I think I just found another missing jigsaw piece :)
I've got magic beans. Forever and always. <3 p="p">
I've got magic beans. Forever and always. <3 p="p">
Thursday, August 02, 2012
Thursday, July 12, 2012
22 years and it still hasn't gotten easier on this day without you. Strange, as I have no idea who you were. Vague memories that I'm not even sure of anymore....whether they are real memories or stories that I have fashioned into memories. It scares me...will I forget even that one day? One day in the year that I shed the persona I have adopted and revert to the curly-haired toddler attached to her 'Da-Da'. Even if I tried, I can't remain composed throughout. It is tedious. I hope you are proud of who I am and all that I have achieved. Your letter swims in front of my eyes. I know I will go back home and re-read it, like I always do. I know I will weep, knowing you loved me so much. I know I will be angry that I could not love you as much. Yet I still do. Very much. You are me. You live in me. And hopefully while I am in 'deef sleef', I will hug you and tell you how much I love you, even without knowing you. Tota and Tia will always be magical. I envy that brat. She got more than I do now. But I know...somewhere... I will always be your little girl. Now and for always.
Sunday, July 01, 2012
Into the Wild
“I now walk into the wild.”
Perhaps not the best frame of mind to have picked up this book. Mind already ravaged by Old Boy. Hence somewhere this was a potential disaster just itching to happen. However having already watched the film, I was not entirely unprepared for the trip. So when pushed by SG to plunge into the world of Alexander Supertramp, I did.
The book leaves me grieving, bothered,disturbed yet somewhere hopeful too. I have my issues with a narrative that is told through the author. Despite Krakauer's promise that he will remain but a shadow in the tale of Alex, it did not come across as such. Somewhere I fear Alex deserved a better story-teller.The author's presence loomed throughout in a not-so-subtle way that irked me till the point about Devil's Thumb. Then it made sense. The author's identification with Alex explains the peculiar omnipresence throughout the book. But then again, there could have and indeed should have been a far better way of putting it.
The writing style does lack the feel of a book and smells suspiciously like an article pushing the boundaries. Which is no wonder considering the author built up on exactly that. It might not be the best written book, but its subject/content is powerful. But here is the deal, not for the reasons that perhaps the book is so well-loved. Alex's journey for truth, to find himself, to be alive leaves one wishing for the same, yes. Especially for ones like me who have such a cynical disposition to the world and sometimes life. But somewhere, for somethings, I feel myself agreeing with the ones who did find fault. Perhaps if he had been better prepared, he would have survived. But then this story would never have been. The life Alex chose to live is ROMANTIC because he did not survive. Had he lived, he'd have been just another traveller and the world would have never known Alexander Supertramp. His death resulting in his story, is the reason for many to admire him and want to live that life or the romantic notion of that life.
One word that stood out for me was Hubris. I was pleasantly surprised to find that word creep into this book. But that makes sense. It is a tragedy as even the Greeks would play it. And Alex will be the hero. Fallen because of hubris. Having said that, I don't imply that he was a pigheaded, stubborn, arrogant prick. What moved me was that he was able to pursue his dream...his Odyssey..even if it was only for a while. What better way to leave this world, if not doing what you love or with those you love?
But I am jealous. Because it seems unreal and next to impossible for me to do what he did. It is Romantic. Especially in a set up in this country. What made his adventure possible was that he was NOT born in India, NOT a girl, NOT tied down to social obligations. In this country it is simply not possible to up and go. Those who think a life like Alex's is possible, perhaps are kidding themselves. Traveling without a rupee in your pocket? You won't get as far Park Circus/New Friends Colony. People here do no give lifts. PERIOD. Try that in Delhi.Just Try. People are scared/paranoid/heartless...perhaps I am generalising a bit but that's the truth. It's a dream if you want to walk Alex's road. Okay...even if you did by some divine intervention found people to keep giving you lifts to wherever it is you want to go to find yourself, you are therefore male. Imagine for one instant you are a girl. Hitchhiking? In this country? There goes my dream of being Supertramp. And coming to social obligations....we are bound to the people we know. It has been ingrained in us that family comes first. No matter how detached you think you can be, you can never truly detach yourself. It may not make a difference to your life, but there will 5 others who will be affected by your actions. Hence somewhere our actions are curbed. We live in a society where on being born our wings are clipped. We kid ourselves thinking we have learnt to fly flapping those broken wings. And perhaps we can fly just that much. That is the freedom we are allowed. We sit in our homes, write long facebook posts about freedom and wanting to be liberated but the hard truth is that this is as much freedom we will see. And we need to accept it.....at some point. Herein I envy Alex...I would like nothing best than to be on the road...to be free...to be me. But life comes with a price. Not necessarily a bad thing albeit a little stifling sometimes.
