Once again at crossroads

So dear girl, how does it feel? To go through the same motions one more time? To beg, to cry, to get mauled down by insensitivity and to be left helpless? In 2013 you had made some promises to yourself. But no, the wretched you couldn't stop trying...to get a life. A proper girl's life. As if all success lies in being allowed to love a man and be a part of his life. The world has progressed but you couldn't. From 2009 to 2017, it's been 8 years now. Your happiness still doesn't depend on you alone. How did you think protesting would help? If something is dead you can't bring it back to life.

Lifelessness is going to be your way of life. Accept your fears. You can't have a friend to share them with. Everyone is too busy. Just accept your loneliness and the rest of the things won't be easy but you'd be able to deal with it. Don't love baby, don't love.

The unfinished story...

10-June-2017
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Today I finally feel like writing. Yes I am working round the clock 7 days a week and I'm overworked, be it hobby, organizational abilities, studies or mundane office work. Over that there's the stress of a tumultuous personal life. But still today I finally feel sane. Sane enough to realize in my veins a feeling called "subtle bliss". All this while I could hardly register what was happening, I was so dazed. So never mind the fact that I have to wake up tomorrow early morning and rush to the big data class, and then evening there's drama rehearsal followed by a meeting with the Durga Puja committee (I'm assistant to the cultural secretary - who's my music teacher and friend) - I must write today.

May be I won't be able to finish it today - it's a long anecdote, but I shall at least get started. And can we please liberate my blog again? Because the only person I was scared of and hiding it from - has apparently lost his scarecrow image.

I can mix up incidents, lose track and destroy continuity. But the lapses can be forgiven. Because it's a real fairy tale. The human race is adept in concocting imagined fairy tales. A real one seldom happens - and has never been documented in a perfect way. Perfection created by God cannot be overwritten.

Yes I got back my faith in God.

21-June-2017
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Yes, that's my condition. It's difficult for me to write. I keep blaming him. First your mails and then this impossibility. But all the more, because it is impossible, does it need documentation, right?

So it all probably started on 10th May. It was a full moon day, the birthday of Lord Buddha. A holiday when we had to work. I still believe that it was that day (and night) which rolled the dice into action. Despite all our planning of getting seats beside each other on the flight to Delhi, our self-imposed barriers would not have been broken had it not been for the tumultuous and extreme emotions that rocked us throughout the day.

In the near future, when he'd take me by storm in some very different way, I'd silently enjoy the torture while reflecting in my mind that may be I've been made for this man, because I've cried involuntarily and helplessly in his grief, forgetting my own selfish sorrows...

July 3, 2017
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OK so I write again. What is it with the movie Hasee toh Phasee? We had an amazing time and great food on 10th May. I was trying to convince myself that I can do anything to help him in any way. Hence I was super polite to the particular crush of his and was making every effort of talking with her and making her comfortable. I liked her once. She understood my love in a way. When I'd write stupid Facebook posts on the "funeral party" or how I am বিধাতার সৃষ্টির অপব্যয় - she'd often be the only person to like the post. But afterwards she had changed so much due to her pseudo ambition and then how on earth can you like someone who is occupying your place in the mind of the man you love? So I just play acted probably but I did even that with a lot of honesty. I wanted him to get a proper closure but that was not the main thing. I was lost in my own happiness. I looked pretty, wore long large earrings and spent an almost entire day with him. And there was more to come. I was dreaming off with যৌবনসরসীনীরে when reality struck. His first mail in the evening came in. I didn't think much. I thought that he'd be in a similar state of mind as me and probably tell me that he's happy too. I was just not prepared for the content of the mail. I again feel that excruciating pain, total sinking of the heart and knowing one more time that I don't count in this person's life. He was heartbroken on saying probably the final goodbye to his muse and there was actually no closure, instead the event was wrenching out the grief of more than a year that had been accumulating in him ever since she turned down his proposal. But the tragedy was elsewhere. He said he's grateful that I'm his friend. He couldn't have expressed this to anyone else. He ended up the rant by saying that I am awesome. যৌবনসরসীনীরে seemed like a joke. I sent him the extended cut of the Manchala song from Hasee toh Phasee. Writing uptill this almost 2 months later was so painful that it has drained me. I shall write sometime later.

25-July-2017
---------------------

Today he went to Mumbai. The long distance phase of our relationship probably starts from today. Or maybe not. He was perhaps always my long distance love? At office I used to meet him once in a while and wished in my heart of hearts that even that didn't happen. He wished the same I guess. Our subconscious always knew the effect we have on each other. Better not to make it prominent.

