You think of someone
Yet you desire someone else
You need someone
Yet you want someone else
You live with someone
Yet you cant live without someone else………
She penned down these thoughts and put aside her writing pad. Almost immediately, the door bell rang. A letter from her Bestest chum. Ah! Indeed it was a happy day. Forgetting everything, she ran towards her bedroom, holding the letter close to her heart and slowly went through the contents..
17th July, 2004
My Dearest Chims ,
Hey! For a pretty long time I haven’t written a letter to anybody and now it’s like doing something totally new. I don’t know how to begin or what to write. Life is taking its toll. I am sure you can guess. I am in a mess. Why is Life so hard Chims ? I think I am a psychopathic case- one that’ll be an asset to any museum of perverts.
One thing I discovered about myself. I am looking for some great love, some passion that will be powerful, addictive, that burns like fire, and wherever I’ll get it , I’ll give everything to keep it burning.
With Siddharth , I have found honesty and constancy, companionship, committment and protection. Believe me, I love him like crazy and I’ll never hurt him. If for any reasons I have to give him up, I’ll die of guilt conscience or kill myself. He can’t express his love (something most honest men are unable to do) and he is not romantically inclined. He is passionate about me but his passion is a practical one – governed by the mind rather than the heart. But what he has given me is – ALL- all of his love, his faith, his trust. All of which I keep next to my heart and will do so till kingdom comes. He is the man who’ll make an ideal husband.
But, He is not my ideal lover.( You think of someone, yet you desire someone else, you need someone, yet you want someone else, you live with someone yet you can’t live without someone else………) I thirst for a passion that is all consuming. Someone who is crazy about me, who loves me and is governed by the heart and the impulses – a love like I have within me and I am finding it difficult to settle for something that is probably much better in several ways- it is long lasting, trust worthy- instead I am hankering for something fiery but furtive, burning but short- lived, and which will eventually bring me misery and pain. And my search is driving me nuts – into the arms of Praveen for instance.
Praveen- an Old friend of mine whom I met after several years, sometime back. He was so changed – 5ft 10”, lanky, kind of good looking. It was a shock to see him so changed. I felt awkward and tongue tied. Soon, we found ourselves, chatting happily, laughing at jokes, discovering several things in common. I was so so so taken by his easygoingness and his level of understanding and his intelligence was so attractive. Then one day, he disclosed to me that he was tremendously attracted to me. I was surprised and pleased and I told him that I felt attracted and attached as well.
(Sounds Strange ? doesn’t it especially when I say I am already committed to someone who loves me so much and whom I wish to spend my entire lifetime with) It didn’t take us anytime to get closer to each other. It was Incest ! But I was happy. We laughed and chatted like old friends and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other. It was more of the physical attraction than emotional. It means it was not that he was in love with me or me in love with him. It was a deep liking for each other combined with a great comfort in each other’s presence and all extended a little more, just crossing over the border of propriety. Of course, we kept saying to each other that ours was a friendly love.
Praveen went away to delhi to prepare for his CAT exams. We kept in touch still. He told me all the sleazy stuff he was upto. I joked with him, I told him he was a jerk. We laughed .By this time I had told him all about siddharth. He said he was jealous but that we understood that since there could be no “us” so it was best I married Siddharth and got on with life.
Every time, I set out with the resolution of stopping this because I realized I was falling in love, each time we met it was only so natural for us to come close , hug and make out that I ended up making promises to keep this liaison going even after marriage. I made my promise with all the sincerity I could possess.( you might be thinking how could I be falling in love when I had already found my man . Life is pretty strange Chims. Don’t know why it happens. It was dangerously like love, it was dangerously escalating into one. From my side it had jumped the limit ( from my side, can you imagine?)
One night, I told him( in an exceptionally emotional moment) that I wished I could be his wife, the mother of his child. I know he was shocked. Seeing him so shocked, I was Shocked. What I had said was not something impulsive. Naturally, he wasn’t thinking on those lines. ( Strangely I didn’t feel I was doing something wrong. It was only too natural for me to love him) I was scared of loosing what I probably did not have but was under the illusion of possessing ( and that’s where I lost him) .
The experience is beyond words. I am miserably in love with him ! I need Siddharth yet I can’t do without Praveen.
One Sunday in the wee hours of morning we were talking serious stuff. He reminded me that this relationship would bring pain for both of us because we have to see each getting married to someone else. Despite all my agony. I can’t do a thing.