Personally what moved me to tears was the sense of loss. Death is an old friend to me, so I identify with losing someone you love. A mother's loss, a sister's loss....I identify so much with it. And so somewhere I feel anger towards Alex for being selfish. Because he was. While he justified his actions, he left behind so much pain. He went on to the great Alaskan Paradise in Heaven (???) but left behind those who will continue to feel his absence everyday. Yes people die...but somehow Alex's story could have been different and that's what makes it worse. I have lost too many people to be able to feel exactly how Billie, Walt and Carine felt. And it is not fair. The only solace I could draw that abated by anger is that perhaps towards the end, Alex realised that he cannot be alone. “HAPPINESS [is] ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED” . Perhaps he did realise the worth of people and human intimacy.
I too lost an uncle to the Everest. He went on an expedition and met a blizzard and never came back. We hoped that by some miracle he would be back. His brother stopped living for 20 years...gave up everything but hope till the point came when even the hope was lost. Only solace? That mama was lost doing what he loved best. Maybe he isn't lost...maybe like Alex he just did not want to go home. But to us...we live everyday feeling the loss...
Into the Wild is a book that seems flawed but real. It doesn't inspire me to up and leave, it does however inspire me to find myself. The little that Alex did know about himself, it was crystal clear. I am nowhere close to finding such clarity. Alex inspires me to find myself.
So a note to S: Thank you for this book. Perhaps it did not evoke the kind of reactions you expected but it has evoked. That in itself is a lot. This is a book I will not forget easily, because it has not been an easy read. But it has inspired. It has motivated me enough to even write this. And for this I am grateful. So S, thank you for nudging me little further down the road to finding the truth...even if the truth is only about me...
Alexander Supertramp lives on in all of us...all those who have the privilege to dream...
Perhaps not the best frame of mind to have picked up this book. Mind already ravaged by Old Boy. Hence somewhere this was a potential disaster just itching to happen. However having already watched the film, I was not entirely unprepared for the trip. So when pushed by SG to plunge into the world of Alexander Supertramp, I did.
The book leaves me grieving, bothered,disturbed yet somewhere hopeful too. I have my issues with a narrative that is told through the author. Despite Krakauer's promise that he will remain but a shadow in the tale of Alex, it did not come across as such. Somewhere I fear Alex deserved a better story-teller.The author's presence loomed throughout in a not-so-subtle way that irked me till the point about Devil's Thumb. Then it made sense. The author's identification with Alex explains the peculiar omnipresence throughout the book. But then again, there could have and indeed should have been a far better way of putting it.
The writing style does lack the feel of a book and smells suspiciously like an article pushing the boundaries. Which is no wonder considering the author built up on exactly that. It might not be the best written book, but its subject/content is powerful. But here is the deal, not for the reasons that perhaps the book is so well-loved. Alex's journey for truth, to find himself, to be alive leaves one wishing for the same, yes. Especially for ones like me who have such a cynical disposition to the world and sometimes life. But somewhere, for somethings, I feel myself agreeing with the ones who did find fault. Perhaps if he had been better prepared, he would have survived. But then this story would never have been. The life Alex chose to live is ROMANTIC because he did not survive. Had he lived, he'd have been just another traveller and the world would have never known Alexander Supertramp. His death resulting in his story, is the reason for many to admire him and want to live that life or the romantic notion of that life.
One word that stood out for me was Hubris. I was pleasantly surprised to find that word creep into this book. But that makes sense. It is a tragedy as even the Greeks would play it. And Alex will be the hero. Fallen because of hubris. Having said that, I don't imply that he was a pigheaded, stubborn, arrogant prick. What moved me was that he was able to pursue his dream...his Odyssey..even if it was only for a while. What better way to leave this world, if not doing what you love or with those you love?
