The countdown begins...

In complete contrast to the night when I wrote the last entry, yesterday night was blissful. I am really truly grateful to the 4-5 kids I have seen very closely in  life, Jonty, my cousin sister's elder kid (he is now some 16 or 18, but ya, I haven't met him for ages, I still remember the way I saw him when he was barely 1 or 2 years old), Ishaan, Prakash's and Reena bhabhi's son, who was always like the most important person in our SG gang, Riyan, Sanhita-di's son, Cucu, Meenus's son and my cousin brother's daughter Shanu with whom I spent 3 days in Delhi. All of these kids have been in their infancy when I met them, and have done all in their ability to charm up my life. Why I was so happy yesterday was mostly due to the chance I got to spend an entire evening with Cucu and to have contributed in my own small way to make him happy.

My mind, so full of contentment, just looked for the person, with whom I have laughed the most. The person who understood and appreciated and was proud of me in a way nobody would be. After so many days and so much proof, I simply can't believe that he is actually so different from what he had been to me once upon a time. My eyes welled up with tears, for reasons I can't quite perceive. Were they tears of happiness to see the reunited family, or tears of sorrow at the uselessness of my own life? Because as much as I might strive to achieve happiness for everyone I care for, I have always miserably failed to fulfill my own dreams. And now my nights are effectively dreamless, I wake up every morning with a strange kind of lethargy, and absolutely nothing to look forward to. If it is going to be such meaningless sustenance, it better be done in seclusion, so that I at least stop being an eyesore to the otherwise happy world around me.

Well, so in my state of unknown restlessness, I booked my final air ticket from Bangalore to return forever to Kolkata. 5th October. One year from the very same day last year, when I had my last bike ride with Boo, unconscious of the fact that it is going to be our last moment of togetherness. I want to get rid of the phrase "as usual". I can't let life go on "as usual". If it doesn't change its course by itself, I shall change it forcefully. It is my life, I have the right to do what I want with it. But yes, it is still a long time ahead...a count down of 110 days (I remember my 90+ days countdown during the notice period with the previous company and 114, I guess, days of countdown after 10th Board exam till the results were out - which all thankfully, got over, so even this one would, at some point in time).

Would I be happy or sad to leave Bangalore? Don't know. This place doesn't have anything more to offer to me. I am in the winding up mood, got started on the retirement financials (sounds hugely amusing even to me, but since I wouldn't like to compromise on my life style and wouldn't exactly beg for a job or settle for any job I get in Kolkata, until and unless it gives me enough challenges and seems interesting - so I am researching and planning on money multiplication on my meager - millionaire's corpus - as well as I can)...planning on utilizing the next two travels to transport most of my wardrobe and books to Kolkata - all these things have been initiated. No point trying to prove to the world that I don't care about the hurts I received. I do, I really do...they have shattered me. So much so that moment I am little happy, my destiny laughs at my foolish attempts to smile and mercilessly points out to me the numerous reasons I am supposed to be morosed...and I just can't stop my eyes from moistening up...I am a broken person, I want some recluse. Period.

Emotionally drained...

I am so so emotionally drained today. Never felt so exhausted for a long time now. As much as I seem to like emotional drama in life, I have gone a long distance from the regular "nautanki" that happened in my life every now and then till last October. These few months freedom has made me light at heart...that premonition of imminent turmoil is gone entirely. There was one time if I wouldn't cry myself to sleep it wouldn't seem to be a normal day. Now it is I, me and myself na, everything is predictable, mundane and as a result harmless.

I don't know why on earth I agreed to extend my term in this place. I would have gone away in couple of weeks, and that would be the end of it all.But no, I being me, need to keep my words no. Each and every word I have given knowingly or unknowingly. That I won't blame him for spoiling my career. I can still see myself sitting behind him on the scooter, the day when I revoked my resignation last September. He was very happy, wanted to take me to Koramangla, I had to deposit my last Prague onsite's cheque in my bank. I could have gone alone, but he insisted he wanted to take me, even though it was starting to rain. And then I was just telling him, Boo don't break my dream na, I really want to complete 10 years of my career and then go, this the only thing I can do for myself, please help me achieve it na? He said, if you want to blame me for not achieving it, so be it. I failed to realize in my blindness of faith that the erosion of that trust was already way beyond control. Everything was falling apart. I still decided to hold on to my trust on him and on my God, who knew how soon both of them would fail me.

