From sun to rain, from joy to pain...

It’s been raining a lot since last weekend. And as usual the rain makes me happy, except of course everyday troubles of managing a household – which I hardly knew earlier. Like there was no water – some problem with the bore well (actually the rain came as a boon because we could save up the rainwater in buckets and use that). Today finally the plumber came and mended things. I didn’t go to the university today. Not that I had a lot of supervision to do, in fact I slept off in the afternoon which cured my headache and the pain in my legs. If I come to think of it, it is a pretty cool life. The last project is over, the next project is yet to begin (though I am not 100% sure whether I’d be getting that project, general opinion is that I will get it) – and I am free enough to read Harry Potter every night till my eyes close in slumber. Today, after I woke up – I watched two full matches of IPL after a long time. I get ample time to read the newspaper end to end before I’d leave for work in the morning. In the rare occasions that I don’t manage that, I get back in the evening and make sure I finish the remaining bit of reading. This in addition to the messages my TOI app keeps sending. Back in Bangalore this was unthinkable. If at all I had less work, I’d probably get a little while to browse the net, but sitting back and reading the news in the paper format has its own vintage pleasure – and as you know, it is top priority for me to stay updated on the news. 

Meanwhile, I am enjoying the proposal work and I had two sessions of banking lecture already with my ex colleague (the same lady who once tried to boss me over and I fought with her and didn’t accept her as my manager). Well, given the fact that her banking knowledge can be described as very close to zero, I had a good time bossing her over (we should ask these questions, we should think about these bottlenecks and complicacies). And you know, I have a soft corner for my previous domain of expertise. It is not a very easy domain, and I have learnt it all on the job – so I understand it in a very functional way. Pity that it all will go to a waste only because of the lack of prospects in Kolkata. Really, it is such a dismal job market. Over that the socio political scenario is ever worsening. I quite find our current government to be a mini lady-Hitler governed Nazi in the making – you say one word against it and you are behind the bars and wash your hands off your career, reputation and general peace of life, whether you are a government official, a dignitary, an artist, a professor or a commoner (a mere morning walker or a farmer). I am scared of what would happen if this autocracy is not nipped in the bud. Talk about  একুশে আইন, you really won’t find a better example.

Given the apparently happy life, I was hugely upset yesterday. I finally gathered courage to speak to my colleague whose husband has recently been diagnosed with cancer. And as soon as I approached her desk, first thing she asked me was, “how’s your feet now? Wait, wasn’t it the right leg? It is still swollen…” I was awestruck with the simple fact that she is capable of asking this question despite her present mental condition. We had a long chat, whence she told me about how she has been lying to her husband all the while, whereas she is not a very good liar. She told me how he is suffering, how he is not able to eat despite being hungry, and how this has been going on ever since her husband had the bypass surgery 3 years back. One medical emergency after the other, and she is not exactly rich, she’s just in the support function in the university. She went on to say, may be God is trying to test just how much she could handle. Long after the conversation was over and I had returned home, I kept feeling restless. I just didn’t know how to react to such a heart wrenching manifestation of pain. I call myself an unhappy soul? Look at this lady who’s still fighting with all her might and won’t give in. Kudos to her courage – and a dumb petition to God, do You really need to do this?