I love this guy, he is caring, loving passionate. Yes his passion is what I’ve been looking for and which ( unfortunately ) I did not find in siddharth though I have found in him what I’ll never find anywhere else in the world – constancy, honesty, love all bestowed with trust in me. But though I have trusted my impulses and gone so far, I have not been able to get over paltry fears – fears of losing either of these two men and fear of the truth being disclosed……..Yet it’s true I have loved each of them…You might think I am crazy but it’s true. I have been true to myself. I need them both to make me complete.
She sat there with the letter in her hands – dazed. Slowly she leafed through the pages of her diary……
You think of someone
Yet you desire someone else
You need someone
Yet you want someone else
You live with someone
Yet you cant live without someone else………What had made her write those lines. Does it happen with everyone ? Perhaps it’s true …each one of us experiences this but few have the ability to live it. What she had with Praveen was intense yet short lived ( gradually his hand slipped away from hers)as had been predicted by her. Yet it was something she’d never forget for the rest of her lifetime. He had never wanted to possess her and had expected the same from her. Till the time you love someone , not because you want to possess him but because you admire the person in him , you are free too, knowing he is all yours. You can love him the way you want. Then even if he wanders away you are happy because you still have his love – you haven’t bound him, you’ve set him free. That inturn sets you free.
She wanted to live with Siddharth and that’s what she did.He might have been unromantic but she had to teach him. Every relationship lacked something so that both of them could get together and work on it. And that’s how you learn to live together , to love each other , to understand, to live.
Time passed…………….
She lived happily with siddharth – the father of her only child. A loving husband , a splendid family, what else did she want.
Yet there was a part she couldn’t hide…Those searchful eyes…as if still looking for the comfort that he had once found in the arms of someone else…you would be forced to believe…
You think of someone
Yet you desire someone else
You need someone
Yet you want someone else
You live with someone
Yet you cant live without someone else………
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Daddy's Little girl
“Papa, what about Mr Mehta’s order? He called up today, again. How long do you think this truckers’ strike will last?”
“Hmmmn…it’s quite difficult to say sweetheart…”, and he looked at the seat next to him.
Suddenly, he stopped the car with a jerk. The world around him came to a grinding halt. It took a painstakingly long moment for him to realize that he was all alone and that he was driving back home and that his little girl – his heart throb wasn’t with him. He had got so used to her constant chatter, her infectious laughter…
“Honey, No one expects a girl to be laughing this way. Don’t you think it’s high time you learnt how to laugh like a lady?”
“Papa, does it really matter? I mean the way I laugh. It’s the way I am and everybody around me just loves it. They say it kind of suits my personalite.” And with that she gave her dad a huge smile. He had no other option but to smile back.
He was extremely fond of her, there was an air about her – it wasn’t the don’t_care_attitude. She was like a Breeze – a cheerful, happy adolescent whose mere presence brightened up so many lives.
The constant honking of the cars behind brought him crashing back to reality. He started his ignition once again. It had never taken so long as it took today. He switched on the FM. The silence in the Car was unbearable. FM today was a big relief – it helped him escape into a world that wasn’t the “Present”. The FM played “Hello! Is it me you are looking for?” He could feel his eyes turn moist. It used to be her favourite song…She got so involved with the songs ( singing was her passion) that often she had to be reminded she was sitting in the car and it wasn’t her bedroom that she could do whatever she wanted. But he never wanted her to change. In spite of his constant nagging, he knew deep within that his little girl couldn’t let the child inside her die. It surfaced every now and then, amidst giggles, amidst those silly jokes which she loved to crack, times when she was so excited that he felt he’d rather stop the car and calm her down lest she die out of ecstasy or times when he had to hug her while driving for she wouldn’t stop crying – so and so friend had hurt her and if you asked her , she’d point a finger at her heart and say “It’s hurts” and almost immediately you could see a trail of water streaming down her cheeks. Lying back on his driver’s seat, He’d often wondered,
“Will she ever grow up?” but the question he should have asked himself was “Do I really want her to grow up?”
Yes, She grew up. In a single moment.
The traffic lights turned Red. Damn it! Reality hit hard once more…
That night when they drove back, she was unusually quiet. She stared blankly out of the window.
“Do you want me to switch on the FM?”…There was silence. Perhaps she hadn’t heard what he said.