During this time, we used to go to this park in Koramangla 6th block. His condition was, buy me corn, I will sit and listen to your blabbering. We went there twice, once on our first anniversary, and then on 5th September. Mostly we talked about us, or rather I talked. But I had asked him if I should approach my friend's estranged husband...if that'd be a proper thing to do, considering I don't even know the guy. He just told me, if someone has trusted you with her life, you must try once.

So finally, it appears, just to keep his wish, I am stretching my stay in Bangalore till the time 10 years of my at a stretch career is achieved. Just to abide by his suggestion, I drain myself to counsel my friend and her husband, and find both of them throwing away a fortune which I won't get even if I beg. I try my best to convince them but ego seems to be a far more important thing than togetherness. Priorities are important you see, love is not. Love was important only for the stupid idiot girl who gave her everything to love, only to pine away in loneliness. He also used to tell me, you can't change people. He used to get agitated when I suffered because of the reason that people failed to see the point I was trying to put in for their own benefit. There was a time when he didn't want me to suffer. There was a time too, when he said, he cannot live long without seeing me, I shouldn't go to faraway places like the US, where he can't even go and see me when he'd miss me.

I dug up the chat logs after a long time today, just to prove to myself that I had not been dreaming. And here's the proof - and it's not long back also, date tells me it was 18th April last year.

me: u remember u only told me in one of ur romantic moods...that I shdn't go to US coz its very far away...otherwise wherever else I go...u'll come over...to meet me :)

he: its not romantic.. mood.  
i still say the same  
:)

me: ok... and I still believe u :)

he: done

me: so long as u stay near me...I dont need u to be romantic  
:)

Ok, so one year later, today I was returning to my desk and he was going with his friends for tea. Our paths crossed and we were forced to face each other. You should have seen his reaction, he couldn't decide which way to turn, how to avoid me, how to preserve his chastity. For a moment I felt like a real untouchable. I moved to the corner as he passed me and walked on in haste. So I have become like that - in one year's time, your sweet girl, whom you couldn't stay away from, you hate her very shadow. That is all that is left of love and its various manifestations.

You ever realize how you make me feel???

Trodden paths...

At times I realize that it has been a long time in Bangalore. Way being to some place after a long time reminds you of some long forgotten memories...and you exclaim, oh, there has been that time too.

It happened to me today in Jayanagar 9th block. It transported me in time, back to 2005-2006. Yes, it has changed a lot, with the malls and all...but then, some things don't change na? I could almost see myself, as I was then - thinner, prettier, and full of energy, roaming around with Anand or my roomies, shopping, having food, merry making on the whole. I was excitedly telling my brother, this is the parlor we used to visit, this is my tailoring shop, this is the shop from where I'd get Anand's birthday gifts, ya, we got my engagement ring from somewhere here...

I had almost forgotten that episode of my life. That episode which belonged to an almost normal girl, who has friends, a boyfriend, a nice job and is planning to settle down soon. Not that Bangalore Central or Inox doesn't remind me of Boo Boo, it does, probably it makes me more pensive than these very old memories, for these, almost surprised me. Being full of sorrow is one thing, you tend to get habituated to your condition. What looks strange is the discovery that I used to be someone different at some point in time.

Well, Yeh Jawaani Hai Deewani was good, but nothing compared to Wake Up Sid...it was simply what it should be when it is a Karan Johar production. I enjoyed it all the same (well who doesn't know how much I enjoy KJo movies). Thankfully my mind which keeps concentrating on finding links, didn't for once remember Ranbir Kapoor's previous release (even when the topic came up during dinner tonight, and I was reminded by my brother, about Barfi, all I thought was, thank God I get to enjoy my movies these days - I didn't really let 29th September bother me, except for that fact that watching it with Boo rather spoiled the fun and concentration). All my mind inadvertently did, while watching YJWD was, to speculate what kind of a charmer come womanizer this gentleman must be in real life as well, to play it so well in reel life :P He should be giving lessons on "being natural with your ex". Do I sound bitter? No, I am not. I am just not  bothered - I have learnt not to look back.

