Leaf in spring

Spring always does come

Doesn’t it?

The trees are covered and green

The soil is fresh with new growth

All that was dead has passed away

And lies no more on the ground

To trod on and forget…

But irony of ironies

Is that leaf which was dead

Maybe found not its last journey

And is now one with the soil

With love they put forward new shoots

Which I know, we shall remember

Adding to our lives silently.

I oft do wonder, if the leaf parted from its tree

Did it hurt to forget years or maybe days together,

Or was it a sweet end?

Did you get closure ?

Or leaf, did you look for permission to set forth again…?

Tell me what should I look for now.

May be you know, I am reading it all wrong

For in my doubt, the truth still I know not.

Maybe its your brothers leaf, you would miss

When you finally do yield to your love for soil.

And it’s a new world and a happy one

Cause you do meet them again

And all your friends,

Someday on the ground again

Amongst the things that grow.

Spring to us so merry

Festive and bright

Makes me almost forget the wind

That blows on the old tree.

I am restless. If yet spring hasn’t come

Don’t make them memories be shaken…

But spring does come

Always… Doesn’t it?

The branches dance on the rising wind

The old bark can creak

But they all laugh and cry

As the time flies by, root to leaf…

Maybe its not about the time

Maybe the anger wasn’t at the wind

And the branches weren’t jealous of the soil.

I don’t understand all of it yet.

What does the leaf, of the spring try to achieve?

What does the flirtatious wind want?

Or the tree desire.

I am too young still maybe to decipher

And would be young in this sense forever perhaps.

Young shoots still would grow

With hope of some light and rain and love,

And amidst all this

Only this I understand.

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.

Looking Back

It has been a long time since I remembered and that gives me all the satisfaction I need. Time is a healer is something I can believe now. My own conviction that I have forgotten is confirmed by the fact that memories I clung to once, have flowed out of my hand like grains of sand. Its harder to remember even if I try to. The wistfulness is there sometimes of the lost glow of warmth but that is all. The pain doesn’t bother to come back though I can never forget that.

The hole I had once in my heart has almost healed. The hole which was physically real. Which pained physically and constricted breathing. Which can make you shake and shudder while you just wait for it to pass. One awful moment after other as you are helpless. Bittersweet as pain is the only reminder that it happened and existed. And all was not hallucination or imagination.

But why do I write this if it doesn’t matter at all? Because two things happened. First, I managed to forget his birthday. Yes, I didn’t remember it at all. And when I finally realized this it was ironically on mine. The point is, surprisingly I was very happy about it. No trace of wistfulness even. Almost free that I did not need to bow down to the obligations of ‘loyally’ remembering such things.

I was then with two of my friends who had helped me a lot to get over this pan. And to share this with them immediately added to the sense of my triumph. One little battle won.

Then the second reason. Just because my hole doesn’t bother me now, I can never be sure if it has healed. Never. Cause loneliness can always return. And I can’t really ever forget the pain I had gone through. Recently I am reading this book which described the pain so close to my reality that it brought a flood of memories. Of the pain and loneliness and not of him. The warmth is still missing in a way. But it doesn’t affect me that much. I am hopeful and hence, I wait.

So, always like an irony, my life gives me two stocks of view. He is gone. But reminders remain. Is that normal? I am not hurting anymore. Is this completely true? Am I whole again? I have no option but again to wait patiently for time to deliver my answers. That is all I can do.

Ps... I Love You

I saw a most moving movie today. Ps. I love you. And it was great.

I had been in a very foul mood all day long. Cursing everyone including me in my mind. May be even the bedpost and edging suicidal. It was pretty awful. I am not a very emotive person but I’m very sensitive. That makes it worse cause things just lay down there for ages. And today things got a way out of hand… and just keeping my eyes open caused tears to start welling.

But then my supreme ego would not allow me to cry, would it? So feigned being asleep so that my eyes remain closed. So you know pretty lame but well…

So then, to add to the over senti mood already I decided to watch this movie. I had heard my friends say that it was great and I was dying to watch it. I had also read the book. I didn’t find it that awesome; it made a good read though.

I worked on procuring the movie from my friends and then sat down to watch it. It was a beautiful experience. All the little gestures of affection, all the purity and longing captured on film. The despair and the pain not overdone… beautiful! And that’s I guess the only word I can procure to describe it.

I can’t help comparing it to the book. It was way better. It was so alive and full of hope. I didn’t find a fragment of negativity. And I feel somehow stronger to deal with many of my issues as well. Compared to the movie, the book had so much of the grey areas. Still, both were emotionally satisfying.