But I am jealous. Because it seems unreal and next to impossible for me to do what he did. It is Romantic. Especially in a set up in this country. What made his adventure possible was that he was NOT born in India, NOT a girl, NOT tied down to social obligations. In this country it is simply not possible to up and go. Those who think a life like Alex's is possible, perhaps are kidding themselves. Traveling without a rupee in your pocket? You won't get as far Park Circus/New Friends Colony. People here do no give lifts. PERIOD. Try that in Delhi.Just Try. People are scared/paranoid/heartless...perhaps I am generalising a bit but that's the truth. It's a dream if you want to walk Alex's road. Okay...even if you did by some divine intervention found people to keep giving you lifts to wherever it is you want to go to find yourself, you are therefore male. Imagine for one instant you are a girl. Hitchhiking? In this country? There goes my dream of being Supertramp. And coming to social obligations....we are bound to the people we know. It has been ingrained in us that family comes first. No matter how detached you think you can be, you can never truly detach yourself. It may not make a difference to your life, but there will 5 others who will be affected by your actions. Hence somewhere our actions are curbed. We live in a society where on being born our wings are clipped. We kid ourselves thinking we have learnt to fly flapping those broken wings. And perhaps we can fly just that much. That is the freedom we are allowed. We sit in our homes, write long facebook posts about freedom and wanting to be liberated but the hard truth is that this is as much freedom we will see. And we need to accept it.....at some point. Herein I envy Alex...I would like nothing best than to be on the road...to be free...to be me. But life comes with a price. Not necessarily a bad thing albeit a little stifling sometimes.
Personally what moved me to tears was the sense of loss. Death is an old friend to me, so I identify with losing someone you love. A mother's loss, a sister's loss....I identify so much with it. And so somewhere I feel anger towards Alex for being selfish. Because he was. While he justified his actions, he left behind so much pain. He went on to the great Alaskan Paradise in Heaven (???) but left behind those who will continue to feel his absence everyday. Yes people die...but somehow Alex's story could have been different and that's what makes it worse. I have lost too many people to be able to feel exactly how Billie, Walt and Carine felt. And it is not fair. The only solace I could draw that abated by anger is that perhaps towards the end, Alex realised that he cannot be alone. “HAPPINESS [is] ONLY REAL WHEN SHARED” . Perhaps he did realise the worth of people and human intimacy.
I too lost an uncle to the Everest. He went on an expedition and met a blizzard and never came back. We hoped that by some miracle he would be back. His brother stopped living for 20 years...gave up everything but hope till the point came when even the hope was lost. Only solace? That mama was lost doing what he loved best. Maybe he isn't lost...maybe like Alex he just did not want to go home. But to us...we live everyday feeling the loss...
Into the Wild is a book that seems flawed but real. It doesn't inspire me to up and leave, it does however inspire me to find myself. The little that Alex did know about himself, it was crystal clear. I am nowhere close to finding such clarity. Alex inspires me to find myself.
So a note to S: Thank you for this book. Perhaps it did not evoke the kind of reactions you expected but it has evoked. That in itself is a lot. This is a book I will not forget easily, because it has not been an easy read. But it has inspired. It has motivated me enough to even write this. And for this I am grateful. So S, thank you for nudging me little further down the road to finding the truth...even if the truth is only about me...
Alexander Supertramp lives on in all of us...all those who have the privilege to dream...
Monday, June 04, 2012
Monday anyway brings the blues but this one in particular leaves me so hollow. Just seems like I've lost the will to do anything.I can feel a hollow pit inside me. I cant scream anymore. I cant fight anymore. I yield. I yield to the darkness. I yield to what must be done. I yield to that which is tearing me up inside.
I wish it was different. I wish I could turn back time and revisit the times when we did not pretend....wishful thinking I suppose led to this excruciatingly painful time. What distresses me the most is that I've forgotten how to wear the mask. I cant seem to be able to don my 'Everything is peachy' face.It slips off almost as soon as I wear it. I know this feeling...it's the singlemost uncomfortable and unpleasant feeling I have felt. The sense of loss....
Yes I will get over it, yes I know these things happen, yes I know it's for the best blah fuckity blah. But does it change the fact that right now I want to curl into a ball and stay like that? What do you do when the one person you want to talk to, who will help ease the pain, is the reason for the pain? Lost...
I just want to ramble on but must curb my enthusiasm here. Somethings are best left unsaid. Perhaps that's the problem. We leave too much unsaid. But then again we say so much by not saying anything at all.I can see my thoughts unraveling at a rapid pace.I shall just shut up and hope to god this passes soon.