“Hey sweetheart, you want me to switch on the FM?” This time he said it a little louder, hoping she would respond. There was silence…
The world around her had suddenly drifted far away. The honking of the cars, the traffic lights, the sound of fast moving cars, of people on road, all seemed non-existent to her. She was so deep in thoughts. She looked so aloof that it scared him. Suddenly, she had built thick walls around herself, so thick that even if he were given a few lifetimes he wouldn’t be able to get through. He so badly wanted to hold her, hug her, apologize…
True, he had been extremely mad at the staffs. True,he should have had control over his anger. Only, when he had uttered those words, did he realize what he had done. He had lost his little girl forever. The weight of what he had said was so tremendous that he found it difficult to stand. He fell back on his chair with a heavy thud. His little girl didn’t cry like she normally would have. She was calm – as calm as an ocean but the ocean got most dangerous when it was calm. He saw a storm building inside her and he knew it would destroy her. He wanted to cry,
“Little girl, I’m sorry. I never meant it – Please Forgive me.” She was the most loved, the most wanted in his life. How could he have said those words? How could it have come out from his mouth?
In spite of being a child most of the times, she bore a strength that was unbelievable. Things/decisions never happened twice in her life – It was either a yes or a No.
“Papa, I really Love him a Lot.”
“Beta, I don’t want you to see him again. Is that Understood?”
He didn’t have to utter another word. She never brought back that subject again. He often wondered if she’d truly forgotten him or had she the capability of disguising her feelings so well. She smiled, She laughed- now and then she cried but everything happened so fast in her life , it was difficult to say what made her smile or what made her cry. – One moment she laughed, the next moment you saw her howling.
The traffic lights had long since turned green and people were throwing words at him. Everyone seemed in a hurry to get back home. Huh? He started the ignition once again. It never took so long to get back home. He hated the drive. He looked at the rear view mirror.
“Papa”, she exclaimed one day!
“Ya…”, the look on her face took him by surprise.
“I never realized you were so handsome”
He had blushed.
His hair had turned grey in a moment. He suddenly felt Old. His little girl understood him so well. Bits by bits incidents of the past came flashing by…He couldn’t take it anymore… and then the final outburst happened…
“Enough of your Nonsense. When will you be a little more responsible? Were you a Little more responsible you wouldn’t have lost a brother and I a son, 10 yrs back. I lost him all because of you, all because of your sheer carelessness. I am tired of you.”
He stopped the car. He screamed…
“Please forgive me. Come back to me. Your papa cannot live without you. He has been a bad daddy all through. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant what I said.” And he cried and he howled like a Baby…a cry that would have even melted a barbarian’s heart...he felt a pain inside – which a pregnant mother feels when all of a sudden she feels a quietness inside her belly and she realizes at once that she has lost her baby forever…”I am sorry little..”and with that he fell on his knees.
“That night, after they reached home, she sat on her favourite swing, still lost in thoughts. She sat there as quiet as a leaf on a branch when there is no wind to play with it. She had to be reminded that she was expected to have her dinner.
After dinner, she immediately went off to sleep. When he went to check on her, she was fast asleep…
Later that night, as he lay in his room, reading a book – today life was so full of things. He had read 80 pages yet he knew not what he had read. All he had in mind was his little girl. A slight knock on the door, He looked up from the book he had in his hand. There stood his little girl with a teddy bear in her hand.
“Can I sleep with you Papa?”
At last! After what seemed like a never ending phase she spoke. She had never slept with him ever. She always said “ I am a brave girl”. Even when she was 2 yrs of age she preferred doing things on her own.
She walked straight up to him and lay besides him – his arms around her little gal. She held him closely and fell asleep. As she slept, he ran his fingers through her hair. How could he have hurt her? He held her closer than ever. He was too scared to loose her. He lay there wondering why she had wanted to sleep with him. Did it really matter? He was so relieved, he slept peacefully with his arms around his little girl he adored so much.
At around 2 a.m, she woke him up. He looked at her. ”Baby are you ok?” She looked different. It kind of scared him. He realized immediately. He cried. He held her closer.
“Papa..”, she spoke,” You still feel Bhai would have been with us if I were a little more careful?”
Before he could say something, she continued…”But I did all I could. He ran so fast, I couldn’t catch up to him and the next moment he was…” and she cried…
He took her in his arms, crying…” I stood there frozen. Bhai wanted me to know her brother was a He-man that he could jump from a 5th floor and yet not hurt himself. I told him I believed him but he wouldn’t listen. Papa I didn’t want him to die, I loved him so much. I miss him every moment of my life.”. with this she opened the zipper of her teddy’s belly and he had never realized until then why she loved her teddy so much – why she couldn’t part with it. Out flowed her bhai’s favourite toys – broken pieces of cars, his favourite airplane- a wing was left, his favourite pencil…the badge he loved to wear everytime he went out..a He-man…With it poured out letters that she had written to him – not one , not two.. but for the past 10 yrs since he left her…she hadn’t missed a single day. Letters on how much she missed him…He had thought , she had forgotten him with time. Perhaps there were occasions when he seemed to forget the fact that he had a son but she? never once.. He looked at her little girl..this girl who never spoke her mind out had today poured her heart out…”Papa, I didn’t want him to die…I loved him a lot..I cannot live without him.”
