Today the miracle finally happened...
There have been so many days you know, when I have been traveling to and fro in the "vast" expanse of my workplace, and wondering, why I don't happen to meet him ever. Because, you see, there have been so many instances, when, seated in the back seat of the car, dog tired, I have just closed my eyes to relax, and seen his smiling face (or curiously smelled tea when I have been to his premises, way Harry smelled Ginny's shampoo once, curious, because he likes coffee no, like me? Or may be people in his region can't do without that particular version of boiling tea in milk?!)...I have heard random people speaking in his dialect and longed to hear him amid the passing crowd. I never came across him on such days. I kept listening to tu jahaan main wahaan, but he never appeared in my time of need...(no that's wrong, he did...I should remember that he has a life too, a life that's quite unrelated to me, and quite stressful in its own way). And today, when there was a thousand things to be done, before the office would shut down for an 11 days' vacation, I come down to deposit my salary cheque, all confused, go up for the wallet, and again come down and go out, and as they say, the rest is history.
I wish this screen would be a drawing board. I could explain better. How my eyes (already big eyes) widened further, and then came the smile, and then the ease of speaking in his dialect (which is, through mere ill fate, kinda ingrained in me, I wonder if he ever ponders on this aspect)...
And then, like a stupid unreasonable child, the sudden impulse on a crowded road, to find out how I look...did I look presentable enough?
Miracles are always followed by more miracles. Today I completed 3 years of my stay in Kolkata. 3 years of embracing martyrdom, and learning to become a Phoenix. After I was finally able to post the last entry, I have kinda become reckless...I wrote my longest ever post on FB. And he followed our usual custom of কেন কিছু কথা বলো না? শুধু চোখে চোখে চেয়ে, যা কিছু চাওয়ার আমার, নিলে সবই যে... একি ছলনা!
I was mesmerized with my creation, and his (silent, wow so silent) response, and our fictitious love story became a banyan tree in my mind, as it often does...and after I came back to normalcy, there were more surprises awaiting me...his letter, wishing me for the festival (in larger fonts than the rest of the mail, mind you) and my once again unstoppable impulse, to respond, and then again respond for a second time. Garrulous is the word, probably...but why should he play with my sentiments, particularly in the middle of the night?
There have been so many days you know, when I have been traveling to and fro in the "vast" expanse of my workplace, and wondering, why I don't happen to meet him ever. Because, you see, there have been so many instances, when, seated in the back seat of the car, dog tired, I have just closed my eyes to relax, and seen his smiling face (or curiously smelled tea when I have been to his premises, way Harry smelled Ginny's shampoo once, curious, because he likes coffee no, like me? Or may be people in his region can't do without that particular version of boiling tea in milk?!)...I have heard random people speaking in his dialect and longed to hear him amid the passing crowd. I never came across him on such days. I kept listening to tu jahaan main wahaan, but he never appeared in my time of need...(no that's wrong, he did...I should remember that he has a life too, a life that's quite unrelated to me, and quite stressful in its own way). And today, when there was a thousand things to be done, before the office would shut down for an 11 days' vacation, I come down to deposit my salary cheque, all confused, go up for the wallet, and again come down and go out, and as they say, the rest is history.
I wish this screen would be a drawing board. I could explain better. How my eyes (already big eyes) widened further, and then came the smile, and then the ease of speaking in his dialect (which is, through mere ill fate, kinda ingrained in me, I wonder if he ever ponders on this aspect)...
And then, like a stupid unreasonable child, the sudden impulse on a crowded road, to find out how I look...did I look presentable enough?
Miracles are always followed by more miracles. Today I completed 3 years of my stay in Kolkata. 3 years of embracing martyrdom, and learning to become a Phoenix. After I was finally able to post the last entry, I have kinda become reckless...I wrote my longest ever post on FB. And he followed our usual custom of কেন কিছু কথা বলো না? শুধু চোখে চোখে চেয়ে, যা কিছু চাওয়ার আমার, নিলে সবই যে... একি ছলনা!
I was mesmerized with my creation, and his (silent, wow so silent) response, and our fictitious love story became a banyan tree in my mind, as it often does...and after I came back to normalcy, there were more surprises awaiting me...his letter, wishing me for the festival (in larger fonts than the rest of the mail, mind you) and my once again unstoppable impulse, to respond, and then again respond for a second time. Garrulous is the word, probably...but why should he play with my sentiments, particularly in the middle of the night?
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