From the ashes

It has been two months now that I have left Delhi behind. It has been a long time. During this time I have realised that I am actually capable of missing home. I really like the little overcrowded house we have. The little things that we, Bengalis tend to accumulate that we never throw away… my grandma perennially shouting on grandpa cause he cant hear anything… the 'perceived' lack of privacy or freedom.

I miss my family, my home, my colony, my friends. My mother … in so many ways. Running after me to make me partake my meals, organise my bookshelf, take a bath even perhaps. Hostel life is fun. We get to do everything on our own. And I realised that was it, everything on our own. There is no one you can ask for a glass of water. And furthermore, you have to go down a flight of stairs to get it instead. There is no one to fall back upon. Even with all the fun you have with your wingies, you are always essentially alone. Alone to adjust, to carve a niche for yourself, to realise what you want, to get that which you wanted, to make friends, to love the people around and to become befriended. Its all about the people. Work too involves them. And your equation always has to be the best with them. There is no other way.

Well, so much for the freedom we get here. My room is always in a perennial mess. I get to stay messed up too. All night and day, if I want. I can talk on phone for long. I have my own laptop now. And there is fun unlimited. But at the same time I would have liked someone bossing me around. I guess, 19 years of my life instantly makes me miss that. :P Still, it is almost as if I have two compartments to my life. My home life and my college life.

Best of both worlds isn’t possible. You live in one only at a point of time. You see the good and bad of each one. And you best all the trials.

The last time I went home for the weekend, I just slept off the days and the nights. Like all the other times, I went home. I conclude I must miss my bed or that I miss sleep itself. The over-enthusiastic part of me has jumped into tons of college activities and now, I hardly have time to sleep. Oh well….

Then home food. Bengali cuisine. Mom cooking…

I miss everything. Chicken, kheer, chutney, fish too... Food is always a downer in hostel life. I guess, everyone who ever lived in a hostel would have complained about that!!!

But, in the ups and downs, there are a lot of ups. I have found great friends here too. I keep wanting to share my life with my other friends in Delhi too. Atleast my friend circle is enlarging. I am happy that it can never shrink. My group here, which came into existence on the second day of my college life, is awesome fun. We have the best times ever. We watch each others backs. We pull pranks, we dance, we sing, we do stupidest of things and talk utter crap. And we enjoy. Ohh… yess. We sometimes study together too.

I have found many new avenues here in terms of work. I am finally learning photography. I am handling dslrs and learning about them. I am learning many new techniques and from the experience of my seniors. I am practising something that was very close to my heart and still is… photography. I also joined the debating society. And I am learning. Learning loads. I just need to figure out my time management. I really need to take care of my academics now. Time management!!!

And finally, the last cobwebs of the dingy past have been wiped away. I am with this ‘nice guy’ here. I am learning again to trust, to love, to heal and to forget.

All the pieces are littered on the floor. They make sense at times and at times they don’t. I am really trying to figure out whatever is it that they mean or should mean. They will fall into place I am sure. And soon. But all along, though I am trying to go with the flow, it always isn’t the best thing to do. And in between these phases, the figuring out and the correcting is taking place.

I am learning to surf as if, between waves and on them.

With this, I come out of the sabbatical from my blog. It has been long that I kept writing away from me. And its time I returned.

The Strife

Have you ever felt torn between duty that calls to you and what you would really like to do? Often whichever path you take is always at the cost of the other…

Closest and perhaps the things that have mattered to me most always have been surrounded by this dilemma. And recent events have again brought me face to facewith another battle, another strife. For acceptance.

To make people about whom you care understand that this is important to you. Fighting for support? No, that can’t be done. Support can’t be won. May be a grudging acceptance. But at this stage for me that would suffice.

Following one’s passion doesn’t mean that you forget responsibilities. Just because you might be absent minded doesn’t mean that you are callous. Everyone has their own space to develop, to work, to recreate and to rejuvenate. I have been incessantly trying to make some people understand that by saying all this, I don’t disrespect them. But rather ask them to recognize me as a cognitive individual. But then convincing the dearest is the hardest. Those who believe they have your best interests in their hearts and mind. Those, for whom we are still kids.

How hard is it to cross the line of a teenager to an adult? I have known being eighteen doesn’t make you an adult all of a sudden. Yes, I do believe I am not a kid exactly. Neither am I an adult. I don’t have the experience they have. But I still am trying to weave my own path. Trying something new is tough but trust me a bit. Allow me to make my mistakes. I am not stupid, not deluded. I am ready to take the risk. Let me learn.

I require the freedom to breathe; let my imagination fly, binge in highs which I am sure to get when I touch my passions…. When I work with things closest to my heart and soul.

I haven’t forgotten my responsibilities and the practicalities of life really. If even I be free for a moment, allow me to return to my passion. Are you scared that the lure of such pure pleasure would mislead me… if you stop me on that ground, I shall forever be compromising on my happiness.


I have seen people compromising for what they call the greater good. And I also have done that only for the past 15 years of my cognitive life now. And in both cases I have seen it just breeds frustration and anger. At yourself and at the misunderstandings… And then, the greater good doesn’t exist because such negativity lays its foundation. To what purpose then all the sacrifice?

I am not undermining any value system. But people shouldn’t suppress their dreams. No one can really let go of them and they keep returning over and over again. Each time you push them away trying to rationally behave, you just end up a bit more frustrated. A bit more hurt…

I have to yet carve my path. But I am working on that. Trying to break orthodox ideas, trying to realize what I feel. Trying to do many things. I know the risk is high but a will and a determination to succeed proceeds when you have such longing coursing through you.

When everything else blurs and just your goal, your objective shines in your eyes. It’s almost like the carrot on the stick. But this time it’s achievable.

Yes, strife and battle will exist. I shall have to keep on trying. It’s the only thing I can do.