It all seems like a dream now. The entire evolving of our friendship. The mails. The picnic. The Australia trip getting canceled on April 8th. My long meeting with the joint faculty coordinator on 10th April. He consenting to air tickets for the entire team. The Delhi trip was scheduled for 11th May. I secretly got adjacent seats for us. That was my only wish. That I'd spend 2 hours sitting beside him. I'd live my life in those two hours. I never hoped for more. Not that I didn't dream - I'm a Sagittarian after all. Before I told him about the Simla trip that we had planned along with the Delhi trip, I did dream a little that we'd travel together and chat a bit. But then when I told him he said he wouldn't come. He had planned a Benaras trip for himself - for soul searching. I didn't mind. Life has taught me to be practical. Those two hours in the plane kept me going. And a selfie may be? Of just the two of us? When I had cropped our picture from the group photo taken at a colleague's marriage, I had silently prayed to God to at least get me one selfie where I wouldn't be with anybody but him. I could never forget that the images I cropped so lovingly from that marriage album, thinking that he stood beside me on purpose, was but an accident. He didn't choose to stand beside me, it just happened. I had been stupid to dream and interpret his inclination towards me. He was focused on someone else. I just wanted God to let him be with me - only me, for a bit. And a picture would perpetuate the moment...

The mind meanders. It's difficult to make it walk on a single track. Not that there was no difficulty. When I told him we'd get seats together, he gladly agreed. But the next day he pinged me on Whatsapp. His ego was at play. He couldn't understand how he asked me to buy his seat beside me. I remember that tensed discussion. He nudging me a bit to look inside my mind and sort out the complications. I, only focusing on my cherished 2 hours. I can't let it go at any cost. The chat went on to become so severe that we both decided not to chat again on Whatsapp. To think how you have to eat your words at times...

The month went by rapidly - in equal quantities of apprehensions, excitement of waiting for something good to happen and the hectic work schedule. And then came 10th May and his numbing outburst. It took away everything. Everything. All my dreams. Not that there were many. I very well knew the impossible situation of my love story. I never demanded much and was grateful for whatever little came my way. And oh how I love that man...I have never known love so strongly.

11th May was a morning when I woke up with tears in my eyes. I have gone asleep crying but I don't remember another day in my life when I had woken up crying. I'm not that good a writer that I can explain or express the pain in words. My dream of spending two hours with the person I love dearly and hungrily, had completely lost it's purpose.

But there's always this little girl inside me who seeks fun despite everything. The girl wouldn't give up. I remember buying a bangle. A multicolored bangle to go with my pink dress. On my way back from office. Came back. Got ready. Wore blue. His favorite color. I was supposed to pick up him and another friend in my car after his exams. He had written to me in the morning that he'd give me a call. But as expected, his friend called. He was and still is very skeptical about calling me. We reached the meeting point and his friend took the front seat. He came and sat beside me. I don't know if the hormones or pheromones started their play at that precise moment. As a girl I felt it nice that my legs were touching his jeans. Also I quite enjoyed the way he and my dad were getting along well.

18-August-2017
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To begin with it was not pre-planned that I'll write on this date. But coincidence or whatever, since this has happened, let me also try and finish this never-ending anecdote. I want my blog to live again. I need it to vent out again about life's atrocities and revel in the number of countries I've reached out to. And hence obviously I can't write everything I wanted to write. But yes the miracle happened, gradually and lustfully. There was only care, understanding and happiness in the coveted two hours of togetherness in the flight. Actually my luck was extended a bit when the flight kept circling above the airport for almost an hour more for some weather or operational reason. The winning streak continued when he sat beside me in the car on our way to the hotel. And after we were done with the check in formalities, the first strike of lust happened when he was heading towards his room in the 2nd floor whereas I went in my ground floor room. For the first time we were sleeping literally in the same building...and we were getting separated after spending the whole evening together. Even my long time wish of getting a photo of just the two of us had been fulfilled by him. We had taken so many selfies that he later made an animation out of those and shared with me. But the fatigue overcame the lust. And so far as I was concerned I ignored the lust because it was never important. Not then at least.

31-August-2017
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The other day I was frustrated because I was entering a password and the site was giving me an error repeatedly. It was based on our first date and I couldn't believe that I have forgotten it already... Have we entered the regular phase of our relationship, where nothing causes much excitement anymore? I can't comment on that. But the other day he said something which filled me with a peaceful serenity...that he'd give me a gift with the first salary he'd get from the new company he's joined. 

4-November-2017

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I couldn't finish my love story. I couldn't write about the warm moments and the darkest episodes. I just set it free today. If it has to happen it will happen... 

PS - I need my blog back in these difficult times. This uncertainty is killing me...I need to vent out. I need to be comforted that someone out there is listening. Otherwise I might not be able to sustain this period. I know good times will come soon. Even if it never comes, let this piece of my thoughts go on even after I cease to be...

