Dusk of 2009

Somewhere inside the chest it strikes, yet another year down. An eventfully eventless year. For everyone who look forward to new dawns on new years, all the best wishes. For the rest like me who find a new dawn every morning, its just another start, with new targets...

I'm lost ...

I’m lost.

I don’t feel like talking to people anymore. Or rather I run out of topics. Maybe people also don’t find much to talk with me.

I’ve become boring.

I’ve become unidimensional, unidirectional. I don’t believe one should do what everyone else is doing without thinking. I am not doing it either. But I’m running out of options for alternatives and my independent thoughts.

I have my focus, yet I am losing focus. And strangely it’s the lack of an objective where to focus on.

I am not being able to follow my head or my heart. I’m hanging somewhere in between.

I know what I can do. I know I don’t even have an inkling what all I can achieve. Yet, I’m strangely shunning it. I’m shunning myself from the world.

I have torn myself into a façade, yet sometimes I let my ‘self’ be looked through the looking glass by others.

I’m not in a negative mood. Trust me when I say that. I’m positive.

I’m too engrossed in thinking all I can’t do at times that I forget I can also do something.

It’s not an adolescent rant. I’m past it. It’s more of an adult child speaking where he’s suddenly lost himself, where he suddenly finds confusion and then sees the light. I’ve tried abeyance, it doesn’t help.

I know who I am. Few people do. My fault is I don’t know when to come out of the shell.

My life has been a journey of extremes. I’ve tried moderation. It doesn’t suit me.

Someone had said when I set out to do something, I do it with so much passion and fervour that I leave others far behind and fail to bring the rest to the same platform, and so the real objective fails. Yes, maybe you were right.

I’m not a loner. Yet I feel lonely most of the times now. And sometimes solitude is bliss.

I got dreams of my own which I share with none. I’d love to fulfil them. But then they require lots of heart. I haven’t been up to doing by the call of the heart in recent times.

I feel I’m a letdown at times, both to myself and others.

I used to be a joker at times. Even now I am one, albeit in a different way. I’d love to be one for life.

And yet I feel I’m lost …

A passing thought

Once bitten twice shy.

Twice bitten thrice retaliate.

Thrice bitten, fourth time - Shun It !

Rejection

“I’m not the one?”

“No, you’re not. “

“I tried.”

“I know.”

“I left nothing to chance.”

“ ’course you didn’t.”

“Then why not me?”

“Why would it be you?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Did I fail?”

“No.”

“Then I did succeed, didn’t I?”

“No.”

“But, why?”

“Nothing.”

“Look at me.”

“I have leukemia.”

A note

Exams have an unique way of stirring your writing buds. I have been writing, thought I haven't been posting. I have been off the blogger circuit for quite a while now. Time is at a premium. Never thought I’d be led into attending so many classes in a single semester! And suddenly exams come staring. Somethings have changed within me. It’s not too recent. Been since the dehra trip and IIP experience. I finally believe I’ve got it in me to last the grind. I won’t be crushed.

I’ll be back soon. Till then Matchbox20 and Dolores O’Riordan rule the roost.

Ciao

Bits & Lots Of A Birthday-Eve

A bit of college

A bit of south city

A bit of beer

A bit of rain

A bit of pandal hopping

A bit of sumptuous food

A bit of tram

A bit of waiting eagerly for a cab

A bit of whiskey

A lot of fags

A lot of adda

A lot of Maddox

A lot of old friends

A lot of reunion

A lot of adda again

A lot of crowd

A bit of metro

A bit of a slightly embarrassed me being wished happy birthday in the underground

A lot of jostling

A lot of walking

A lot of masti

A day well spent

( Love is ) ...

Feeling blue

Too good to be true

Beautiful

Harsh

Eager

Hopeful

Yet, heart wrenching

Music

Noise

Stress

Pain

Everything when you can’t think of the gain

Dramatic

More of a melodrama

Faked by many

Yet, more real than reality.

Royal

Driving a Porsche on the highway

Steering an yacht on the waves

Flying seamless

Gliding translucence

A box of chocolates

Beef steak with chilled beer

Whiskey with tandoori kebabs

Chocolate mousse

Sleeping on the terrace on a starlit night

Watching the faraway twinkling lights of a hill-station

Chatting your heart out

Fagging till eternity

Walking on the railing holding the other's hand

A cup of Darjeeling tea

Cappuccino

Walking hand in hand

Sleeping in each other’s arms

Smiling when you’re supposed to apologize

Laughing when you’re asked to cry

Quarreling when you’re about to appease

Wearing that shirt everyday

Spraying that perfume

Being her rockstar

Being his Dutch dame

Red

Black

Something that you can’t crack

Her picture on your desktop

His mail starred in g-mail

Indispensable

Unrecognizable

Untouchable

Perfectly imperfect

Passionate

Impressively ignorant

Returning to roots

Giving in to insane demands

Being dil-logical

Being a loser for the world,

Being a winner for the One

The unfeeling kiss

The devil smirking within you

Trespassing

Tragic shadows of spring

That perched photograph

That souvenir of immoral love

Unfaithfulness

Faithfully due to yourself

The tranquil ambiance of the rainbow

Sacrifice of your dreams

Yielding while you’re strongest

Standing up at your weakest

Floating on heaven while it’s still there

Loving while it’s not …

A passing thought

It's lonely at the top and the bottom ... And whoever cares about the in-betweens ...