So the date has been decided and accepted finally. A matter of months, and I'd be going back...just wanna spend the last few days in this city peacefully and happily. People at office are speculating a lot, even including cheapo discussions about whether my resignation was all a gimmick to negotiate more salary - as if I have any dearth of money. People don't understand, that after what I have lost, money is the least of my worries, in fact it just doesn't matter. And I am not one who negotiates in that manner. I am brave enough to demand. Anyways let's forget things that don't matter, I have work for 3.5 more months, that itself makes me happy. Health is also getting better, so it is late Saturday night, and time to sleep.

A dream, a film and some thoughts...

Haven't been keeping well lately, say for the last week or two. Mostly indigestion problems, welcome as much as the Bangalore rains were this time, they didn't quite agree with my health. I have become tired these days, I can feel it, the strains I could take very easily earlier, seem overwhelming now, for example the simple act of standing in a bus during commutation - I'd rather pay 5-10 times the fare but can't take that exhaustion. May be I am growing old?

So, what with throwing up whatever I had as food or drink yesterday, and a lot of work that still forced me to go to office and stay back till 8 (someone was contemplating resignation but has apparently agreed to stay back till the current project is completed - may be for a little more bank balance, or may be because she can pay for that past time called work - which gets her to keep her clock ticking?), why am I staying up late?

I dreamed of him, in his navy blue shirt. We walking in strangely calm evening, with the sultry Calcutta breeze blowing, he agitated, and me in deep never before realizations unfurling before my eyes. I don't know, once you wake up from your dream, your dream tends to get mingled with reality. May be, that was not the shirt he wore in the dream? May be he was being a perfectly normal person and just naturally talking to me as a friend or an absolutely unrelated human being, just having a casual chat? And when the dream ended, I forcefully decorated it with my favorite impressions of him, he touching my cheek and turning my face towards him to examine my new colorful ear top (if I remember correctly, it has a meena work of green and magenta on gold plating)...my favorite memories, he winning over my introvert brother in a moment (way no other friend of mine has succeeded ever)...oh a hundred other things he brought back because of the fact that he unnecessarily came in my dreams in a time when I have been rendered quite lonely and helpless and I haven't ever spoken to him even on the phone for say the last 5 years...a time when I am still mourning my favorite artist's premature death and still struggling with the decision about whether I should bring in petty things in a friendship and throw away my career, whether I should bring in career in a commitment and look away from my parent's wishes, was being torn apart by do's and don'ts, would be's and could be's...he simply chooses to stir me up one Monday morning, and remind me of a good time I never cared to admit that I had with him - the best time - the time one spends with a soul mate...that I conveniently forgot in my other priorities. Well, even he should be blamed, for even he forgot promises - in fact only he forgot promises, I am still free and available for him, who'd never come for he has a wife and a little girl. A little girl whom he chooses to call by my nick name. He stirs me up and I throw up and am sick to the core, and it is followed by one hell of an unnecessary period - which I don't need to have - I am apparently not meant to play a role of creation of a life ever.

But his memories don't leave me. And the movie name haunts me, Memories in March. One of my biggest pains in life is that I am not informed about the things that are happening in the city I left behind. The cultural things. The movies, more than anything else, the movies. Nobody told me about this movie man, Arekti Premer Galpo came to the news for some other reason, and somehow reached my ears, I being the conservative me, chose to look away from it (I would be ashamed to admit now, but I kind of did the same thing for Chitrangada, and told myself, when Rituparno makes a more generic next movie, I'd be sure to go and watch it) - but I never heard of this one, before the day when the news of his death came out and his work was being discussed in all the forums.

After finishing up work and my phone call to mom, I should have gone to sleep, but I chose to stay up and watch the movie. Internet connection in India is pathetic man, why, I have watched all the major movies I missed out in these years, in my short stay in Prague, and I never faced a connectivity problem being on wifi. And this dongle of mine can't process a youtube video at the lowest resolution of 144p? I have been obsessed all these while with Mathura nagarpati...I feel he's penned an even more beautiful poem in the form of Sakhi hum - I wonder how he got so influenced by vyshnav couplets, and imagine the irritation when such a mellifluous tune and such amazing lyrics come distorted because of low quality of video. Still, me being the patient me went through it calmly, in places where I couldn't hear the dialogue clearly (but I needed to), I had to rewind, once, at times twice, again spoiling the pace of the movie, but I must admit, this was one rare movie which never got me bored for a moment. Which again proves, the most engaging action is the formation of relationships - which this movie is all about. Why call it a mere formation, catharsis would be a much more apt word. A beautiful movie, it can be termed almost as a poem or a painting.