A prayer

Dear God, I am facing death and I don't want to die yet. I am not at fault here. You have given me blow after blow and I've tried to stay afloat. You gave every kind of happiness to people who wronged me and every kind of sorrow to me. I did not complain. I just concentrated on staying alive. Today you made me hear from my most beloved person that he doesn't love me. I still remained steady. Now you are taking away my job too. The mask under which I was trying to be socially acceptable. How much do you think I can tolerate? I am going to kill myself if you don't stop your atrocities now. And nobody but you will be responsible. Don't be so one sided. Give me some happiness in life otherwise why did you create me?

Sleeping alone...

D'bhai, this is the last time I am going to write something that I've been trying to tell you for ages. I even wrote it in bits and pieces in a very cryptic language and then later forgot to save it even, let alone post it. I blamed him for this - I tell you everything these days and so my blog has lost its importance.

I think a lot of things. How will it feel like when I have to again start living without his presence in my life. With only these worries, to do lists, movies, books, songs, and...memories...only memories...

Last night, after reading his mail, I didn't feel like replying. I just wanted to dwell on it and enjoy the residual happiness. He smiling at my strange ideas of unrequited motherhood - the dearest of my secrets. 

I heated the food, served dinner, washed the utensils and continued with my nighttime beauty routine, all the time, going on thinking about him, us, and our dreams and dilemmas; I didn't commit a lot of mistakes in my regular chores, albeit I put on my day cream instead of night cream. A very small thing right? I just looked well made up in the middle of the night. But I was plump, old and definitely not a lovelorn teenager, what I feel like these days. 

And not a teenager who can be loved by him. Who can expect him to fall in love with her. So much nearness, so much sharing, such understanding - maintaining secrets together. This creates a bond right? What is the definition of that bond?

I don't know D'bhai. All I know is that I can't sleep alone and I have to sleep alone. I can't dare sleep with anybody else because I'm afraid that I'd mumble his name in my sleep. I fall asleep with his thoughts and wake up to them. While I sleep I belong all the more to him. I tell myself all the time to feel detached but God knows how crazy I am for him. I think unthought of things about us, things I've never ever felt for any other man.

But I'm grown up now right? If not now then when? I'm grown up and matured. So I know I can't do anything about this. My hands are tied. I have to take all my love, longing, lust and faith to my grave. Sorry, funeral pyre.

My music man...

Being naughty has become a way of my life ever since you came in my life. I have never ever been naughty in my life. Andyman toh was boring - I always did everything he asked me to do, almost always against my wish (from cooking to movie watching and you know what all) - bossie was the "good" guy, and I was also ideal with him - not only that he was ideal, but ya he bossed too. Who else have I been in love with? Ohhh the one who married the long toothed girl. Well he was (IS) crap personified - and no I haven't been naughty with him either.

This apparently innocent sad person makes me go wild. Raving wild. I can do anything for him. I do madness, he does madness and we don't stop each other. If we're not in love thank God we're not. The world couldn't handle so much madness. And if we are in love then God help the world around us. For I guess we wouldn't care much for its well being.

রবিঠাকুর would wake up some day and find me dancing with DJ waale babu. He'd be like - girl you learn to sing my songs right? I'd be like - yeah sir but you see I also love a dude who's in a love/hate relationship with Badshah...

For an eternity...

It somehow broke my heart D'bhai. Yes this is an ethereal feeling. To be loved, respected, appreciated, indulged, and not be judged. But it's heart breaking to realize that that will be all. I am never gonna get more than that. And it kills me to know and realize every moment just how much I love this person with my entire body and soul. And in the same breath I realize that there's gonna be no culmination.

I don't know what's there to write about it. I don't even have the strength of mind to alienate myself from him. From my comfort zone. From my dreams - stupid never say die dreams of a life fruitful in some way. He's the nicest person I have met till date. Given a chance I'd never let go of him.

But then life's never a fairy tale. At least not mine. So "hindrances" happen. Or rather reality strikes. Some day when I meet God I shall ask Him why He didn't make anyone for me, and yet made me the type that yearns for love...

Useless...

When he doesn't write back to me I often murmur under my breath and say, "you're useless :("...

Yes I find it extremely sexy. And I'm finally writing the word. I find it sexy to tell him true things about me and him. Way he does too. Like he's been telling me that he stalks people including me and given a chance he'd follow me everywhere. So I told him too. That I stalked him once and now I'm trying to grow out of the habit (you don't need to stalk your only pen friend, do you?)...A while back if I grew impatient I'd check his last online time on WA. But now I have stopped doing that. I don't need to keep a tab on him. সবার শেষে যা বাকি রয় তাহাই লব...