“Papa, Please forgive me. I love you a lot..” with this she squeezed her daddy’s hand and held him close one last time..His angel flew away ..far away..perhaps to where her brother was…her hands fell cold in his…
The FM had stopped playing..it had gotten too late..She had understood him that night too.He looked up at the sky – it was a star lit sky . Amongst them were two stars close by, whose brightness outshone the rest. They smiled below …He looked at them ..slowly a calmness came over him…he would always have his little girl around…she could never be to far away from her daddy.
“Hmmmn…it’s quite difficult to say sweetheart…”, and he looked at the seat next to him.
Suddenly, he stopped the car with a jerk. The world around him came to a grinding halt. It took a painstakingly long moment for him to realize that he was all alone and that he was driving back home and that his little girl – his heart throb wasn’t with him. He had got so used to her constant chatter, her infectious laughter…
“Honey, No one expects a girl to be laughing this way. Don’t you think it’s high time you learnt how to laugh like a lady?”
“Papa, does it really matter? I mean the way I laugh. It’s the way I am and everybody around me just loves it. They say it kind of suits my personalite.” And with that she gave her dad a huge smile. He had no other option but to smile back.
He was extremely fond of her, there was an air about her – it wasn’t the don’t_care_attitude. She was like a Breeze – a cheerful, happy adolescent whose mere presence brightened up so many lives.
The constant honking of the cars behind brought him crashing back to reality. He started his ignition once again. It had never taken so long as it took today. He switched on the FM. The silence in the Car was unbearable. FM today was a big relief – it helped him escape into a world that wasn’t the “Present”. The FM played “Hello! Is it me you are looking for?” He could feel his eyes turn moist. It used to be her favourite song…She got so involved with the songs ( singing was her passion) that often she had to be reminded she was sitting in the car and it wasn’t her bedroom that she could do whatever she wanted. But he never wanted her to change. In spite of his constant nagging, he knew deep within that his little girl couldn’t let the child inside her die. It surfaced every now and then, amidst giggles, amidst those silly jokes which she loved to crack, times when she was so excited that he felt he’d rather stop the car and calm her down lest she die out of ecstasy or times when he had to hug her while driving for she wouldn’t stop crying – so and so friend had hurt her and if you asked her , she’d point a finger at her heart and say “It’s hurts” and almost immediately you could see a trail of water streaming down her cheeks. Lying back on his driver’s seat, He’d often wondered,
“Will she ever grow up?” but the question he should have asked himself was “Do I really want her to grow up?”
Yes, She grew up. In a single moment.
The traffic lights turned Red. Damn it! Reality hit hard once more…
That night when they drove back, she was unusually quiet. She stared blankly out of the window.
“Do you want me to switch on the FM?”…There was silence. Perhaps she hadn’t heard what he said.
“Hey sweetheart, you want me to switch on the FM?” This time he said it a little louder, hoping she would respond. There was silence…
The world around her had suddenly drifted far away. The honking of the cars, the traffic lights, the sound of fast moving cars, of people on road, all seemed non-existent to her. She was so deep in thoughts. She looked so aloof that it scared him. Suddenly, she had built thick walls around herself, so thick that even if he were given a few lifetimes he wouldn’t be able to get through. He so badly wanted to hold her, hug her, apologize…
True, he had been extremely mad at the staffs. True,he should have had control over his anger. Only, when he had uttered those words, did he realize what he had done. He had lost his little girl forever. The weight of what he had said was so tremendous that he found it difficult to stand. He fell back on his chair with a heavy thud. His little girl didn’t cry like she normally would have. She was calm – as calm as an ocean but the ocean got most dangerous when it was calm. He saw a storm building inside her and he knew it would destroy her. He wanted to cry,
“Little girl, I’m sorry. I never meant it – Please Forgive me.” She was the most loved, the most wanted in his life. How could he have said those words? How could it have come out from his mouth?
In spite of being a child most of the times, she bore a strength that was unbelievable. Things/decisions never happened twice in her life – It was either a yes or a No.
“Papa, I really Love him a Lot.”
“Beta, I don’t want you to see him again. Is that Understood?”