This was yesterday. Day before yesterday, I spent a very enjoyable hour with Avik-da. He was passing the university campus, called me up and came over to meet me. It was kinda strange, to meet him 10-11 years down the line in the same setting. And both of us missed the third musketeer like hell. We three used to work together in my first job, and if I come to think of it, maybe it is my longest lasting friendship apart from with Ananya and Pamela, both of whom are school friends. In fact, to some people, I keep introducing Avik-da as my brother, coz it is a proud feeling to tell people that such a talented person is your brother.  Well, he wanted to sit and chat for a while, and I took him to the dilapidated looking canteen where I usually go with my current colleagues. As we ordered cold coffee, it started raining. It rained for a long time, so we ended up having some ঘুঘনী with chopped onions (you may say it is a Bengali equivalent of Chana Masala) followed by a bottle of Slice. We talked mostly about smart phones, I showed him the paintings I had done on my phone, he had a hearty laugh seeing them and also drew a cartoon of himself for me – which he called his self portrait. I happened to ask him why he is getting so negative, and solicited him to return to Kolkata, he called himself selfish and got irritated. After the rain stopped, we came out and he lectured me a bit about the sculptures around us and their various inconsistencies. We finally took leave of each other quite unceremoniously. But later in the night, as I was idling away on my bed, I realized the romanticism that the lunch in the rain generated. Had it been any other man, I’d have had fond romantic memories of that time spent together. Not Avik-da, because I simply can’t think of him in a loverly way. But I did feel all the more, how much I need a man in my life. It is not only because I am sex starved, in fact except the occasional bouts of desire I have, I am not really very inclined on the sex part of it. Problem is, I am pathetically straight not only in my sexual orientation, but also my friendship orientation. I get along well only with guys – except my girl friends who can be counted on my fingers, all my friends have been guys so far. Now suddenly I find myself totally devoid of male company, and the university is a conservative place with all senior and married people (sigh, it’s been so long I have had beer, and I can bet none of my colleagues here, male or female, would ever dare to drink publicly).  Beyond that, I don’t socialize at all, moment I am out of my work place, I catch a bus and get back home. I wonder if there can ever be a solution to my problem, the only way I can stop guys from taking advantage of me is by not indulging them in any possible way, and that leaves this huge void in my life.

Too many stories to tell...

It’s been a long long time,  and there are reasons.

 

The fall I had just a day before elections were set to happen in Kolkata, was pathetic because it was absolutely unnecessary. True that I always had this problem of twisting my ankle whenever I’d be on slightly uneven surface, but usually I hold on to some nearby support and manage to maintain my balance. That day the fall had to happen because there was nothing around me that I could hold on to. On hindsight, it was all very stupid. My brother was all set to leave for Bangalore. It was a scorching afternoon, and anyways we had decided to take a taxi, so, we kept chit chatting and delaying the travel to the airport. Finally, as we decided to step out, my brother just called out to me to take “the other route”.  Now our house has a proper main gate for exit, and the other end is the garage gate, which is over grown with shrubbery as we don’t have a car and that route is not used. I don’t know why we went back to our kid age and wanted some adventure, but as I tried to jump across the bamboo wall that borders that exit, I lost my balance and fell flat on my face. I scraped my knees and elbows, which was nothing much, but there was this huge swelling near my ankle join on my right feet. My brother stood at an arm’s length, still holding on to the umbrella he had planned to hold on my head till we’d get the taxi. You should have seen his face with “I am the culprit, it is all my fault” kinda pleading look. Well, dad helped me back on my feet and I just couldn’t think of dropping the plan of accompanying him to the airport, and instead stay home and take care of my wound. So I limped to the taxi stand, and I am limping still. The pain is substantially gone, but the limp remains, it has been two weeks now. 

 

Things don’t really end there. On our way back we decided to take a bus, and just when I was getting down, I hurt my left foot in something that jutted out from the front seat of the bus. Not sure if it was tin or wood, but there was a deep gash that started bleeding immediately. There was no way I could tell dad about the new wound, he already being worried about what happened earlier in the day. And I was like…would this lead to tetanus? Would I die? Would the vaccinations that I had taken in infancy still work? Finally I just decided to wait and see whether I’d die. As it appears, I am still alive.

Yet nowadays I have this severe falling tendency. Mostly due to the limping, I was about to fall down in the staircase while I was going out to cast my vote. I held on to the railing and saved myself. And I limped around a kilometre because there was not public transport on the voting day. Still, I won’t be deterred – I am so proud of being part of a sovereign democratic republic. Why, even yesterday I was falling of the chair, held on to the table and saved myself.

 

But my body didn’t respond well to the apparent negligence of my health. Within a week I fell severely ill, and had to visit the doctor and be given a course of antibiotics and paracetamol and cough syrup and what not. As a result, I have been long absent – I refrained from any kind of activity except my regular eat-sleep-wake up-go to the university routine.