And then I get a bit worried. Is it really possible? Does love really happen or I'm just making things difficult and uncomfortable for him?

I guess it's the latter. Because this impossible love cannot really be reciprocal in nature. In fact I had almost rejected it if truth be told. And then, although he's different from the general mold of men, he is a man after all. So it is not difficult to understand him. And I get it that it's the same bossie syndrome, love you a lot but don't love in that way. And I always feel like offlining my blog. I feel like even telling him, thank God that you don't follow me on my blog. On the other hand, the other day when he told me that he had cried watching Chak De, it was difficult to resist myself from sending him my review of Chak De. It'd be suicidal you see. Given a choice I'd never let him know just how much he means to me...

One more thing. I hate going to office. I hate talking to people. Given a chance I'd stay curled up on my bed all day and just write to him and read up things. I hate my responsibilities and interactions with the society in general. I don't know if he has cured my depression or only just aggravated it. I am not happy with the dreams I see these days. They are on how people are causing me distress or showing me down. My students who apparently think that I was not supposed to set the question I did, my friends and colleagues who are just trying to take advantage. I'd better stay aloof and not try to prove myself to anyone. And I don't want to cling on to him either. I don't want to be anyone's liability. I don't want to be parasitic - though he calls it symbiotic. But that's just his goodness. I am not of any use to anybody...

To HPS, but not today ;)

You know I will write today's entry to you. Open letter. Because, you're so mean in giving clues...you never said you've watched the movie, you didn't even say that the other song was also from the movie...not a word...so mean...

And you know what's the biggest problem in my life right now? It's about how I want to wear pink all the time and I simply do not have enough pink dresses...

And you know what I did as the movie got over? I listened to the song once more on Youtube and it finally showed the stupid airtel ad. Idiot, ads don't come synced up with songs...what's showing to you won't show to me...there's a lot of AI going in...stupid AI...it's called BI actually (show off)...

And as I listened to the song, you know what I remembered? That day in 2012 when I again went back to office after a month's leave. How, my parents and I clutched each other and I recited the poem...
that roughly translates to -

Don't say again that you can't do this,
Think once more why you can't do this...
What 5 other people can, you can also do...
Even if you can't do it, just try once more...
If once more doesn't suffice, try a hundred times...

And I left home to catch the early morning flight, and when I reached Bangalore, the roads seemed alien, and I had to call a friend outside to accompany me inside the office because I dared not go in alone, and then another friend came in and said - she's proud of me, and I've been so brave...

And you know...because I had been that brave, do I have you in my life now...nothing comes free, and I love you. I love you blindly...and right now nothing else matters to me :)

Tears...

Love stories in reality are always painful - never happily ever after. As the song goes...jaane woh kaise log tthe jinke pyar ko pyar mila...

But you know - what pains the most? When one's beloved is her most trusted friend - who's equally hurt as she is, and equally helpless, hopeless and heartbroken - and he chooses to share that pain with her in very good faith...yet he has no idea how much the girl he's confiding to loves him, and that she loves him in exactly the same way he hopes someone would love him, but there's no way she can tell this to him, and moreover to cover up her love from being discovered ever, she has made him promise never to misunderstand her, and he has told her that he won't - until she hits him with a brick or a hammer.

I don't know what is hammer enough for you...but I promise that I will try not to be jealous of your happiness if God ever makes you happy. In fact I am not someone very large hearted, but I actually want you to be extremely happy, even at the cost of my tears. 

At least...honey, I told you most of the things I wanted to tell. Not my mistake if you didn't hear me properly enough to understand...

Something different...

Ok I am writing here today because I wanna give him some break (SwiftKey suggested breakfast)...whatever.

It's not necessary that I tell him every single thing. But I haven't experienced a consistently happy life in time immemorial, na? So it is important for me to document it.

So I saw this strange dream last night. I was teaching digital logic in some new place and lots of senior people were there to evaluate my teaching. And after the class I found them murmuring - she teaches only what she understands well, not what is recommended...

Well the thing is true in a way. I can't teach things I don't understand (there's no point pretending in the class and spreading false information, right?)...but so far as digital logic is concerned, I kinda understand the subject entirely. Digital logic, computer organization, these are like part of my assimilated knowledge. So I found the murmuring a bit insulting. Who doesn't know that old men might be insecure about a dynamic young lady (I was described thus during the HR interview of my first MNC - which was again taken by an old man)

Well the dream didn't end there. In the evening after I return home he calls me. I don't see him in the dream. I just hear that sleepy heavy voice which I find so sexy (the other day he sent me a song which had a car...the car looked absolutely sexy, but I couldn't write the word to him...I ended up telling him something lame like - the car looked wow)...