I wish it was different. I wish I could turn back time and revisit the times when we did not pretend....wishful thinking I suppose led to this excruciatingly painful time. What distresses me the most is that I've forgotten how to wear the mask. I cant seem to be able to don my 'Everything is peachy' face.It slips off almost as soon as I wear it. I know this feeling...it's the singlemost uncomfortable and unpleasant feeling I have felt. The sense of loss....
Yes I will get over it, yes I know these things happen, yes I know it's for the best blah fuckity blah. But does it change the fact that right now I want to curl into a ball and stay like that? What do you do when the one person you want to talk to, who will help ease the pain, is the reason for the pain? Lost...
I just want to ramble on but must curb my enthusiasm here. Somethings are best left unsaid. Perhaps that's the problem. We leave too much unsaid. But then again we say so much by not saying anything at all.I can see my thoughts unraveling at a rapid pace.I shall just shut up and hope to god this passes soon.
Monday, May 28, 2012
A week into the new house yet it hasn't quite settled in. Perhaps it's just the impending depression hanging over my head. D-day has arrived. Tomorrow will be the end of yet another era. Time to look back and take in all the mad dancing, uncontrollable laughter, the flowing tears, the bad fights, the unfortunate misunderstandings, the bi-zarre adventures...damn! 2 years flew by so fast....too fast. There was still so much we were supposed to do together. Unfinished business...something I suppose I should hold on to for the next few years. The hope that we will do all the silly, mundane things we had planned. For now it's just...little boxes, little boxes...
One would assume that by now I'd have gotten used to watching people leave. Clearly not. I cannot begin to fathom how I will walk out of that railway station once I watch the last wisps of the engine smoke disappear into the sky. But then again I'm being selfish. She too will have a raincloud over her head...though she won't show it. Brave one she is. I'm just a wuss. A sentimental wuss. But...she's not going to an empty house, I am. Somewhere that emptiness I can already feel...preemptive strike....
We did live our dream but did it really have to be that short-lived? I could happily settle for another 5 years or so. I know I have to let her go. She must grow and find herself. But can't help feeling like a ton of bricks have settled comfortable on my heart. Goodbyes are never sweet. Yes we will hug each other, smile through our tears but the gut wrenching pain and sorrow that is lurking around the corner will wash over us. So dear world, give us the strength to recover soon. Give us the strength to love and trust. Help us miss but with a smile. May we sleep, content and at peace. Somewhere time will slow down....somewhere time will fly by. Before I know it, I'll be back at the station, waiting to receive and not see off.
Here's to you, kid. Shine whereever your passion leads you. Smile when you think of me. Be brave. Have the strength to overcome every obstacle...physically or mentally. Live fiercely. Love who you are and what you do. Remember the smells and sounds. Do this...and be happy my chotu. Love you lots.
My life would suck without you :)
One would assume that by now I'd have gotten used to watching people leave. Clearly not. I cannot begin to fathom how I will walk out of that railway station once I watch the last wisps of the engine smoke disappear into the sky. But then again I'm being selfish. She too will have a raincloud over her head...though she won't show it. Brave one she is. I'm just a wuss. A sentimental wuss. But...she's not going to an empty house, I am. Somewhere that emptiness I can already feel...preemptive strike....
We did live our dream but did it really have to be that short-lived? I could happily settle for another 5 years or so. I know I have to let her go. She must grow and find herself. But can't help feeling like a ton of bricks have settled comfortable on my heart. Goodbyes are never sweet. Yes we will hug each other, smile through our tears but the gut wrenching pain and sorrow that is lurking around the corner will wash over us. So dear world, give us the strength to recover soon. Give us the strength to love and trust. Help us miss but with a smile. May we sleep, content and at peace. Somewhere time will slow down....somewhere time will fly by. Before I know it, I'll be back at the station, waiting to receive and not see off.
Here's to you, kid. Shine whereever your passion leads you. Smile when you think of me. Be brave. Have the strength to overcome every obstacle...physically or mentally. Live fiercely. Love who you are and what you do. Remember the smells and sounds. Do this...and be happy my chotu. Love you lots.
My life would suck without you :)
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Promise made, promise kept...
This is keeping a promise made to a dear friend, perhaps one of the very few people who do read my blog.:) So thank you N.
I shall explain to you why there are these sporadic posts. Most of the time I have nothing to write about :( I write when I need to vent, when I experience extreme emotions and sometimes when I think oh shit its been a while.Tu comprende? But since you said nice things about me, I shall be a good girl and write (try) more regularly.
