Something inexplicable. Something very very complicated. 

Because the fact remains that I didn’t meet him at the right time. I couldn’t save him from the agony he never deserved. And frankly, had I met him at the right time, (may be on that day, near the bank, or on my way to Jadavpur...I have thought about it a bit...we did coexist in the city, with similar broken hearts even then...) – he wouldn’t have cared for me even the wee little bit that he cares now. For I am too insignificant compared to him. Our sufferings bring us together, otherwise we are no match for each other. Our sufferings, that we got to know are similar...because we finally met...albeit at the wrong time...at a time which couldn't reverse anything any more. Then, need we have met at all? I wonder. I have no answer to that. I'm just happy that we met.

He gives me the luxurious sense of feeling contented. A gentleman who himself is right now at his all-time low spirits. And whose presence in my life is through a couple of lines he writes to me very sparingly. But with this mere “lack of absence” he induces in me something very close to exaltation. He says he cares for me, but not in as “special” a way as I expect. Do I expect anything from him? The answer is a purely uncomplicated “NO”. Least of all, to be treated specially. For you see, way he interprets it, “specially” means “pitifully”. No, I am happy the way he treats me. A casual acquaintance, probably even lesser, but still he treats me with respect, honesty and transparency. The virtues that I never got from the people who boasted of loving me. “Never thought that I’d get such a fair girl”, “you’re the most intelligent girl on earth”, and then dump and never look back. No man, I don’t need to be special. Never again in this life time. Thank you very much. Just be my friend. That will do…

At times, a little bit of talk time means a lot…

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