So apparently in the dream he advises me to install some new app to take care of "our communication". I resist and say I am fine with emails. He starts lecturing me - have you checked your mailbox size - soon it will be full...you better install this app. What a weird dream...

So I wanted to tell him about this dream. But then I can't stay detached from something that'd stay with me all my life (my blog) for someone who might not last even a few months (him). I better take my blog offline, otherwise, if he ever reads it he'd be this series of rolling eyes smiley...

The code language love story...

What's happening D'bhai? And why are such things happening? This joy is not meant for me...this doesn't suit me...everything's gonna come apart all of a sudden and I will go into depression all the more...

But oh but, the hopeless me, the so called virgin me, at least I got to experience the various facets and colors of the thing called love. And flirting. But can I accuse my mirror image of flirting?

I wake up telling myself that we are friends. Entire day - while doing the daily chores, I keep convincing myself about this. We must remain friends, that's how I can save this relationship and probably perpetuate it. And of course both sides indulge in the occasional friendly flirting...that's not banned you know...

Then late at night, tired, I put out the lights and can't wait to fall in his arms. He too, it seems in that unformed dream, has that urgent need, as if time's slipping through his fingers too...like sand...and he's equally impatient as me - what will happen of us? Why did we fall in such a strange kind of love which can't even be allowed to exist?

A 100 miles...

চিঠির গোছায় ফুলের সাজ,
রঙের ছোঁয়া লাগলো আজ।
বন্ধুতাটাই লাগছে ভালো...
ভালোবাসায় কি বা কাজ?

খেলাঘর বাঁধতে লেগেছি আমার মনের ভিতরে - was always clear in the back of my mind - but what is this খেলাঘর? Something that has hundreds of inhibitions...in fact hardly anything apart from writing letters is allowed. We can't tell publicly that we are friends, we hesitate, actually are almost reluctant to even come across each other...in a moment of need we won't be able to wipe each other's tears, except through an uncertain and asynchronous medium called email. So much for the friendship. And for love - it begins and ends with one word - unmentionable...

That's how life moves on. Every scientist thrives for that one invention that will change the world. I am no scientist. My interest area was always man-woman interdependence. And I have reached this far. This man is now my world - he was so in a virtual way for quite some time now - I hope to God that it doesn't become more real than what it is now...I can spare the surrealism...

Moonstruck...

Dear tiny fluttering fragile heart of mine, please understand that a song is a song is a song...and don't break into shards...

She...who wanted her dreams to be true...that's all she ever wanted in life. Everything else was "material pleasure" to her.

She is forced to believe that a bubble is an unstable entity that bursts. Yet this perfect, transparent, multicolored bubble, that she has been creating all on her own, with great care, suddenly got someone else's magical touch. And the muggles said, it is magic, it doesn't exist...

But the happiness, unfounded happiness, was palpable...can a non-existent falsehood ever bring so much happiness?

I live in a nowhere land right now...I don't exist, my dreams don't exist, love doesn't exist, but then what makes me beautiful? What makes me connect with music again? Authentic Indian classical music by ARR and lyrics penned by who other than Gulzar saab?

Thank you God for this one night of baseless bliss, against all the grief you've given me. Thanks for creating good people on earth. Thanks for creating someone who's like me...my mirror image...

My sunshine...

What a Valentine's day I had. I can't write about it anywhere else apart from this stupid blog of mine. I received a surprise, unexpected, untimely mail (it was almost 11, and I've strictly forbidden him about mailing me during office hours)...so it was a tiny mail ok...he's written much larger mails to me...but that one mail had so many stuffs with which stories can be written...

1. About a kiss, that too an attempt at drunk kissing that caused pandemonium supposedly at a wedding
2. About solitude (I still didn't understand the meaning - our friendship doesn't make him strange or gloomy, it makes him crave for solitude? Should I be happy or sad about it?)
3. A song, rather, "a lovely song"

I don't know how so many stories came up? Have I created all of them? May be...I don't have much other work, right? This, writing categorical point-wise (auto correct suggests me pointless) mails, our PS, PPS, PPPS, our curious, irrelevant attachments, our similar types of eccentricities...is everything my creation?

Is that my creation too, when I felt this soul connection? I read up the article yesterday - Bliss, punctuated...;), after it struck me that he's sent me the same song. It had taken me so long to understand that these are songs that he puts up as WA status. I thought those were written by him because mine were made up by me only. For once I even felt scared - has he discovered this crazy blog of mine? Finally like the honest good girl that I am with him, I confessed that I liked the song but didn't understand it. I also told him that I don't like songs nowadays. No song appeals to me...