 

Well that would again be wrong to say. Whenever I’d get some strength, I’d sit up and read the new book by Malcolm Gladwell, David and Goliath. And what an interesting book it is. Kind of gave me a new strength to live. 

 

For you see, the world around me is not a happy place. May be for the blind and unfeeling, it is. But not for people like me, who have themselves known pain, and who understand pain when they see it. It is such a tough world anyways, and over that, within moments your world might go topsy turvy once a bad news comes. Husband of a colleague in the university has been ill for some time and now he’s been diagnosed with cancer. A long fight ahead of her (i.e. if it lasts long) and moreover the fear factor is there. In other diseases the hope acts as a booster, this kind leaves you nowhere. Poor lady has simply forgotten to smile. Then today in the newspaper I read about this lady, around 50 years old now, who’s a science graduate, and who out of loneliness had attempted suicide 20 years back. The police admitted her to a hospital and ever since then, she’s living there, coz she can at least be in human company there.  I think of these circumstances that life poses before you – I sigh and thank God for giving me the courage to come back here leaving my job. I am at least happier here, but then it is a so far, so good condition. I don’t know what might happen tomorrow. Today, I am more contented than I have ever been in Bangalore.

 

Watched two movies lately.

Apur Panchali couldn’t make me cry. It left me dumb and writhing from within. After so many days, I still can’t handle this topic of death of one’s child. I wanted to say a lot of things aloud, things that came to my mind as I watched the movie – like, how it makes no sense to commit suicide because a child is dead, when you and your husband are young, you still can go for another baby, and then I’d remember my once upon a time colleague, whose life changed after her first child got aborted, she got some medical complication and haven’t been able to conceive ever since, a jovial fun loving girl turned reclusive in front of my eyes…I wanted to speak about all these things – but not a word would come out. It was a steely silence inside me.

On the other hand, cried my heart out during Two States. I could identify so much with the movie. Been through almost all the twists and turns – except alas – the guys in my case were not caring enough. In fact there is no comparison; they were loathsome people who simply played with me and I was stupid enough to trust them. I cried all the more towards the end of the movie, during the marriage. In the joy of the screen couple getting united, in the sorrow that this life will never be mine. Now, I have taken that in my stride, haven’t I?

 

Well, this is turning out to be a long entry, but I still have lots to tell, The Facebook experience, for example. So, after this long while, I finally went to Facebook and put up couple of photos of the inauguration of our website. It was less of boasting and more of a social experiment. For by now, I am totally out of Facebook. I wanted to see who’d be the people who’d like the photo despite my long absence. In this entire period of close to 8 months, I have rarely liked anybody’s photos or status updates. I wanted to see who in my friendlist are – “like me and I will like thee” type, and who genuinely feel good at my achievement. Well, my target was that particular group who have changed drastically after I left my job…e.g. the “SPHS friend” (the lady who wanted proof that I have indeed lost my job) and the guy who said “this is the life of s/w engineers, they have to stay away from home”. Well, none of them ever materialized in the like or comment list. There are people who are so jealous that they get severely impaired by their malice, yet won’t change themselves. They are the most “soda” types as well, they show off the most, but if that fizzes out, there’s nothing much left of them. Then there are the elite types, oh she’s not our category – the rich and blessed ones who are too busy celebrating their achievements to care about mine. And finally there’s the loser x-boyfriend type – who are kind of sad that their ill treatment didn’t kill me finally. On the other hand there are people who wrote things like..."proud of you" and "you are the best"...so you see, there's that selfless kind too. In the end it doesn’t matter to me – it was just an experiment, and I quite enjoyed it.

 

Finally there was this ping from my ex boss last week. He was my self-styled big brother when he said he won’t release me and coaxed me into serving a 5 months’ notice period. But afterwards there was not a single “hi” from him. Neither did I bother to get in touch with him despite the very tough time I had in between. Even when I was planning to go back there, I didn’t ping him but instead talked with another manager I knew there. I have this big fat ego, you see. And I quite like nurturing that. So the ping was of course to ask for help on a banking proposal. And soon after, I was flooded with pings and calls and emails, most of which I couldn’t receive coz I fell sick right then. Anyways, what I gathered is, they don’t really want my help in doing the proposal, they want me to write the proposal instead. Hello…I am no more your employee, remember? It took me a couple of mails and calls to drive this in their head. Afterwards there was one call where they sought some explanation and then again they went off the radar. Uff, how relieved I was to realize I am no more a part of that crazy organization. I wonder why the Indian s/w industry loves this delegate and pressurize rule. Why don’t they plan things in a better way, now that business is all the more difficult?