So after 1 and half years in this house, it is time to bid adieu to it. I remember huffing and puffing up the stairs with 2 suitcases and a backpack. My life in 2 suitcases and a backpack. Yet as I get ready to move into my own little place, I realise I have so much stuff!! Stuff acquired over the months which have no meaning, that mean too much, stuff I cannot do without, stuff that makes me want to go "WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!!" Yet it is mine. I need a tempo to move all these things...and I realise everything I possess is truly mine. From the random gold pompoms to the fridge...I am responsible for them. And there is sense of pride somewhere. I feel like an adult now; ready to set up a home. I will no longer operate out of a room to call my own but a house. It's giving me sleepless nights and I am scared shitless too but there is a sense of thrill and excitement too.That feeling is like a pressure cooker about to start whistling. I dont have a plan, I dont know how I'll do it. All I know is that I have to and I will. Maybe I will cry myself to sleep for a month, maybe I will feel so empty and hollow and alone. But it's only a matter of time before I get tired of my whiny self and kick myself into action. For everything that ends, there is always a beginning. That is the truth of life. My head is a lot clearer now...well atleast for somethings. The murky things remain, sometimes getting murkier sometimes being stagnant. Which is worse, I still know not.
At the beginning of this year I told S that this would be a year of many major changes. In my life and the lives of those I love. It's only May and my theory stands proven. I wait to see what else this year brings. Change is not necessarily good or bad....it sometimes just is....So I raise my glass and say "Thank you for being the only constant in my life."
I shall explain to you why there are these sporadic posts. Most of the time I have nothing to write about :( I write when I need to vent, when I experience extreme emotions and sometimes when I think oh shit its been a while.Tu comprende? But since you said nice things about me, I shall be a good girl and write (try) more regularly.
So after 1 and half years in this house, it is time to bid adieu to it. I remember huffing and puffing up the stairs with 2 suitcases and a backpack. My life in 2 suitcases and a backpack. Yet as I get ready to move into my own little place, I realise I have so much stuff!! Stuff acquired over the months which have no meaning, that mean too much, stuff I cannot do without, stuff that makes me want to go "WHAT WAS I THINKING?!!!" Yet it is mine. I need a tempo to move all these things...and I realise everything I possess is truly mine. From the random gold pompoms to the fridge...I am responsible for them. And there is sense of pride somewhere. I feel like an adult now; ready to set up a home. I will no longer operate out of a room to call my own but a house. It's giving me sleepless nights and I am scared shitless too but there is a sense of thrill and excitement too.That feeling is like a pressure cooker about to start whistling. I dont have a plan, I dont know how I'll do it. All I know is that I have to and I will. Maybe I will cry myself to sleep for a month, maybe I will feel so empty and hollow and alone. But it's only a matter of time before I get tired of my whiny self and kick myself into action. For everything that ends, there is always a beginning. That is the truth of life. My head is a lot clearer now...well atleast for somethings. The murky things remain, sometimes getting murkier sometimes being stagnant. Which is worse, I still know not.
At the beginning of this year I told S that this would be a year of many major changes. In my life and the lives of those I love. It's only May and my theory stands proven. I wait to see what else this year brings. Change is not necessarily good or bad....it sometimes just is....So I raise my glass and say "Thank you for being the only constant in my life."
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Ramblings
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo (3)
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho (2)
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo (2)
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Tum hi socho zara, kyun na roke tumhe
Jaan jaati hai jab uth ke jaate ho tum (2)
Tumko apni qasam jaan-e-jaan
Baat itni meri maan lo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho (2)
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Waqt ki qaid mein zindagi hai magar (2)
Chand ghadiyan yehi hain jo aazad hain (2)
Inko khokar mere jaan-e-jaan
Umr bhar na taraste raho
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Kitna maasoom rangeen hai yeh sama
Husn aur ishq ki aaj mein raaj hai (2)
Kal ki kisko khabar jaan-e-jaan
Rok lo aaj ki raat ko
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Yunhi pehloo mein baithe raho (2)
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
Haay mar jaayenge, hum to lut jaayenge
Aisi baatein kiya na karo
Aaj jaane ki zid na karo
There's something very hauntingly beautiful about this song. Ofcourse I mean the
Farida Khanum version and NOT the Asha Bhonsle version, which is just rubbish.