Ripples on the water

It’s weird sometimes when you feel you have so much to do, and yet you do nothing, you just seem to have an inclination to go back in time. Not relive, but just looking back at who I was and how I was and how everything was. It’s probably the best form of educating you about yourself. The way you’ve grown to be somebody who you are now.

Today as I stand on the threshold of yet another big step towards my graduation, I realize there are so many things I could have done different, not necessarily better. The admission test where I had to write “Twinkle Twinkle little star” and a teacher helped me then. The elation when I was first appointed monitor in the first standard and then daily lock and key games subsequently. The absolute fun masti innocent home to school and back van journeys. Admission in a new school mid-term in the third standard and getting slowly used to Kolkata life. I remember the fun filled fights of fourth and fifth standard. Early exposure to words of love and sex in sixth and seventh standards used to make us friends so hush hush and keen alerted minds. Eighth and ninth standards were spent on getting exposed to national quizzing scenarios and first crushes and basically, ‘Growing Up’. Tenth standard was more of a fun filled journey. Barring the last day, one which is forever etched in memory, when so many friends were scattered from the everyday meet forever. Tears and hugs were never lacking. Eleventh standard was when I had the then biggest fall in my life. Betrayal from a best friend to losing friends to being basically lonely and realizing this whole thing the real hard way, indeed broke and wore me down. The silver lining was I had some new friends who really have stood by me ever since. Twelfth was when I once again stood up, trying to relive the last days in school. Some friends came back realizing their folly, all in all it was a embalming of sorts. The last day of school was essentially different from the one two years back. Before it even hit that there would be no waking up at 6.30 in the morning and running to catch the bus at 7.15 and rushing to manage the traffic as a badge holder and then managing the students as captain during the prayer and then attending classes, it was over. The last day during the investiture ceremony when I broke down on stage and the photo sessions to filling juniors’ slam books to getting 7 mindboggling proposals and then all of us classmates crying together with doors closed to finally dancing and singing it out that there would be no final farewells and hugs and kisses galore. And then not faring well in the boards and entrances to taking the real tough decision to reappear for entrances a second time against everyone’s wishes and then spending a fun filled year at Asutosh, making so many friends. That was when I realized I was and could be a really good person. And then getting into my first and only relationship till date, which was blissfully beautiful. And then getting admitted to JU. Alas good things don’t last! Everything going haywire. Losing the plot and break up taking its toll on me. Probably the lowest ebb in my life. A point of time when I really contemplated and attempted suicide and failed. Nothing went right. The only thing I had left was the faith on me. Nothing else existed. Except for a few friends who made it a point to bring me back.

Today, I’ll say I am much better. It could have been worse, maybe it could’ve better too. But with age comes a certain wisdom of knowing that experiences make and mould you into a better person. I have seen low points, lower than some, and better than some. But I’ve never regretted any bit of this. I have my detractors. I have my critics. My aim is not to silence them. ‘coz I also know I don’t need to do that and prove them wrong. I know myself best. And when the need arises, as and when, I’ll prove to myself. No one else. I have never withered in the face of a challenge. And I never will. Success does not always come to the one with the most victories. Happiness does not always come to the most successful. And it’s all in the mind. If you believe, anything is possible. When you’ve scraped the bottom of the ocean bed and come back to the top battered but alive you know you can. I can.

In his blood

The lights were off. It was quiet around, as usually it was during that time of the night. The fan, with its old regulator in place, growled on. A mosquito net, sometimes flowing in the ensuing blow, more of filtered the cool air. He was sweating profusely. His eyes were red. Only the night prowler could have distinguished. The FM was playing on his headphones. It felt like torrential party rallies on loud-speakers. They disturbed the setting. He lay still. One by one, hot drops wetted the pillow. Moment by moment, he grew further detached from himself. Instant by instant, he grew calmer.

Maybe, now, he’d have cooled down. He wiped his cheek and then his eyes. He touched his pillow, realizing his weakness. He should have held himself. He thought again, logically and practically. Yes, that was the term she had used, when all the time, it was him who had tried to make her think that way. He realizes every dog has its day. Strengths have an amazing ability to become a weakness at a critical point. He was the epitome of calm, the idea of ubercool for everybody. He had now failed them. He had failed himself.

Dragging himself he washed himself in the washroom. Puffy eyes couldn’t be transformed in a jiffy. He turned off the lights. It was fruitfully dark again. He felt a sigh of relief. He was away from prying eyes. Dutifully, he scratched around before he found his moneybag stacked away in the drawer. Without a hesitation, he took out the parched paper covering something inside.

There was a slicing sound. Maybe a slicing screech would have described it more aptly. Suddenly he felt calm. His wrists felt cool. It was pleasant to find viscous flow struggling through, just like him. Struggle was written in his blood. Steadily he closed his eyes. He hoped once, someone would come and bring him back from that terrible nightmare. He again hoped, this time, that he was never disturbed. And all along he fell into a soothing sleep, lips curled into a penchant smile.