 

Whatever...hI am not thinking much. Que Sera Sera. I want to read “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” once again…I love Sirius Black.

Ignominy and pride...

Today, finally our university website was launched...by the governor that too...

I was not sure if I'd be allowed in the room, I am not an official employee of the university, I have been given a casual appointment for this particular project. I was a little worried about how shameful it'd look if I'd be asked to leave the premises, so I had quite made up my mind not to go to the conference hall at all, if not asked. But then, to my surprise, nobody stopped me. In fact another colleague, who is a permanent employee of our department, walked in a jeans and t-shirt, and a policeman followed him and walked straight to me and asked, "is he supposed to stay here?" I nodded, made a serious face and said yes, whereas I was going ROTFL in my mind. What could have been a more hilarious irony.

There was one more challenge...I simply didn't know what to wear. Yesterday too, I had a presentation to make for an upcoming project I am going to apply for, the audience involved a number of dignitaries from the university as well as other important organizations. I somehow managed with a formal pin striped shirt and a black trouser which has almost become an uniform for me for the "once in a blue moon" interview calls. Had a momentary blackout in the beginning of the presentation, it flitted before my eyes - how life used to be before, seminars would be a regular event - and how I have been struggling recently for an opportunity to do any work whatsoever - I had spent a sleepless night preparing for the event, and I was not quite in my usual self. But like I said, it was just a blink, and then I bounced back...and after it was over and well appreciated, it was like that heavenly feeling associated with the first taste of success after eternal wait. Whatever...amid everything else, what I noticed is, my corporate attire doesn't go well with the general custom of the university. Saree would be the best choice, but I can't manage that. So after much deliberation, I finally took out and ironed my red বাটিক print salwar suit, and put it on after taking my bath.

What followed was a heart wrenching pain. It was the same salwar suit I had worn when I went out with Boo for the last time, in September 2012. I have never worn it since. The shame associated with it, his outright refusal to accept our relationship, his insults, everything is as if still smeared on the dress. I had told Meenu that evening, with so much pride, when she asked me why I chose this dress for my date, that I wanted to give him a glimpse of what a Bengali bride can look like. I remembered my friendship with Meenu at that time, how she had driven "like Michael Schumacher" to get me there on time - how funny it is, I laughed in my mind and thought, there's no Boo, no Meenu, and Schumi himself is in coma...and I got my driving license and let alone driving like him, don't even have provisions to buy a car. But the pain of the occasion, and the disturbing memories associated with the dress wouldn't go off with the laugh...

Gradually, as I walked past the police cordon, I got accustomed to ignoring for the time being, whatever ill feelings were going on in my mind. And as our team photo was taken with the governor during the launching, I kind of forced myself to bask a little in the hard earned glory of it all. Now what remains more prominent in the long run...what I feel when I wear this dress the next time, ignominy or pride...is yet to be seen...

The roads that I walked away from...

It is terribly terribly hot. The heat is all set to take away your life force. Already I have become lazy since I came back, I prefer spending my evenings doing nothing substantial, just whiling away time with my family. And over that the summer is so overbearing that I seldom enter my room in the 1st floor before 12 am (by which time it cools down a bit from the direct sunlight it keeps receiving all day), and then in the cool breeze of the AC I promptly fall asleep. As a result I have lost touch with almost everything, my story books, my other hobbies like painting or playing the keyboard, the little bit of J2EE I had started to learn...of course two other major culprits are my slow internet connection (the terrible tata photon connection which I am going to get rid of in another 3-4 days) and then there is my addiction to the mobile - it presents my gmail, my TOI...and the games keep me glued. Altogether I am doing nothing worthwhile except my working hours. During the working hours however I thoroughly enjoy what I do, but then way I'd meet up with my bro and go and have a nice dinner at Forum and probably check out a movie or two in the evening show, is gone. South City mall is pretty near the university, but in the opposite direction to my home. And even if it were on the way (Metropolis mall is a stone's throw away from my home), I'd not have ventured out alone. I miss my bro all the time. My grumpy plump bro who'd be a great companion anyways - would follow me like a pet. What fun is there in watching a movie alone, or eating a dinner alone - I don't even like to go to the bookshop alone, I'd remember way we'd part ways and go about checking our own favorites as soon as we'd reach Crossword, but at length we'd exchange notes and decide upon which all to buy after consulting each other. I tell myself, that was another kind of life, this is something else, still...