So it is 2:30 and I have office tomorrow. But I am sure I will be able to manage that. How? Wasn't I this tired, broken, given up being just a little while back? You know what, this splendid work - from this immensely talented person who is no more with us, just shook me up. I talk of things being pent up in me? I talk of being the lone sufferer? Each single frame of this movie shouted out to me, a much greater suffering, and a celebration of that suffering. What is life, apart from being a big bland continuous suffering, if we don't decide to celebrate it? No, I won't give up. I'd be very sick, very sad, very fatigued, but then, this is all the time I have, to establish my identity. I am probably not talented enough to give the world such amazing work of creativity and self actualization, but I can at least take in this beautiful world with all my senses, so long as I live. No, I don't live by falsehood, and that is the only pride that keeps me alive.

I watched the lyrical agony of love that Memories in March is, and I felt so lost...so totally lost in thoughts. Yes, it is time to go to sleep. Tomorrow, as we all know is yet another day, and I am unsure how to face that day, but dear Rituparno, even after you have died, you were able to give this hapless girl a gift of bliss through your flawless acting skills - or was it really acting? Was it something aching out from you, which I could so identify with? Wonder how much more you could have given us if God would have allowed you to stay back a little while more...I am sorry about not having understood you in a more rational way, when you were alive.

Being death conscious...

মৃত্যু চেতনা ? May be... it has been there in my thoughts lately...

I feel an agonizing void at the death of Rituparno Ghosh. It is like a silent moan which burns your insides, yet you somehow can't bring it out. I feel it is a personal loss. I can't quite explain. I am not a normal girl, because I don't have a normal life. The little joy I have in my life is credited to my pseudo world...my world of revelations, in the movies I watch, in the stories and articles I read, in the music I listen to, in the faces I observe in a packed bus, in my thinking, in my realizations. And people who are talented enough to be able to nurture that pseudo life and as a result keep me alive (because my entertainments won't come cheap), are going away from me. I am scared of this fact.

I am seeing too many deaths, just too many deaths lately. As I was returning home today, I was almost silently praying to God, let nothing happen to Suman - even if he doesn't write another line of song in his life, if he is just alive, I will continue to feel secured, with the feeling that there is some sane mind in some corner of my beloved city, who taught me to be brave and vulnerable at the same time, lonely and unified with the world in the same breath (these are by the way, Rituparno's own words, describing the essence of his film making), even though it does not reflect in his work anymore. I was desperately telling my mother, at least Suman and Shirshendu, let nothing happen to them, they are like the last two pillars of my typical Bengali upbringing.

I have felt so so blessed that in my generation, I happened to find someone who is so well read, who knows and assimilates Tagore and serves his work on a palate to us lesser beings, I felt almost scared for the next generation who would not have a guiding star like Rituparno. As I have always mentioned, I don't know what fascinates me more, his film sense or his music sense. That he was born as a man and had a girl's heart perhaps contributed to this immense understanding of human nature, which in itself is (was) his unique talent.

Yes he is a past tense now. I don't understand, here I am confused about sustenance, here sustenance is such an ever elusive thing? Tonight you go to sleep and tomorrow you don't wake up? All your mettle and dreams vanish in a wink? I don't quite perceive it. Last year this time, my Pishi was there, last to last year, my Mashi was there, and now they are simply not present? Some months back, Yash Chopra was making Jab Tak Hai Jaan, and then he simply dies? That interview, which they showed on TV after Sunil passed away, between him and Rituparno, a pure Bengali intellectual adda, now both the participants are no more? Their age difference of nearly 30 years doesn't matter, why, people die at all ages, from 1 day to 100 years. And here I am, doing nothing worthwhile in life, yet I have to live so long I can, and to live, I have to adapt? And then one night, when I go to sleep, with happy thoughts, that I have probably adapted well, I have accustomed myself to the society's preferred ways, then God decides to break the utopia and end my life? Just like that?