He didn’t have to utter another word. She never brought back that subject again. He often wondered if she’d truly forgotten him or had she the capability of disguising her feelings so well. She smiled, She laughed- now and then she cried but everything happened so fast in her life , it was difficult to say what made her smile or what made her cry. – One moment she laughed, the next moment you saw her howling.
The traffic lights had long since turned green and people were throwing words at him. Everyone seemed in a hurry to get back home. Huh? He started the ignition once again. It never took so long to get back home. He hated the drive. He looked at the rear view mirror.
“Papa”, she exclaimed one day!
“Ya…”, the look on her face took him by surprise.
“I never realized you were so handsome”
He had blushed.
His hair had turned grey in a moment. He suddenly felt Old. His little girl understood him so well. Bits by bits incidents of the past came flashing by…He couldn’t take it anymore… and then the final outburst happened…
“Enough of your Nonsense. When will you be a little more responsible? Were you a Little more responsible you wouldn’t have lost a brother and I a son, 10 yrs back. I lost him all because of you, all because of your sheer carelessness. I am tired of you.”
He stopped the car. He screamed…
“Please forgive me. Come back to me. Your papa cannot live without you. He has been a bad daddy all through. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant what I said.” And he cried and he howled like a Baby…a cry that would have even melted a barbarian’s heart...he felt a pain inside – which a pregnant mother feels when all of a sudden she feels a quietness inside her belly and she realizes at once that she has lost her baby forever…”I am sorry little..”and with that he fell on his knees.
“That night, after they reached home, she sat on her favourite swing, still lost in thoughts. She sat there as quiet as a leaf on a branch when there is no wind to play with it. She had to be reminded that she was expected to have her dinner.
After dinner, she immediately went off to sleep. When he went to check on her, she was fast asleep…
Later that night, as he lay in his room, reading a book – today life was so full of things. He had read 80 pages yet he knew not what he had read. All he had in mind was his little girl. A slight knock on the door, He looked up from the book he had in his hand. There stood his little girl with a teddy bear in her hand.
“Can I sleep with you Papa?”
At last! After what seemed like a never ending phase she spoke. She had never slept with him ever. She always said “ I am a brave girl”. Even when she was 2 yrs of age she preferred doing things on her own.
She walked straight up to him and lay besides him – his arms around her little gal. She held him closely and fell asleep. As she slept, he ran his fingers through her hair. How could he have hurt her? He held her closer than ever. He was too scared to loose her. He lay there wondering why she had wanted to sleep with him. Did it really matter? He was so relieved, he slept peacefully with his arms around his little girl he adored so much.
At around 2 a.m, she woke him up. He looked at her. ”Baby are you ok?” She looked different. It kind of scared him. He realized immediately. He cried. He held her closer.
“Papa..”, she spoke,” You still feel Bhai would have been with us if I were a little more careful?”
Before he could say something, she continued…”But I did all I could. He ran so fast, I couldn’t catch up to him and the next moment he was…” and she cried…
He took her in his arms, crying…” I stood there frozen. Bhai wanted me to know her brother was a He-man that he could jump from a 5th floor and yet not hurt himself. I told him I believed him but he wouldn’t listen. Papa I didn’t want him to die, I loved him so much. I miss him every moment of my life.”. with this she opened the zipper of her teddy’s belly and he had never realized until then why she loved her teddy so much – why she couldn’t part with it. Out flowed her bhai’s favourite toys – broken pieces of cars, his favourite airplane- a wing was left, his favourite pencil…the badge he loved to wear everytime he went out..a He-man…With it poured out letters that she had written to him – not one , not two.. but for the past 10 yrs since he left her…she hadn’t missed a single day. Letters on how much she missed him…He had thought , she had forgotten him with time. Perhaps there were occasions when he seemed to forget the fact that he had a son but she? never once.. He looked at her little girl..this girl who never spoke her mind out had today poured her heart out…”Papa, I didn’t want him to die…I loved him a lot..I cannot live without him.”