Fact is, I am unhappy. I had planned to see Highway, then Two States and also অপুর পাঁচালি। This six days a week work schedule coupled with the heat is taking a toll on all my plans. And Highway is long gone from the theater.

You know what, a curious thing is happening from quite some time now. Almost everyday, as I'd wake up, there'd be only one tune that'd be going on in my mind. The same tune would come back time and again, and haunt me. It is the song "Chhor aaye hum" from the film "Maachis". I'd remember every single word of the song though I haven't probably heard the song for ages. In fact I don't remember liking the song particularly when the movie had come, I liked "Pani pani re" much better. Only, at that time I was a music maniac, and I'd tune in to almost every music program on the radio and the TV. So perhaps overexposure to the song made me learn by heart its lyrics. But way it reverberates in my mind as I am waking up, I feel as if every word is vibrating with life, as if I have lived with the song all my life. I can actually feel the pain the song tried to portray in the film. I live the good times in the past and the current torturous time described in the song. I am one with the urge to give up, with which the song ends, and the desperation when even that urge is unsuccessful...

Ek chhota sa lamha hai jo khatm nahi hota...
Main lakh jalatahun...yeh bhasm nahi hota...

Though I am a nobody to translate Gulzar's work, I can just try to explain what that means -

A small moment that doesn't end...
I try to burn it a million times - it just won't get destroyed...

I laugh and cry with every emotion of the song. I can go on to translate the entire song for those who doesn't understand Hindi, it is poetry at its pinnacle. But not today. Today I will tell you how I wake up with the song, and then realize, God, I am late again, and get on with my regular routine...but somewhere the song keeps coming with me everywhere...

I become the footsteps which spark off sunshine on the courtyard, I become the chirpy laughter than ripens the crop, and then as the song progresses, I become the frozen stone that one's heart turns into due to circumstances, I become the life that is an endless pit, a closed road. I don't know the old life that I miss - why, the truth remains that I was never happy in the past, I am supposed to be happier than ever right now, in my self imposed solitude, the way I am. My so called well thought out decision - which was supposed to salvage me from the gradual decadence I was facing. Then what is it that I miss, that I long for? I don't know...I just thought of writing about this strange feeling. The song feels like an arrow that goes straight through my heart as it awakens me every morning...

I can only leave you with the song...thank you Gulzar-ji, for putting into words this inexplicable pain which I can't do away with despite all prudent reasonings...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y7JRWs9dvVo

Miles to go...before I sleep... :)

Tears always came easily to me, these days all the more. An old friend from college pinged me in Whatsapp, and called afterwards. It felt wonderful. As if the way I had challenged myself, you don't have friends and you have to live this way only, was proved wrong by this single action, and I was overjoyed. It is not, after all, a world where nobody cares. You know, I was a very avid student of statistics once in my +2 - so I still remember this term "rare event". So rare events are not, by definition, non existent events you see :)

So my friend had asked me to share my CV with him. As I was sending him the mail, I couldn't help mentioning that his call has made me happy and changed my firm belief that I am an apparently friendless person. As I was sending that mail, I found myself crying. So much of life awaits me there and the whole of it eludes me. But then I am happy in my cocoon. I am happy with the small joys of planning, coding and showing my superiority in a subtle way to my juniors in the university. In fact I myself get surprised when I realize, why, my understanding of technology is not that bad, I can pick up things faster that the others and understand better than people who have been working much longer on the technology. And then, after a long time, I am mostly with people who are elder to me. So I am pampered a little. I like that. I like my small collection of shoes I have got after I came to Kolkata. I make it a point that I wear them all by turn (do you own some shoe shop - my seniors would mockingly ask)...I never miss the small bit of make up, and a matching watch and matching ear rings, the clothes are repetitive, but I don't feel bad about that - instead I rather appreciate the way I am carrying the clothes.