I read somewhere about signs God shows, when your end is nearing. Signs are almost always in the form of suffering. So, every time I suffer, and finally don't succumb, but emerge victorious, does that mean I have kicked away death? No it doesn't, death is always there, lingering, enshrouded in mystery. And it means that it all ends in a supernatural whim? I don't understand death. Suicide I understand, it takes a lot of bravery to end your dreams and finally decide to quit. It is like giving up or retiring from a fight. But imagine a fight whose end point you don't know. No rules, no time bound parameters, imagine, the end comes and you just have to obey that end and you have to keep fighting all the while that it chooses not to come up? Think of a human being, who indulges in all kinds of circus (what else do I call this ensemble of goodness and crookedness, mockery and jealousy, stabbing and forgiving that we do everyday, sometimes willingly, sometimes unwillingly, just in order to survive), why? To live...and "living" is not in his hands. A freaking car accident, to a sudden cardiac arrest to a long and painful cancer (all of which the hopeful species that we are, we believe of either not happening to us, "it only happens to others" or sing the ever encouraging "we shall overcome" in the rare times when the truth hits in an unavoidable way) - is awaiting us and is driven totally by an inexplicable term called "probability" - which has a definition in mathematics but none in real life. And in the mean time we research on stem cells to sustain life, and if we'd go by Robin Cook's novel, the researcher trying to give human beings longevity dies in a laboratory accident. It is as unpredictable and ironical as that. Lucky are those who get to live a complete life and say, oh, I have had it all, now I can die in peace. Wish death had that kind of glory - to be embraced without jolting the natural motion of life. We are so oblivious in our self centered inertia of life, aren't we? And would it be the same world if we were otherwise? What kind of a world would it be with us fearing death all the time? Not fearing death is something I can understand and obviously, gleefully accept and support, but do we even perceive death properly? That is what worries me...

Ring-a-ring-o'-roses

Well as I have been saying so even in social media, I simply love Aashiqui 2 songs. So after two days of non stop work (had never worked so much in life man), when finally work was getting over (it gives you such a happy feeling), I finally decided to relax a bit. On came Times of India, Facebook and Aashiqui 2 songs. All these went on for a while, and then I realized that I am very very sleepy. I did retire to my room (from you know - my sea facing hall adorned with wonderfully comfortable sofas ;) ), but then Aashiqui 2 songs would not leave me. So I listened to them for some more time on my mobile, and then they parallely started - the Agneepath song (yeh lamhe kahaan tthe mere) and tears streaming down my eyes. All stupid insignificant thoughts started coming to my mind - including Boo's stupid poems:

Cab will come at 6:30,
Flight is at 9:30,
You are dirty...

Just for the sake of rhyming as you can well understand, I become dirty it seems. And then early morning gentleman wakes me up and tells me stories about only lady chirping all the while to another lady in the morning flight - about "Abhishek" who's supposedly the hubby, and not letting him sleep, and then on landing in Bangalore airport, he going and telling the listener lady "tell your friend that if she talks so much Abhishek will run away". I remembered our good time together and cried. Kept crying and then slept off. Usual story, no?

Forget all that, there is important news. I got a diamond ring for myself. And it is a beautiful diamond ring too, with D inscribed on both sides flanked with a heart on each side (four hearts and two Ds altogether).

Well onsite life is usual, lavish living, cornflakes and milk with chocolate sauce, and a hell lot of work. Life moves on, though with a lot of uncertainty. Flip side of being confused is the rather proud feeling, that you are free to do whatever you want with your life. Who gets so much freedom in life, tell me? 9th country visited, I am all set to return to Bangalore once again. Happily shopped and spent all my onsite money, have got a "Laila" perfume for myself as well - the crazy me :( - so the best comment I received was, may be you'd get a Majnu finally, now that you have a Laila perfume with you. Writing Majnu is tricky man, it is my boss's name jumbled up - and poor person is married with two kids and is the only reason I do not get to resign :( :(

Ok so here goes my diamond ring - nice, na?

The everyday drama that life is...

Ok...with all my enthusiasm, I want to write, I want to write...and then I stop. What to write and how to start?

May be with the fact that I have a big fat ego? I remember when, even during my stint in my last company, I contemplated resignation much before I actually resigned. And in this company, I don't know just how long it has been that the contemplation has been going on....mostly even before I joined. And ya one time, I did resign in reality, but it was, as you all know, a very short lived affair which was withdrawn in 5 odd days. As the reviews of Ashiqui 2 keeps telling me, love is the greatest addiction, that destroys you finally.

