The fact that I wanted to get out of Calcutta for undergrad-college had probably more to do with the fear of getting too attached to Calcutta than with my being ambitious. Surely, it was a lot of the latter, but in all probability, now that I think of it, a bit more of the former.
And I can see now that it will happen again. After two years, when I shall leave this city for good, I shall have to suffer another heartbreak, another 2007-esque disaster.
I have cleaved in too well in this city probably. Deny korar cheshta kora ta aar ucheet noy...
May 28, 2010
May 18, 2010
A Separate Peace
Cradled between the cyan-tinged darkness
That loomed ahead of her,
And the tender moonshine, pristine,
That flowed down the contours of her shoulders
Was her self,
Lifeless.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
She welcomed him into her home.
She brought him in, herself.
A little kiss on his nose,
And he was hers.
His fingers did he wrap
Around her hand,
She felt complete.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wrapped around each other
In bed, together
He was all she ever had.
In his eyes, she saw her hopes,
Reinvigorated,
Revived, restored.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Strange things happen. Even here they did.
He disappeared.
From her comforting embrace,
From her re-assuring smile,
From her lingering protectiveness,
He disappeared.
She searched for days. She searched at nights.
In gardens, on the streets,
In those little clandestine caves,
On the beaches, in the woods,
Her search left no stones unturned
No doors un-knocked
No pebbles un-trampled on.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her tears had run dry, her throat was very hoarse.
Her faculties could not conjure
A feed-back apt enough, when they,
Removed the veil
That covered his face.
It wasn’t quite him anymore.
Only a lot of blood, and an eye.
Clawing through the endless emptiness in her mind,
She could grasp one realization.
He was never going to come home to her
Ever again.
The hopes in her eyes, died away
Or you may say, dried off,
Vaporized into another existence.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cradled between the cyan-tinged darkness
That loomed ahead of her,
And the tender moonshine, pristine,
That flowed down the contours of her shoulders
Was her self….
Lifeless,
If they saw from this world
That had taken him away from him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the other world,
The moonshine brought into sight a path.
If they look closely enough,
They shall see her,
Walking away, his hands in hers,
Walking into a separate peace
Walking towards a new truth…
Mother and child,
Walking together to be
Eternally united.
[Inspired heavily from the movies 'El Orfanato', 'Paris Je t'aime(Place des Victoires)' and 'Changeling']
Note: The title is borrowed from John Knowles' novel of the same name, but this textual piece has hardly anything to do with the novel.
That loomed ahead of her,
And the tender moonshine, pristine,
That flowed down the contours of her shoulders
Was her self,
Lifeless.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
She welcomed him into her home.
She brought him in, herself.
A little kiss on his nose,
And he was hers.
His fingers did he wrap
Around her hand,
She felt complete.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wrapped around each other
In bed, together
He was all she ever had.
In his eyes, she saw her hopes,
Reinvigorated,
Revived, restored.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Strange things happen. Even here they did.
He disappeared.
From her comforting embrace,
From her re-assuring smile,
From her lingering protectiveness,
He disappeared.
She searched for days. She searched at nights.
In gardens, on the streets,
In those little clandestine caves,
On the beaches, in the woods,
Her search left no stones unturned
No doors un-knocked
No pebbles un-trampled on.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her tears had run dry, her throat was very hoarse.
Her faculties could not conjure
A feed-back apt enough, when they,
Removed the veil
That covered his face.
It wasn’t quite him anymore.
Only a lot of blood, and an eye.
Clawing through the endless emptiness in her mind,
She could grasp one realization.
He was never going to come home to her
Ever again.
The hopes in her eyes, died away
Or you may say, dried off,
Vaporized into another existence.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cradled between the cyan-tinged darkness
That loomed ahead of her,
And the tender moonshine, pristine,
That flowed down the contours of her shoulders
Was her self….
Lifeless,
If they saw from this world
That had taken him away from him.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the other world,
The moonshine brought into sight a path.
If they look closely enough,
They shall see her,
Walking away, his hands in hers,
Walking into a separate peace
Walking towards a new truth…
Mother and child,
Walking together to be
Eternally united.
[Inspired heavily from the movies 'El Orfanato', 'Paris Je t'aime(Place des Victoires)' and 'Changeling']
Note: The title is borrowed from John Knowles' novel of the same name, but this textual piece has hardly anything to do with the novel.