But then, when I came to office today, still feeling dizzy and unwell, and quickly finished the work and then got some me time, I started surfing this song and that...and then I did come across one song...the version of Manchala that was used in Hasee toh Phasee climax...particularly that part when the girl sings - "meri hai ajeeb aadatein, kuchh khudgarj chahatein, har jasbaat phir bhi masoom hai...tu hai mera bhor"...

So...were they all stories? That through his WA status he actually responds to my own status...the biggest story of them all, that he loves me too? Way I love him...Can that ever be real?

We get these games na, in FB? Who is your best friend, who is your soul mate etc...I loved playing these games - because it'd be based on FB data, and FB was the place na, where our unfounded love was born...so one of these games went thus who would try to kiss you on new year's eve? I as usual took a screen shot of him as the identified kisser and that was the end. Except that yesterday I really felt like sending him that picture. "Look what this says"...he wouldn't mind. By now we are fast friends. But still I hesitated. You know why...right?

Yes, truth is stranger than fiction - and stories within stories within stories are all fictions, they never come true...

The story...

I will write this slowly, taking my time. Because you see, I have not a thing to do in my life. As the wind shifts from being warm to being chilly, so that one wonders whether it's winter or spring, I lie on my bed and write this.

Have I told him everything yet? I wonder. Was it not a bit sudden? Will we ever go back to the old days again? Did I at all like being his friend? Was this whim a mere act of envy? Because at the end of the day I love him in a most possessive way. I could not take in his other interests and still continue being his friend...

Don't misunderstand me. I thoroughly enjoyed our friendship. It had almost become a ritual. I am a withdrawn person by nature, but way I always give a little time to my parents, my dogs and puppies, I gave a little time to him before retreating in my shell. I was not lying to him when I told him that I was almost happy doing that.

In fact I almost forgot my virtual love story under the dizzying influence of this real friendship. This quiet person lighted up my mundane world in such a way that anything beyond that seemed redundant.

But after all it's spring. I couldn't let my romanticism die a silent death. And frankly, when I am not loved enough, I won't be loved as a friend too, not for long anyways. A relationship between two people lives if there's a need from both of them. My best friend used to say that a bridge cannot be built from one end. It has to be constructed from both ends, has to cover equal distance and then merge midway.

Though I hoped against hope that I'd be important to him as well, I knew that I am not. Why be a beggar in a relationship? I refuse to be sad about this although I already know that I can never be happy. In fact I seek that abyss of death like never before. Now is the best time to end this life. I have just gotten rid of the only person who could have cured me. He had asked me once, "why do you think you don't deserve happiness? Why are you so harsh on yourself?"

Well he can now see things for himself...

PS - only when the tears well up, uninvited, time and again, repeatedly, embarrassingly, do I know that I am actually sad...

The broken heart...

That sapling,
The tiny, vulnerable, malnourished one,
Which nobody ever cared for,
Let alone nurture...
Born out of a thrown away seed,
While the fruit was consumed in greed,
Withered this evening, dried up beyond hope.
God was studying English classics.
Or at times, American ones.
He had been reading The Happy Prince,
And The Last Leaf to his angels...
And was telling them,
You won't find a broken heart,
A dead swallow, or a painted leaf,
In today's rotten world.
He was sitting in heaven,
Right above its personal hell, and,
Because God's voice reaches the devoted,
And in their hearts He dwells,
The dying sapling could hear Him;
It sighed, and said...
Why? Am I not dead yet?

PS - this poem has a history and a reason. I don't feel like telling the reason as yet. The history is what I confessed to my best friend when we were in college. That when love is born between man and woman, it is like a sapling. A baby tree who needs constant care, recognition and appreciation. At times one of the two is unaware of the love, often uncaring, or reluctant. Because people suffer from uncertainty, their minds change. Then the sapling dies. Uncared for, alone...

Self control and all that's bogus...

Self control is a pretty damned thing. But righteous human beings must practice it. I went through a roller coaster ride today. Some kids in my team just keep liking pictures randomly, pictures where all of us are tagged in...all teeth bared, and it'd hurt. It'd hurt not to find his existence. The existence of the man whose every footstep I have followed in the Facebook space for the last few months. And my friend list curiously shows one less friend. I know it's not him. I know that he hadn't unfriended me, just deactivated his account...and I try to find faith in his words, words that he specifically wrote to me - I am not going anywhere...yet, the optical illusion kills. I know almost all the pictures he has liked, the few pictures only he has liked or loved, and when I go to one such picture, it shows one love reaction, but when I click on it, it shows zero. I wait in vain for a letter, feel like confessing things to him, actually write the contents of this entry not in my blog but to him, and be done with it. But no, self control you must possess and practice. Screw বসন্তকাল...