“Papa, Please forgive me. I love you a lot..” with this she squeezed her daddy’s hand and held him close one last time..His angel flew away ..far away..perhaps to where her brother was…her hands fell cold in his…
The FM had stopped playing..it had gotten too late..She had understood him that night too.He looked up at the sky – it was a star lit sky . Amongst them were two stars close by, whose brightness outshone the rest. They smiled below …He looked at them ..slowly a calmness came over him…he would always have his little girl around…she could never be to far away from her daddy.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
I Miss India
I miss India – I miss those little things about my country which made me angry to no ends and saw me hurling abuses at it time and again. Life has its own way of making you realize the value of those little things left unnoticed, ignored somewhere in the past. I miss the local trains of Mumbai which stank of human sweat, I miss the puchka wala with his dirty hand dipping the puchka in the spicy water, I miss sitting on the rickshaw, I miss bargaining for the cheapest of things in the bazaar and felt a sudden thrill running down my spine if I managed even a Rs 5 off, I miss my neighbour’s constant peeps from her window down my bedroom, I miss the bai’s constant grumbling over money - her late husband, her daughter, her brother in law, I miss the flooded roads and the dirt that accumulated after that, I miss the hot humid weather of that place, I miss those cold wars I had with my flat mates, I miss those ‘dead hour of night’ calls from friends just because they wanted to share a stupid joke, I miss the nospace closeness – the comfort of my friends, I miss talking in hindi, I miss a bucket and mug while taking a bath, I miss those hated conversations which lasted for hours, I miss the constant plea in my mom’s voice asking me to eat something, I miss everyone being so bothered about my life. Now that I am far away from it, I miss all of it and the feeling is so overwhelming that suddenly the flood gates of my eyes are thrown open and my soul feels so completely drenched.
There is a coldness about this place which freezes me to death – those silent killing stares as if I am an alien ( I am , am I not ?), the monosyllabic talks, indifference from people of my own country who’ve settled here, asking me what the hell am I doing here? (Suddenly I feel like striking back – I feel like using my venomous tongue and ending it all), the deserted streets at five in the evening? I remember being out with my friends till 3 in the morning, I remember working in the office till 1 in the morning, I remember getting up in the middle of the night and taking my flatmates along to an ice cream parlour to have my favourite vanilla flavour; time here chuckles ‘Catch me if you can’ and all of a sudden I feel like Alice in wonderland ( wonderland isn’t the appropriate word though) – time never felt so limited in my country, the gloomy weather adds to it ( it’s the best since the past 178 years they tell me, huh?)
Is it because I am in such a small city, that I experience this? I question. London will definitely be better. I wonder?
I can still feel the numbness in me when I am out on the streets. Even If I were found dead, no one would know. I would just become one of the unknown faces found dead.
Nothing in world can compare to my country – that’s where my roots are and thats where I belong and no matter where I go and what I do, I will want to come back to my country because home is where the heart is …
There is a coldness about this place which freezes me to death – those silent killing stares as if I am an alien ( I am , am I not ?), the monosyllabic talks, indifference from people of my own country who’ve settled here, asking me what the hell am I doing here? (Suddenly I feel like striking back – I feel like using my venomous tongue and ending it all), the deserted streets at five in the evening? I remember being out with my friends till 3 in the morning, I remember working in the office till 1 in the morning, I remember getting up in the middle of the night and taking my flatmates along to an ice cream parlour to have my favourite vanilla flavour; time here chuckles ‘Catch me if you can’ and all of a sudden I feel like Alice in wonderland ( wonderland isn’t the appropriate word though) – time never felt so limited in my country, the gloomy weather adds to it ( it’s the best since the past 178 years they tell me, huh?)
Is it because I am in such a small city, that I experience this? I question. London will definitely be better. I wonder?
I can still feel the numbness in me when I am out on the streets. Even If I were found dead, no one would know. I would just become one of the unknown faces found dead.
Nothing in world can compare to my country – that’s where my roots are and thats where I belong and no matter where I go and what I do, I will want to come back to my country because home is where the heart is …
Walking down memory lane
Nikhil says he is amazed to see how I so clearly remember my past. It’s true. It amazes me too. Little incidents which seem most likely to have faded away from the realm of the mind, comes to mind when I am least expecting it. My life so far has been extremely eventful and to add to it, I have a legendary memory so nothing escapes it. But off late it is getting quite difficult for me to carry on this way. My past interferes with my present making my life hell most of the times. At times I feel, I am so full of my past that I am finding it difficult to be in the present, to deal with my life.