Well no more then...this time I shall let the story end. At least I thought so when I had finally, after a small consultation with my parents (my parents who never say no to any of my whims - I don't know if anyone else on earth have more supportive parents than me), sent the two line mail on Friday 10:40 PM.

There are many ways to write a story, and I used to be an artist once in more than one way (I painted, I wrote poetry and prose and I sang and often danced too, and I recited well). But now, I simply chose to state the facts. For I know I must write today, a lot many emotions and untold words are pent up within, which need to vent out - I will do it the simplest possible way, I shall pour them out without decoration.

It was the usual crap that's associated with the appraisal season. I don't blame my boss ever, he is a most excellent and extraordinary human being, the near perfect person you could ever have as a boss. But the appraisal process itself is such a crappy thing (and remember I am saying this for once in my full potential as a MBA in HR) that lesser human beings cannot always play up to the "greatness" and "sanctity" of its ways. So, he happened to be forced to decrease my rating from the topmost to the second topmost (which I anyways deserve as I haven't really been able to give my 100% in the last few months - in fact I am more than grateful that the organization has been bearing with my 100 personal issues with a real big heart) - and to justify the same he gave a crappier logic. But with weak hearts that is a big risk you run, you don't know which blow might turn out to be a terminal one.

Well the resignation letter was brief.

Hi M,

I'd like to resign from my current position in "". Please let me know my release date.

Regards,
D

No thanks and good byes n crap, and ya, HR team was looped in. Saturday and Sunday followed in misery and happiness. Misery about finally having destroyed my career. Happiness at having broken the last barrier between me and my only wish - to be with my loving parents. This is the only thing left in my power to do. I can't get a husband for myself, I couldn't make my relationships work. I need love, and the only love I am assuredly going to get is from my parents till the time God lets them be with me, which I really hope would be a long time. I want to be happy with them. Don't get me wrong, my brother loves me a lot, but it is nothing compared to how much my parents love me.

With all my apprehensions, I ventured out to office. Doubts were manifold. A colleague and a good friend in office was asked to go immediately, in two days time, as soon as he resigned last Wednesday. I was wondering if I would be bidden adieu as unceremoniously and somewhat insultingly. And then the regular autowallah chik chik was on - if I hate any particular community in Bangalore, it is this. Good autowallahs please don't take offence, fact remains that albeit you exist, you are completely outweighed by the bad ones. In a civilized lawful city, public transport folks should be polite and courteous, and not rude and ruffian, way most of them are. Then, the heat this time is really getting on my nerves. Bangalore is not a place you can equate with so much heat, and then the last two summers were mostly spent in Europe. So I feel all the more miserable coping up with the crazy temperatures here. And then the monster is always there. Monday, I went upstairs for some work (incidentally with the same colleague who resigned two days later) and discovered that the monster has shifted upstairs. I purposely put on a shade too bright of joviality. Laughing and chirping,  and being the perfect professional, I went on to show just how happy I am with work in particular and life in general. And then I'd occasionally glance at his desk. Wait, is that a story book he's reading? A small book is open all the time beside him. Then with acute convulsion I realize, crap crap crap, it is the diary. The great diary that was a birthday gift from me to him. And then, would you believe it to be humanly possible? I actually feel grateful to the monster that he hasn't thrown it away and is still using it. Oh God, what a strange creature you have made in my form and name.

Ok, we are deviating. So, what happened on Monday. Nothing, it was a super flop show. My boss literally knows how to put out the venom - in fact later in the night my dad was telling me how good an administrator he must be. Well he just refused to accept my resignation. I however, insisted and haven't yet withdrawn it, I told him he can't hold me back more than the stipulated notice period (which is 2 months). He politely said, line manager has the sole discretion about releasing a resource. He firmly said, he's like my big brother and knows I can't live without work - so now the contract goes that I need to show him another offer letter, in order to be eligible for a release. Ya, hilarious as it might sound, the matter was left at that. And I am supposedly travelling to the middle east this weekend. Let us revisit the resignation bit once I return.