My crusade again customer torture by Indian service providers continue. Finally today I raised a request for my Tata photon number cancellation. Had had enough from them. Absolute cheaters they are. When they said they need time to solve the speed issue, I had changed my plan to some lower usage, so that I am not taxed that much by a non functional service. And here they are, charging me on my previous plan, with a bill amount double the cap on the new plan I had chosen. Well, if I am not left with a choice I will pay that amount itself, but I decided on not being tolerant on them anymore.

Over that I have now found an issue with ICICI bank, with which I have remained satisfied so far in all these 9 years of opening my first salary account with them. Some simple calculation showed me that they pay interest amount on FDs lesser than what they promise, around 0.8% lesser on an average (I checked one of my accounts and 2 of my brother's accounts). For the first time I need to think of removing my money with a nationalized bank.

How much of my time is wasted on money these days...when I had money I never worried, I just counted the lose cash so that I won't lose or misplace that. But the good thing that came out of this habit was to write down the daily expenses, and now I have enough statistics to build a sound financial plan for myself. I know my spending pattern too well.

Summer is terrible this time. Would you believe, today Google showed me at 5 PM: Kolkata, temperature 40 degrees, humidity 29% and wind speed...guess? 0 km/hr!!! Thank God I bought the AC in time - else would have been boiled alive I guess. Even now, as I'd go out of my room, it would feel as if my skin just got burnt. And how I'd long for Prague...

There's always been some kind of antenna in me which comes to play on Friday nights or Saturday nights. I am tired, still I want to enjoy in my own simple ways, reading, writing or watching movies. The entire country is witnessing all funny antics in the name of election, and I am excited about casting my vote after a long long time.

I guess that's all for today, my policy says, the consistency and length of your yawns should decide whether you are ready for sleep - I definitely am!

Anguished, and wondering...

Today, I read in the newspaper that the Amul girl is in trouble. She commented something on the “Besahara Parivar” which didn’t go well with the Sahara group. May be with nothing better to do, I am keenly following politics these days. Anyways election is on the forefront in the news these days, much more than even IPL. So with politics, as a side dish you may say, I have started following the scams too, especially after the last two episodes of this season of Satyamev Jayate. Or may be, since I am in Kolkata, I am turning poltical – there is something in the soil and air of this city which won’t let you be disinterested in politics, films, cultural events – everything an intellectual race is supposed to delve into. But then, whereas the other things add to the quality of your life, politics is something that leaves a strong, pungent and bitter aftertaste. To me, primarily, it proves all the more that either there is no God, or He is blind to evil and terribly partial with wrongdoers. The worst thing is that there is nobody you can trust. Incumbents and opponents all alike, all they indulge in is selfish malpractice. I read about this Sardha group’s Sudipta Sen’s son, the way he used to throw away money for his daily recreation and entertainment (in the estimation of the newspaper, it was close to 1 lakh INR per day). If in such a poor country you don’t feel guilty doing that, then whatever else you are, you are obviously not humane. And what do you gain at length? Some 80 odd years of a lavish life? Is that all you sell your soul for? I really feel at times that it is a good thing that I don’t have a lot of money. Greed is something that kills your conscience first of all. And once you can’t tell good from bad, you are a puppet in devil’s hand.