I wish to empty myself, a little every day till I am ready to contain my present and this is my first attempt to it. While writing this, I thought of Sweta – well, let’s start with Sweta. I met her first in the September of 1994 at a coaching class. Though she was in the same class as mine, I had somehow failed to notice her. On the first appearance, she appeared someone who came straight from the late 60’s with the kind of skirt and sandals she wore. She gradually came to be someone closest to my heart. It’s been more than fourteen years since I first met her. She is married and has a baby girl. We were opposites – she was beautiful, well behaved, sang horribly, was fun to be with. I was cute, tomboyish, fat, sang far better than her, was fun to be with too. And I guess that’s where we clicked – We wore naughty boy shoes to school, inspite of the constant reminder “you are supposed to act like a lady” , wore watches ten times larger than the size of our wrists, had our socks folded always, and we fought! That’s how people spotted us. We fought and we fought till we had things our way. It thrilled us, gave a joy which only we could feel. There were others things we did which gave us immense pleasure like, placing boards pin on the chair where Mr. Jha would sit, or flattening the tyre of Mr. Pradip’s scooter. We didn’t believe in verbal abuses, it had to be fists. I remember the time in class 8, when Poonam’s glasses went flying off. It was great. I remember the time when, Sweta sang so horribly and so loudly that it caught Mrs. Banerjee’s attention and need I mention we were thrown out of the class. And to Sweta’s guts she continued singing and teaching me the lyrics of the song “Mustafa Mustafa”. We were good at studies so grades were never a problem but we were jealous and competitive. Come exams and it saw the other part to us – most of the times we ended up getting more –or –less the same grades though I always beat her at that ..Yes Yes Yes! She had crushes on the same people as I and we secretly discussed about it before classes, in between classes, after classes, during breaks, after breaks, in the bus, while walking back home, over the telephone, over coffee, over lunch, in the toilets, outside the male teachers’ toilet – the only time we didn’t discuss was when with the concerned person. Then we were at our best trying to impress him in our own stupid way.
We used love calculators - day in and day out. Sweta and I both loved drawing as well as singing. She loved dancing, I loved books. She loved shopping, I did too but vegetables and grocery. She had loads of admirers, I had close to none. She looked up to me to come up with lines dipped in venom or with a strong sarcastic tone. She enjoyed it. It thrilled her as I sat besides her commenting on everyone and everything. We laughed till it hurt our tummies. We loved picnics, it gave us a chance for adventure and we turned wild. For 11 and 12th she moved to a different school. I stayed back. Life was still the same. We spent most of the times with each other. Around that time I took a keen interest in astrology, palmistry and handwriting analysis. She was busy with her so many admirers. It never much bothered me. Our lives were always quite different. We were different yet were quite similar. We chose to walk two different paths and each had to be alone in the journey. Time just flew – never realized when we grew from being those two little school girls wearing skirts to girls going to college. Sweta stayed back in Siliguri, I moved to Kolkata. Things remained unchanged. Nothing could come in between us. We understood each other just perfectly.
After my college I went to Mudra for my post graduation, specializing in advertising, Sweta still was at Siliguri. Life changed for me completely at Mudra. I loved every bit of it. I became independent beyond recognition. I discovered a part of me which still was hidden. I discovered Me and this changed me and my life forever. Hadn’t I gone to Mudra, I would have been married too by now – horribly frustrated and wanting to cut all ties unlike Sweta. Call it a love for freedom or a stubbornness to lead life my way, call it a dislike to share my space with someone or a fear of being close to someone, call it a disgust for household chores and the mundane routine or the running away from it, Call it a desire to break away from the rules laid down or the burning desire to do something, I chose a different path. I haven’t seen much of her lately but I know she is there. She is married to a wonderful man and I am sure her daughter looks as beautiful as she is. Inspite of all this closeness, a part of me has always stood hidden from her, a vital part of my life. I have always been quite wary about sharing myself completely with someone- it might have been a fear of exposing my true self, a fear of rejection or simply a never-in-a-mood to share. But yes she is a very special part of my life. I am waiting to return to India and catch up with her. So many incidents lie hidden behind these various layers of months, seasons and years of knowing her. A few of the things common between us-
Bright coaching centre, Mewad icecream, Picnics, Sachin Sharad Rahul; Ms Jhumki and her moped, Raja Sir, and their romantic encounters; Sanjay Sir and Ms Grower and “ Ajee sunte hain, thoda chana lake dijiye na” or “aap chup rahiye”, Suraj Anant Praveen Anuj and the Maggi Quiz, Ashok and his zero and mayuri dance ha ha ha! Pradeep Sir and Circus, Hirawat and the Kadamtala, Prateek and Nawab :O) The list can go on and on …Those few years really made me strong and equipped me with the confidence and attitude which I would need in the coming years.