May 8, 2010
Conform.I did too.
Whenever I look out of my bedroom window nowadays in the evenings, I see three guys hanging out lazily and chatting late into the night on the rooftop of the building being constructed on the plot next to our apartment block. This, together with the fact that it has rained every-evening this week(thus making it one of my coolest Mays so far),brings to absolute recall the characters- Joey, Chandler or Ross from Friends/ Barney, Ted and Marshall from ‘How I Met Your Mother’.
Today, in AC’s statistics classes, when as is usual, I couldn’t prompt him in the scribbling down of derivations (because, well, I haven’t studied one bit), he looked at me, and then looked at the remaining students and said “O porey na, kintu taao okey kichhu bolte parina. Raag hoy, kintu dekhate parina. Ki mishti heshe dey dekho... theek jeno beral chhana..” (He will never study, but I can’t get myself to rebuke him. I get angry, but can’t express my anger… Look at that sweet smile on his face. Just like a tiny kitten). The class around me was in splits.
These days I’ve been remembering Akash and Sia a lot. I think they want to haunt me to the other side as well. Suhrid has been very difficult after Sia left us all,he hasn’t yet come down from Dubai. Sameera and Kaaya still weep inconsolably at times. Over the phone though. That is a life I have left so far behind, so, so far behind. The ghosts still trouble me at times. Traffic jams and crowded streets freak me out still. I have lied a lot here and there. Lines have faded between the two compositions but I would go on to the other side gladly if only they would take me with them.
They are none of them on Facebook which makes life more difficult. Of course, I conformed. Probably this city made me conform. All of them however have been very kind to me. We wrote Kreanjalie off within days of her departure, but they have still patiently clung on to me. Probably because the vaporisation of two of us has made us learn to value each other more.
I think I’m just known to be a very uni-dimensional person now because of the things I do. I think I’m growing up and conforming into an ideal existence where I can not breathe.
One thing about me that has still not changed is how people still intimidate me. It’s odd though, how I, despite never having suffered from inferiority complexes of any sort, find people so intimidating. I need to learn to speak out. And, yes, ‘conform’, in the process.
I’ve conformed so much. And despite all these, despite having lost my identity, I’m not unhappy. I parade around the city happily, with my newest closest friends for company, and well, I don’t miss the old times any more.
Well, I think this one should end here coz it is all a lot of pointless blabbing.
Today, in AC’s statistics classes, when as is usual, I couldn’t prompt him in the scribbling down of derivations (because, well, I haven’t studied one bit), he looked at me, and then looked at the remaining students and said “O porey na, kintu taao okey kichhu bolte parina. Raag hoy, kintu dekhate parina. Ki mishti heshe dey dekho... theek jeno beral chhana..” (He will never study, but I can’t get myself to rebuke him. I get angry, but can’t express my anger… Look at that sweet smile on his face. Just like a tiny kitten). The class around me was in splits.
These days I’ve been remembering Akash and Sia a lot. I think they want to haunt me to the other side as well. Suhrid has been very difficult after Sia left us all,he hasn’t yet come down from Dubai. Sameera and Kaaya still weep inconsolably at times. Over the phone though. That is a life I have left so far behind, so, so far behind. The ghosts still trouble me at times. Traffic jams and crowded streets freak me out still. I have lied a lot here and there. Lines have faded between the two compositions but I would go on to the other side gladly if only they would take me with them.
They are none of them on Facebook which makes life more difficult. Of course, I conformed. Probably this city made me conform. All of them however have been very kind to me. We wrote Kreanjalie off within days of her departure, but they have still patiently clung on to me. Probably because the vaporisation of two of us has made us learn to value each other more.
I think I’m just known to be a very uni-dimensional person now because of the things I do. I think I’m growing up and conforming into an ideal existence where I can not breathe.
One thing about me that has still not changed is how people still intimidate me. It’s odd though, how I, despite never having suffered from inferiority complexes of any sort, find people so intimidating. I need to learn to speak out. And, yes, ‘conform’, in the process.
I’ve conformed so much. And despite all these, despite having lost my identity, I’m not unhappy. I parade around the city happily, with my newest closest friends for company, and well, I don’t miss the old times any more.
Well, I think this one should end here coz it is all a lot of pointless blabbing.
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