Happy and mad...

Fairy tales be like this? Do they bring copious tears to dry eyes? And make you feel so carefree? It's such a relief to not have complications in life. You know, that small peephole of hope is what kills you. I am happy that it's not present. For the first time in my life I am happy that someone loves me but doesn't love in conformation to the definition of love. The only problem, so far as I can perceive, is that I can't possibly tell him about all the movies I like...Few Good Men, yes, Readers, no...

Today's Bee's birthday. I had a chat with her like old times...it felt good...

[2/3, 10:07 AM] Bee: Love who
[2/3, 10:07 AM] Me: A guy only bee. I haven't changed, I'm still straight. You seem to be busy. I suddenly felt as if we were chatting like old days. I'm quite happy bee
[2/3, 10:09 AM] Bee: Cool Dee
[2/3, 10:10 AM] Bee: So u getting married now
[2/3, 10:10 AM] Me: Giggles. No silly. Guy doesn't love me back. It's the usual story only. Nothing's changed
[2/3, 10:19 AM] Bee: Lol
[2/3, 10:20 AM] Me: I told you nothing's changed.

Fairy tale...

Celebrating 6 months of my admission to myself of the greatest madness, biggest blunder I have done in my life till date. Being in an impossible love story (more impossible, never thought that's virtually possible, than the navy guy or the scientist).

"I am in love with him. Amid the confusion and depression that has become a regular part of this life, I love him unabashedly. Because I need a bubble to survive. And I can't live without loving somebody. Nowadays I don't put the precondition that he has to love me back. Just that I have to like him, and he should be a bit like me.

I don't hope for a relationship at this stage of my life. I don't even hope about getting back my somewhat decent consolation prize of a career that I used to have 3 years back. I am bankrupt in every sort of way and I don't hope. Period."

So, six months down the line, I tell my niece - I am scared of getting more addicted if he writes to me because I already miss him when he doesn't write and if he keeps on writing he's bound to stop someday and then I'd miss him like hell.

My niece, in her wisdom of the great 18 years of age, retorts back - you are not scared hon, you are scarred. Maybe chessman will heal them...

I don't think he will - I don't have that lofty an expectation from life. But I rather like the way my fairy tale has shaped up in these six months...I don't know if I am really happy but at least it feels like happiness... :)

Questions...amid happiness...

Because I can't possibly write to him any more than I already have, even my over-filmy "ji le apni zindagi" self wouldn't permit that, I'm back to square one writing here. And I don't know what to write about. I don't even know if I actually like this situation. Perhaps, to be truthful, I don't. I am so habituated to have lived with myself and my thoughts all these days, that it feels a little strange even to peep out of the shell. If I ever revel in our newfound friendship this very shrewd self of mine would taunt me - why, you simply brought that about. There's nothing natural about it. Everything is concocted. And I am hurt at my own words. I don't even have the strength to argue with myself. I don't want to. I don't have a point to prove. To myself, to anybody else. I don't even feel anxious for him to write back to me. I might even be happy if he doesn't. Because this duality is confusing. The thing that I want to keep under the wraps looks very exposed if he writes to me regularly. And the instability of it is a bit depressing. Like if he writes, he's bound to stop some day. I don't want to live with that uncertainty. I am so tired of uncertainties...

So I am finally really truly happy with life. With my 3 pets, one lady doggy and two puppies, my "beloved" pen friend and my romanticism being rewarded in a strange way. I still feel like hiding my blog lest he discovers it somehow. How will he feel about what I write here. He knows my eccentricities and the split personality thingy. He's my psychologist after all. Still, will it be difficult for him to gulp this down? Will our friendship be affected? I don't know. I have always been depressed in my blog. And I've had terrible men in my life. Is it really possible that a man would finally be good to me and will understand me?

Changes and aspirations...

You know, insignificant, almost imperceptible changes. Like - I won't be lying down all the time when I am at home. Would be a little more interactive...slightly more mobile than I am usually. I wouldn't feel that void that I usually do, in that searing a way. I am a little more angry and little less given up.

I can't call myself happy, no, but maybe I am slightly more lighthearted. A little out of my usual depression, in the fact that I am at least, say, brushing my teeth regularly, twice a day :) throw in the occasional beauty routine and I quite fail to recognize myself...