Then came Tuesday, the great Boo Boo's birthday. Oh how I wished to liberate him from the ghost bondage of my presence, but that was not to be. I kept wake for long on Monday night, ushered in his birthday with the same warm feeling of love as I always do, humming happy birthday, and even taking a peek at our photo. But that was all I could do. When in the morning I saw him, in my once upon a time favorite blue shirt, happily taking in wishes from his friends and phone callers, I stopped in my track and wanted to do an about turn, but somehow gathered myself and passed him with a frown. All I could comment to M was - it is my Boo Boo's birthday, and I can't wish him aloud, why is life so unfair? She just calmly replied, he is not "your" Boo Boo. That's true anyways. But still I had promised to give M a treat, as it is (not my) Boo Boo's birthday anyways. So, we happened to venture out to ZeroG, which is a pub anyways...may be with plans of gulping down a beer or two, and found ourselves lost in the multi-storeyed building. It was supposedly on the topmost floor, and all lifts we'd get in would go till the 9th floor, which looked like office space. So finally we did get down on the 9th floor and asked the security there. He very confidently informs us, ZeroG is on the 10th floor and you need to go there from zero (i.e ground floor) by stairs. Now, I have been to ZeroG during a project party in my last company, which was some 3 years back. I doubtfully said, zero se 10th sidiyon se kaise ja sakte hain bhaiya, zaroor lift hai koi....and he gathers that we are perfect nitwits. He ushers us back to the lift, said, zero jao aap dono...then he considers...zero pata hai? waits for a moment or two, and concludes...nahi pata hai...and he himself presses zero on the panel and leaves. We look at each other with shocked expression as the lift takes us to the ground floor for a 4th time....did a petty security guy just accused us of being illiterates??? Finally another little more helpful person takes us to the shady kinda ZeroG lift hidden in a corner, which I immediately recognize. But the story doesn't end there. We reach the place and find it empty. After a while a solitary person walks over and informs us that it opens at 3:30. Then probably he takes pity on us and says, "do you want lunch? I can serve lunch, but there is no drink available, bartender comes at 3:30." We happily agree, have a rather expensive but nice lunch in a place which we have all to ourselves, and which gives us a rooftop view of the heart of the city. Who says girls don't do adventures.

Wish Boo's birthday would have been over with these happy thoughts. But no, I have to come home and log on to FB and see new photos glaring at me, this time from Mangalore. Mangalore, which supposedly has a beach, where I had wanted to go with him. And I don't even have guts enough to delete him from my friend list, way his "lady love" has (well I was for once so so happy that she has done that). So I have to take such stuff in as long as I live, because picture perfect as FB's logic is, it does know I am interested in K's world and his news would anyways come up on the top. And then I happily contemplate the news...news of K being unmasked.

Had it not been for my resignation the matter would have never come out. M the desperate calls up my boss in the weekend to discuss how to retain me. And says something like "M, I wanted to tell you something else too about D, but I will confirm once from her and then tell". And the knowledgeable boss blurts out, "About K? I already know - and do you know, she is not the first girl he's done this with - he has this habit of going around with girls and dumping them - I wonder why D took him so seriously".

So well, the boss knows, and if the boss knows, half or more than half the office knows too. Strangely, I didn't feel embarrassed. For crying out loud, why should I when I am not the wrongdoer? I felt rather smug at how the K hates being exposed (when his gmail account was hacked he supposedly felt naked)...and everyone knows his true self. Ha ha, with every photo he uploads, his nakedness becomes even more prominent. People wonder how terribly two faced and shameless he is. But then full of glee, I stop and think. Really, is my Boo so bad? I want to scream out to the world a big NO. But then, the facts prove otherwise. The Boo I loved and still love, was good - he's died...so I sigh and give up on him for one more time.

Watched Ashiqui 2 today. And did a hell lotta shopping. Love this single life. Tum hi ho was really nice - the movie didn't repel me as I thought - watching a love story would at this stage (when Anand left me, I really hated watching Ajab Prem Ki Gajab Kahaani soon afterwards)...well this was rather an Indianized version of "The Silver Lining Play Book" - with a sad ending, but I did cry once or twice at the sheer dedication of the girl. Well, her guy died, so kinda spared her from photos posted on FB with arms round another girl, but then he left her too. Like her, I too have shouted out calling him a coward...and then have moved on with life. Just that I don't have the liberty to attach my name with his...but can you ever forget true love?

Ok so after all these drama, life still moves on. If someone has made to the end of this article, thanks for being hooked in. Means a lot that you read my story :)