Discovered a little late in my life but so glad I did. From hearing S and M singing
this for the first time to H humming this as she taps her fingers leisurely on her
keyboard to telling S not to go to just realising damn...this makes so much sense.
And now in 3 months, I'll be singing it to A...wishing I could keep her with me but
knowing that she must do what she must do.
Delhi winter is on its way out and I can almost feel the scorching heat of all that
will follow till the next winter chill. This year I will embark on something new yet
again and hope I have enough courage in me to see it through without breaking.
But then I'm on my way to being a cold heart bitch...or so I think.The last year
and half has been such a rollercoaster...those who were my own became strangers
and so many strangers have become my own. Such is the cycle of life I guess.
Hope I have become wiser.Hope I know how to protect myself without losing myself.
Everything's changing. When did we stop being kids and become adults? I still
cant pick the moment when I stopped being a kid. Well a kid for all practical
purposes atleast.That's probably what has made me a little colder. I look back
at the girl I left behind in Kolkata and wonder who she is...would she
recognise me? Would she approve of me? Would she judge me? Would she be
proud of me?
I miss some things and wish they could have been different but
know now that things are exactly the way that they perhaps should be.
I no longer hold on to them.
I'm letting you go.
I'm not holding you back.
I'm not going to die if I no longer have you.
It is best.
I will be at peace.
I promise.
I promise you.
I will miss you perhaps.
But I'm letting you go.
But for some....wild horses cannot make me wish you away. The good or the bad.
You make me. :)Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Keeping up with new year resolutions is a farce. I find it easier to say I have a to-do list. Checking off stuff on last year's list was a thrill...all done save one. Not bad for someone who is supremely lethargic. This year's list should be a little more challenging I thought...how else to push myself??? 10 days down and so far the year has been great. Reason for this post...it's on my to-do list. MUST BLOG ATLEAST ONCE A MONTH!!!! Doesn't sound like much but considering how far apart I write, maybe this way I won't forget how to.
The Delhi winter rages on yet this year I don't feel the whiplash of the biting cold breeze. Makes me wonder...does this mean that I've become accustomed to it? Have I then become a Dilliwali?? I remember last year how vehemently I said Kolkata is home and I'll never be anything but a Kolkattan but a year and 2 months down the line, it's not so bad. This is home too. I belong here too. Maximum growth happened here. In the last year I saw a sea change in my general outlook to life and myself. The loneliness has given way to comfort and belonging...and it feels right. Perhaps I'm being a little presumptuous about being in love here but as a wise person once told me...we need to live a little. Without risks and letting go, it's a stagnant place. And I refuse to be stuck in a rut. And besides I have enough cushions lying around to break my fall. Some acquired over the years, lending a soft, familiar feel to my being. Some freshly collected, firm and strong even though they're not well broken in. But cushions nonetheless.
I've stopped struggling. I don't need to. Finally. Closure.
I get a good feeling about 2012...don't usually have an opinion of a year so early on...but this time, I feel it in my bones. This shall be a year of laughter, joy, love and life like I have not known it before. It seems very cliched and trite but such is life :P
I read a Browning poem this morning, something I had read long ago...somehow it made more sense now.
The Delhi winter rages on yet this year I don't feel the whiplash of the biting cold breeze. Makes me wonder...does this mean that I've become accustomed to it? Have I then become a Dilliwali?? I remember last year how vehemently I said Kolkata is home and I'll never be anything but a Kolkattan but a year and 2 months down the line, it's not so bad. This is home too. I belong here too. Maximum growth happened here. In the last year I saw a sea change in my general outlook to life and myself. The loneliness has given way to comfort and belonging...and it feels right. Perhaps I'm being a little presumptuous about being in love here but as a wise person once told me...we need to live a little. Without risks and letting go, it's a stagnant place. And I refuse to be stuck in a rut. And besides I have enough cushions lying around to break my fall. Some acquired over the years, lending a soft, familiar feel to my being. Some freshly collected, firm and strong even though they're not well broken in. But cushions nonetheless.
I've stopped struggling. I don't need to. Finally. Closure.
I get a good feeling about 2012...don't usually have an opinion of a year so early on...but this time, I feel it in my bones. This shall be a year of laughter, joy, love and life like I have not known it before. It seems very cliched and trite but such is life :P
I read a Browning poem this morning, something I had read long ago...somehow it made more sense now.
Round the cape of a sudden came the sea,
And the sun looked over the mountain's rim:
And straight was a path of gold for him,
And the need of a world of men for me.
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