I wish to empty myself, a little every day till I am ready to contain my present and this is my first attempt to it. While writing this, I thought of Sweta – well, let’s start with Sweta. I met her first in the September of 1994 at a coaching class. Though she was in the same class as mine, I had somehow failed to notice her. On the first appearance, she appeared someone who came straight from the late 60’s with the kind of skirt and sandals she wore. She gradually came to be someone closest to my heart. It’s been more than fourteen years since I first met her. She is married and has a baby girl. We were opposites – she was beautiful, well behaved, sang horribly, was fun to be with. I was cute, tomboyish, fat, sang far better than her, was fun to be with too. And I guess that’s where we clicked – We wore naughty boy shoes to school, inspite of the constant reminder “you are supposed to act like a lady” , wore watches ten times larger than the size of our wrists, had our socks folded always, and we fought! That’s how people spotted us. We fought and we fought till we had things our way. It thrilled us, gave a joy which only we could feel. There were others things we did which gave us immense pleasure like, placing boards pin on the chair where Mr. Jha would sit, or flattening the tyre of Mr. Pradip’s scooter. We didn’t believe in verbal abuses, it had to be fists. I remember the time in class 8, when Poonam’s glasses went flying off. It was great. I remember the time when, Sweta sang so horribly and so loudly that it caught Mrs. Banerjee’s attention and need I mention we were thrown out of the class. And to Sweta’s guts she continued singing and teaching me the lyrics of the song “Mustafa Mustafa”. We were good at studies so grades were never a problem but we were jealous and competitive. Come exams and it saw the other part to us – most of the times we ended up getting more –or –less the same grades though I always beat her at that ..Yes Yes Yes! She had crushes on the same people as I and we secretly discussed about it before classes, in between classes, after classes, during breaks, after breaks, in the bus, while walking back home, over the telephone, over coffee, over lunch, in the toilets, outside the male teachers’ toilet – the only time we didn’t discuss was when with the concerned person. Then we were at our best trying to impress him in our own stupid way.
We used love calculators - day in and day out. Sweta and I both loved drawing as well as singing. She loved dancing, I loved books. She loved shopping, I did too but vegetables and grocery. She had loads of admirers, I had close to none. She looked up to me to come up with lines dipped in venom or with a strong sarcastic tone. She enjoyed it. It thrilled her as I sat besides her commenting on everyone and everything. We laughed till it hurt our tummies. We loved picnics, it gave us a chance for adventure and we turned wild. For 11 and 12th she moved to a different school. I stayed back. Life was still the same. We spent most of the times with each other. Around that time I took a keen interest in astrology, palmistry and handwriting analysis. She was busy with her so many admirers. It never much bothered me. Our lives were always quite different. We were different yet were quite similar. We chose to walk two different paths and each had to be alone in the journey. Time just flew – never realized when we grew from being those two little school girls wearing skirts to girls going to college. Sweta stayed back in Siliguri, I moved to Kolkata. Things remained unchanged. Nothing could come in between us. We understood each other just perfectly.
After my college I went to Mudra for my post graduation, specializing in advertising, Sweta still was at Siliguri. Life changed for me completely at Mudra. I loved every bit of it. I became independent beyond recognition. I discovered a part of me which still was hidden. I discovered Me and this changed me and my life forever. Hadn’t I gone to Mudra, I would have been married too by now – horribly frustrated and wanting to cut all ties unlike Sweta. Call it a love for freedom or a stubbornness to lead life my way, call it a dislike to share my space with someone or a fear of being close to someone, call it a disgust for household chores and the mundane routine or the running away from it, Call it a desire to break away from the rules laid down or the burning desire to do something, I chose a different path. I haven’t seen much of her lately but I know she is there. She is married to a wonderful man and I am sure her daughter looks as beautiful as she is. Inspite of all this closeness, a part of me has always stood hidden from her, a vital part of my life. I have always been quite wary about sharing myself completely with someone- it might have been a fear of exposing my true self, a fear of rejection or simply a never-in-a-mood to share. But yes she is a very special part of my life. I am waiting to return to India and catch up with her. So many incidents lie hidden behind these various layers of months, seasons and years of knowing her. A few of the things common between us-
Bright coaching centre, Mewad icecream, Picnics, Sachin Sharad Rahul; Ms Jhumki and her moped, Raja Sir, and their romantic encounters; Sanjay Sir and Ms Grower and “ Ajee sunte hain, thoda chana lake dijiye na” or “aap chup rahiye”, Suraj Anant Praveen Anuj and the Maggi Quiz, Ashok and his zero and mayuri dance ha ha ha! Pradeep Sir and Circus, Hirawat and the Kadamtala, Prateek and Nawab :O) The list can go on and on …Those few years really made me strong and equipped me with the confidence and attitude which I would need in the coming years.
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