Saturday afternoon analysis ;)

With every passing day I get more tired of my job. In direct contrast is the fun of staying in Calcutta and participating in events such as the book fair. The fun can't really be described in words. To understand it you need to be born in this city. Otherwise what's in a book, you can buy it anywhere. Why do I limp around for four long hours on a hurt toe from stall to stall and be amply happy about it?

The book fair resolution this time is that I shall religiously read all the books that I've bought. Whenever I see books, exhibitions, fairs, a mere book shop with that adorable smell of old / new books (the two smells being quite distinct from each other), I get on a buying spree. But I end up reading only 80% of my books - if the first few pages don't agree with me I tend to give up. I promise that this time I will show some more patience. As it is, these days I am maintaining a list of books I read, ever since I got my tab (Google Keep is another wonderful thing, only wish we could doodle there as well, you do doodle on your scratch pad...)

The social experiment with FB is making me even more tired. Hence hopefully it will stop now. I have logically analyzed. The main problem seems to be two - expectation and acknowledgement. In FB there's a sense of entitlement. I like your posts only if you like mine. And let alone FB, anywhere on the world, people lack the sense of acknowledging. E. g. I always say thank you after any transaction. I have often seen this startled look on the faces of general shopkeepers or service providers here, which tells me that they haven't ever been thanked earlier. The psychology goes like you sell or serve us, you make a profit or you get paid, why should I thank you? A lady in my office casually asked me that day, "whose marriage was it?" - apparently referring to the posts regarding my cousin brother's marriage that I had put up in FB. I didn't find any like from her, which makes perfect sense to me, why should she like some photos of which she doesn't even have a context? But FB presumes a like or a comment to be a measure for popularity, mere observation doesn't count - hence people get into a pact to live a well appreciated socially strong FB life, let's like each other's posts and make ourselves famous. And if you don't stand to gain you ignore. My gut feeling is that FB has some underlying logic to promote most liked posts instead of posts reflecting genuine thoughts. I had once posted a news article on a sick dog, for whose treatment an entire village had come forward and contributed, and it didn't receive a single like. Hence proved, a sick story of selfishness.

I should thank Saridon for being such a miracureol (miracle + cure all - as invented by the great Professor Shanku). One pain killer, and I was able to write this entry. Not only that, it's quite a doctor, I was thinking the reason for my headache is over exertion on the paining toe, but as soon as I had the medicine I sneezed several times and realized that I had got a cold as well :D The toe was really tortured and not at all tended to, after it got itself sprained on the stair case. I quite discovered that I am more of a Sudha Chandran prototype, I don't give up when I am hurt. I try to behave as if nothing has happened. That day I read a strange story in the newspaper. A guy had got run over by a train and lost his legs. While the police rescued him and were preparing to take him to the hospital, he observed to himself that what's the point in living on without the limbs, and threw himself under the next train, getting killed instantly. Escapism at it's height. But I chose not to comment. Some people simply don't have the fighting urge in themselves. And I myself can vouch that at times the depression is indeed overpowering, but nothing surpasses the joy of living. I had a grandfather who had a similar accident, and he never gave up on life. He got prosthetics fitted to both his amputated legs, and went on to do a government service earning not only money but a lot of respect from everyone. When he died of a heart attack, the last thing he said to his sister (my mom's mother) was that he wanted to live. I tell the same to myself. Since time is running out for me and probably I shall never have a child despite being perfectly healthy, I tell myself it's nothing more than lacking an essential component of life. Life itself is still there anyways. There's jealousy though, plain girlish envy of being denied a normal life - and I don't really want to fight that. If my hyperactive mind happens to think unholy things once in a rare while when I have nothing to do or don't feel like doing anything much, I don't chastise myself - e. g. for wondering on an idle afternoon about how many people are making love right now :D

As I walked around in the book fair yesterday, touching the books and feeling extremely contented, suddenly a pensive thought crossed my mind - why don't I find him anywhere? Then what's the point in living in this city? Why don't I just go back to my old job and at least revive my career. But then there's the happiness of playing with the dogs, seeing a bird pecking on my window, the claps I got after I presented my papers, the satisfaction of being able to take care of my parents and meeting my relatives from time to time. Don't know, as I keep telling Ananya, সবই মায়া :)