Like Boo. I am sure he has lost the last vestiges of his conscience. I happened to login to Linkedin after a long time and saw a photo of his, where he lacks the natural smile that’d light up his face. Moreover, rarely that I login to FB, because once upon a time we had a substantial amount of interaction there, FB would still show his entries on my news feed. So there I saw a feeble comment from him, asking Yuvraj Singh to get out on the day of the 20 20 world cup final. Well, I am afraid, anybody who understands the sports called cricket, would never criticise Yuvi for the fiasco on that day. Why, he is a survivor in every sense of the term. Even when my mom would criticise him, I’d patiently explain to her, what it takes to survive the challenges Yuvi has done. Only a weakling would give up on such a strong person. People who threw stones at his house are not people who love the game of cricket, they are fanatics about the emotion called cricket that is being marketed as the only saving grace for India, as if, we Indians can’t show our mettle in anything else. Well, there is nothing wrong in being a little bit upset for what happened, to quote yet another Amul ad that I saw while commuting, the Amul girl asks, “where is the Yu Vi knew”…such puns are ok, but asking someone to get out, as if he was purposely blocking the score card, looked nothing short of heinous crime to me. I, as a keen follower of the game of cricket, in fact quite liked the poetic justice in Sri Lanka’s win, they wanted to venerate their senior players on the verge of retirement with this trophy, in such cases, another kind of josh factor works, which can be quite divine in nature. However Boo and his ways doesn’t exasperate me anymore, when Yuvi hit the 50 in the last IPL match, I really wanted to post praises on him on FB, but then I checked myself. I thought, writing this article in my blog would be a more fitting tribute, both to my belief in his strength, talent and perseverance, and in my expression of utter hatred for the man I once loved. I really really regret the fact that I wasted my time on such a non entity.

May be I have such hateful thoughts only during the times of personal crisis. Because, trust me, I have learnt to be indifferent most of the times. It is one thing to combat the hurdles that come your way in life’s battles, and to accept the defeats as your misfortune. It is another thing when you don’t have a clue about how to fight. Way it is now. Once again, after a gap of 2-3 months, my periods are late. Every time my periods don’t come on time, it is a strange feeling. May be this is the end of it all. For a girl like me who hardly has any chance of getting married, menopause shouldn’t sound scary. But still it does cause some panic, may be because there would be no option left, to dream about a regular life. I tell myself that I am being paranoid. It is the quirky heat of Kolkata that is doing this to you. And last time it was your sudden change in routine, from office everyday to rest forever. For nobody has it this early, c’mon girl, you are just 34. But then it is not the fear factor that troubles me, it is the fact that somewhere in the core of my heart, I still seek happiness, in a form that might never be available to me. Why can’t I remain aloof, why can’t I give up? I have no answer to my questions.

Apart from this, life is a mixed journey as usual. The heat is overbearing but the simple lunch we had on Bengali new year’s day was awesome (it is a tradition in fact, we used to be landlords once upon a time, i.e. my granddad – dad’s dad was a so called “জমিদার ” in erstwhile East Bengal – so on new year’s day it was customary to sit with the village folks and have their lunch – boiled rice soaked in water, what is known as পান্তাভাত , spiced up with salt, chilli and lime, with fried fish, vegetables and fried balls of lentil and coconut as a side dish - mind you those days fish used to come real cheap in Bengal).  Then again, today I had this huge fight with dad, it is his way to taunt me at times, and he calls it humor. He particularly likes to point out about my lack of tact in telling things to people. See, when I am a transparent person, I don’t need to hide anything from anyone, this is what he fails to understand. So, today I ventured to give him a piece of my mind, which hurt him a lot. I wonder if I am good girl? Is compromise so necessary to be called good? At times I really feel I’d be happy if life would wrap up – I have had enough of it. In this world where nobody keeps up to their commitment, everyone is in a routine “let me please you and you make sure you serve my needs” or "why should I do your bidding, you are not strong enough to harm me" or better still “you better please me or else forget about your well being” mode, there is no respite for an upright soul like me. I feel stifled.

There was an interview day before yesterday, regarding employment in a middle east country. It went quite well too. I am wondering whether I should go for it if I am selected. I just want to live alone for a while…and sort out things.

A cool life and a needle prick...