I guess I am so overwhelmed that though I have to study for some major entrance examinations, I couldn’t resist the urge to blog. I had shut down my pc…came back and started writing again. This feeling of being overwhelmed could explain the crudeness of my speech here. It’s a long time I have been so satisfied. Almost happy, I don’t know why. It’s been a long time since I was so positively overwhelmed.

You know, its tough to tell people about your secrets. They might be unpleasant and people could judge you. We don’t want to b outcasts. Or maybe just don’t want people to disagree with what we believe s true. So we keep secrets. I am sure there are many more specifics of keeping secrets. It adds spice to our life, for example. Infact may be what I am trying to divulge on this page isn’t a secret. But an emotion which was once close to my heart and made my world go around.

And though I am pretty young to say so, I can say I had been in love. The serious love. The first serious love of my life, which I always knew wasn’t going to stay forever. But still in which I put a lot of my effort and maybe a whole lot more me. The purity in which I reveled for quite a long time. I guess it was three years. And it was beautiful. The feeling that it was indeed a race against time and one day it had to end was obviously there. But then, that didn’t stop me from enjoying the “now” then.

It’s a wonderful feeling to give. Its sometimes even better than to share. As you don’t really expect anything back in return. I don’t know if it is a self defense mechanism against hurt. But I found it to be true. Giving is better than sharing.

And that’s what I did. Give. Love. It was impractical to fall in love with such a person may be. I didn’t even love him or ever think I could at the start. I learnt to do it. It was still very rewarding, now as I look back. To spend time to think how you could do small things put a smile on his face. When a little word of praise can make your whole day. Even a little fight can make the world go round. A small gesture to show you, that yes, he is there by your side. Holding hands… intimacy transcending borders as one knows until one falls in love.

I had to prove myself over and over again. I constantly had to analyze what I was doing. I was a kid. And the enormity of what I was feeling scared me. My practical side and I guess reality had always made it clear that this wasn’t there to stay. It didn’t stop me from making one of the most major unconscious decisions on my life. To be with him then. To live in what started out as a fair tale. At least it started like that.

Three years of some of the most selfless things I have done. I guess being in love make you a better person. Makes you see so much positivity around you. Makes you so much more conscious. You feel beautiful and that’s the only way to describe it.

As I’m writing this there’s a faint smile tugging at my lips. I have come a long way and it has been three years since. I had to make that final conscious decision and push him away. I guess it was the best for both of us. Anything else would have been a disaster.

It was tough. Tough to give up. To tear out a part of your heart and to pretend as it was never yours and you mistook it to be something else. But fairytales end. And people wake up from their dreams. I woke up too… guess what, when I woke up it was not a fairytale. The reality had changed. It had become a nightmare. And it continued right afterwards.

I severed every contact between us. Even tried to make him hate me. Realization dawned slowly… and I found out I should have enough reason to hate him too. He had manipulated me in twisted ways. Evil ways. But I found no strength to do that. Could not bear that thought even.

I spent two years trying to fall out of love. I thought about him every day though. I tried to deny myself the only thing I had ever wanted. And all that time he was right in front of him. I guess I had driven him away to some extent when one day he just walked past me as if I was invisible.

But I guess, didn’t I want that? Then why did it have to hurt so… 2 years. I lived hating myself each day… pining. Its physical this hurt. Like someone put iron bands around your chest as you slowly suffocate.

I relived each moment, each day. I just could not get myself out or bear to think about forgetting him. To think about a life without him.

My friends, god bless them, helped me a lot. Bit by bit, I have learnt to stand up again. I think I have succeeded and the universe is back in order again. Seeing him or his memories doesn’t affect me like ghosts anymore. I have learnt to accept my past and move ahead.

I am almost happy, I was almost happy. This past one year, I have taken time to recuperate. And I am proud of myself.

It’s a powerful and lethal drug…Love.

I wish everyone should experience as powerful emotions that I felt once, in their lifetime. Just maybe the endings can be better. :D

So when I saw this movie today… I couldn’t miss the optimism they portrayed with which Holly came back around. And instead of gong sentimental and sad, I rather feel good at what I have been able to achieve for the past one year. It’s tough to lose some one you care for that much… and try to live your life again with your maximum potential. To fall out of love.

Yes, it’s good to be back on your feet. Perhaps, even waiting for the next best thing!