A strange thing happened yesterday. Quite scary too. I was having two tumor kinda things in my armpits. I didn't want to see the doctor about that. I was nurturing it way I nurture my broken tooth, as a prospective tool that'd lead to my death. One of the tumors was swelling up and I almost felt happy about the imminent death. And strangely at the same time, its roots were drying up too. Yesterday evening it just got detached from the skin and fell off - a minuscule swelled up mass with a shriveled end. Quite a sight for someone who's never attended a biology lab. Before I could react, blood spurted out of the wound. Like a jet it streamed out. My God, was I shaken? Somehow with my common sense and by God's grace I stopped the blood. I came downstairs and put a bandaid. But till now I am getting the illusion that the wound will start leaking blood, although the area looks dry and healed and the bandaid firmly in place. So much for perceived death. And I get my healing touch by talking to him, albeit asynchronously. I feel, almost imperceptibly, that may be I don't want to die right now. Not before I see this apparent magic take a little bit more of a shape...

Yes, I don't know what's going on. This was the man I had fallen in love with and admitted to myself 6 months back. This was the man for whom I put mehendi on the entire length of my arms and dressed up in a lehenga and wore a maangtika. And now I find just a friend in the man. A friend who's given up on normal functioning once we reached this particular level of our friendship. There couldn't be a stranger incident. I definitely need to explore it before I die...

Happy death...

Ah, so where do we begin? I'm not even sure if I am ready to write anything...

May be the fact that I have accepted death - my death. May be this poem.

On the verge of death,
I finally find,
Happiness...
In the world unkind.

Highlights? To show him the dirtiest parts of our house, to listen to him play my favorite songs on the computer, to give him the gift I wanted to give - lest I die before his next birthday, or our relationship sours or whatever...and largely to enjoy the silence between us rather than the words. Why, I am not even sure anymore about whether I love him. I'm just sure that if I die now I shall die happily. In fact I so want to die...

Ah poetry...

Roses that are magically pink,
Wilt imperceptibly on the bedside table.
All the while my fate would wink,
The doctors comfort - now you are stable...
Dreams are colorful, till the dope
Won't work anymore, there's searing pain;
They inject more life, and more hope,
In the drip, and I want to get up again.
The end is near, I face the stairs,
The topmost step would lead to the moon.
Life is so strange, the pink rose glares -
And in my ears, death would croon...

No, I was lying to you when I told you that nobody loves me in a way I want and I have taken it in my stride. I haven't. Why don't people love me back in a way I want? When I love them in a way they can't even think of? Why am I so lonely? You made me cry today. I was so happy in my dream world. You destroyed it. You're also like the rest of them. I just crave for death.

Sensations...

In the ensuing blur,
That  we are, when we kiss,
I am him and he's me,
I can't decipher who is who...
If he's hunting me down, or merely -
Touching me delicately with his lips?
Whether it's goosebumps or lightning -
Through my body,
And there's no feeling in my knees,
Would I ever walk without holding onto him?
He who takes me by storm,
And makes me feel like warm honey,
As his love trickles along my soul,
Love, that's just another sweet agony.

That chunk of life which I have been living is ever diminishing in its dimensions. And death has already vandalized it beyond restoration. I am scared of facing tomorrow, oh wait - isn't it already today?

Comforting myself...

What's the worst that can happen? He goes out and finalizes his marriage plan when I am doe eyed, dreaming about him? Crap. Even that has happened, not once but twice in my life. Nothing affects me anymore. Bring it on.

And here's no question of these things. Concentrate on the impossibility of it all...

Faith? Patience? There are such words? No?

It's ok. You didn't commit an earth shattering mistake. Please. Don't feel humiliated. Just don't. It's not necessary. And you should also not generalize based on your past experiences. There might be another side to the story...

Dream. But don't hope...

You know something? There'd come a day when I'd learn to enjoy this void and ache in my heart. This vain vain wait, this desire for something that'd never happen.

Remember something honey - that tree would always need to be nurtured by both man and woman. The magic of love is shattered when any one of them lose faith in the spell...

Untold...

I don't know if you are interested in knowing what I want in form of love - and I am also not hell bent on elaborating - because bol to diya junooniyat mein, but I am not sure about what exactly I want. All I know is that it is difficult to get what I want.

May be simple honest love, may be flowers, may be understanding without having to tell. May be way you reach out to me even when we do not have a medium to interface.

The ankahee song from lootera, there's nothing like it. I love each and every word in it.

....

Does daybreak ever bring darkness?
The dark ink, now dried up, gives evidence of a story that remained untold...

Is spring ever the harbinger of autumn?
Does rain ever fall to express the discontent of the sky?
The leaves that fell from the branches, did they detach themselves without reason, all of them?

The canopy of dreams was a truth or a myth...
Who gently patted my forehead to steal away my sleep?
A story, untold, since time immemorial...lives on, silent...

....

And when your daughter tells you this - I guess you're not doing much of a mistake...

"What you guys have is beyond something that seeks a name...
It's way more precious than most of the other relationships, it's beautiful, it's a relationship where you don't need words to convey your emotions.
Just poetry and understanding."