It is such a wonderful feeling to have your own AC. Well, frankly, during the days when I was a student, Kolkata was not this hot, and even if it was, AC was not that popular, except for the high income zone. These days I hear of centrally air conditioned schools and colleges, well, in my time it was not so, and mind you, I have always been to private institutions. But ya, once I went for training with my first MNC, things changed. I can’t still forget the luxury of that single room I had for all 4 months of training. By some twist of luck I never got a roommate, and I loved it that way. I still remember being like this village idiot, sitting on the floor and looking around in awe – the first day I checked in that room. So, goes without saying that was the first time I lived in an air conditioned room. Then, on and off, during almost all my onsite tours, I got to taste similar luxury. But never in my own room. Like I have always said, the gap in the standard of my living based on whether I am onsite and offshore always pained me. God knows why, Indians get habituated with that lapse very easily. Oh, that was onsite, we had money then, and anyways the office was paying for accommodation. Once offshore, they get back to the savings track. And then moreover, Bangalore is an air conditioned city, more or less. Nobody buys an AC there for home use.

Well, can’t say that for Kolkata. The heat here is getting worse by the day. But then, I didn’t have a job. I was not sure whether to stay here or return to Bangalore. I was in one thousand and one dilemmas. But then, as of now, today, I am happy. The AC has been installed, and going out of station doesn’t even come in my mind. I was not very happy with the installation though. They did a pretty casual kinda job and didn’t even bother cleaning up after they were done. Even the drilled hole for pipe outlet was not plastered. But then I had made up my mind, whatever be the amount of dust, I shall sleep in my room itself. Well, dad and mom cleaned off the dust while hollering at me to stay away (that old allergy and asthma problem) – but then, once I entered the room, shut the doors and windows and put on the AC, it was pure bliss. Who cares that I can’t spend the summer in Europe anymore. I have my mini Europe in my room now.

I was being a kid and nagging with dad. Dad, am I a good girl? Just to get rid of me, he’d say, yes, a very good girl. And I’d proudly tell him, dad, I’ve been a good girl and I have earned this AC for myself. Yes, I am that happy.

Did a huge lot of sale shopping this Saturday, and got two wonderful shoes for myself. Had a great dinner with mom afterwards, in a restaurant nearby (crispy chicken, my favorite). The people there might be still having stitches in their stomach, from watching us arrange our shopping in between courses. I tell you, it is fun behaving as village idiots once in a while. 

There was one small thing that caused a minor glitch. The colleague in my previous organization, whom I once called friend, has a blog, which in fact, I had created for her. Told her that she can unburden herself in the blog whenever things go beyond control, way I do. Well, I don’t know what made me look at her blog after I had posted the last entry. Perhaps the new found happiness urged me to ensure that she’s ok too – because there’s no other way to know her whereabouts, we are no more on speaking terms. Well, it was like a tiny prick of needle when I read that she has called me a hypocrite (whose priority is to maintain friendship with her husband, and so I call him a good person) and she cited the time she sat beside me as I cried for Boo, and wondered how I would have felt had she called Boo a good person then. And of course she accused me of not remembering how good a friend she had been to me.

1.     Read the definition of hypocrite anywhere, and come back to me if you still don’t understand.

2.     I never blamed Boo when I cried for him, I always maintained that he is a good person. Now that I don’t cry for him anymore, I have become indifferent. Doesn’t matter to me whether he’s good or bad. I know he’s been bad to me, but he’s been excellent to his parents and wife. It is all relative.

3.     Ask me how much it costs to stay alive, and how much more to stay happy. If I didn’t value her friendship, I wouldn’t have left Bangalore without a job, in a heartbroken condition. She pushed me to the wall, and yet I accepted the blow and didn’t retaliate, only because I was grateful for the support she provided during my bad days. I don’t complain. It was impossible to coexist in the same organization with her, given her autocratic ways, and then, I am extremely happy now with the outcome of my decision. It was worth the struggle.

No, I don’t need to answer her. She’s a blind, stubborn person who shall remain unhappy all her life if she doesn’t change her ways. But then who am I to point out things. We are not friends anymore. These answers were for me, a medicine to be applied on that tiny needle wound. Though tiny, it hurt like hell.

At times I do feel like writing a romantic story. May be, that’d be my ode to the full moon lady…that’d be on the probable love that could have happened between the lonely people on earth who live like an island. I will think about it.