A short story..

Merry Christmas! Its been a very long time since I last posted something... but here is something that I wrote a while back...and there is a reason why I am posting this here, today..

" As I entered the classroom, I was filled with a kind of fear. Once again they had shuffled us around. I needed to find my footholds again. Not easy, considering the fact that I was in Class 10, and this was merely my second year in the school. I looked around, to see who looked the most amiable. My eyes lighted on someone. I don't know why, but I felt an immediate connection somewhere. Rakesh

We went onto become best friends. Rakesh had an extremely troubled home. His father was abusive, his mother constantly dazed, and he in a relationship, which seemed to be heading somewhere, but at that point of time, it was impossible to point out where. His girlfriend looked at him as the only outlet she had.

Gradually the years went by. It was time for us to finish with our schools. It was the day of the results. Rakesh and I went together to check our marks. He told me to check them for him- I was his lucky charm. Somewhere within me, I felt warm. I felt as if he had found the affection he needed from his home in me. I felt happy. I announced his scores. Not brilliant, but pretty good. I was extremely happy for him. He hugged me tightly. It felt wonderful to know that I had such a friend.

Rakesh's girlfriend, Sheena went off to Pune for further studies. They were still together, with Rakesh hoping they would even get married in the future. Rakesh decided to visit Sheena- at the same time, jeopardising his chance of getting into a fantastic college. They ate together, they slept together, they fought, they made up- everything that a normal relationship was built on. Rakesh came back- told me about all their petty arguments, and how much he missed her, and her little quirks which he loved.

One day, after his return, I emailed Sheena. Somehow I had sensed that things were just not right somewhere. I wrote to her, telling her how tough things had been for Rakesh over here, and how emotionally overwrought he had been. She wrote back, telling me that it was not working out, and that she planned to dump him on her next visit back home. She also told me not to tell him about this email.

I was shocked, to say the very least. I decided that I would do everything in my power to prepare Rakesh for the inevitable, and then show him the email. I had every confidence that this delay would be well-taken by him. Little did I know of what was to come.

I started telling him things which would, in my eyes, prepare him for the worst. I thought I had prepared him enough- then I told him about the email. He was taken back- to the extent that he went absolutely silent.

For a few nights after that, Rakesh came across to my home. In the night he would lie next to me and cry. I would hold him and comfort him, but to no avail. He became very withdrawn.

When she came down for her holidays, she called Rakesh over to her place for lunch- and broke the news. When he took it pretty decently she suspected that I had already told him about it. He denied any such thing. Inwardly, his worst nightmare was unfolding in front of his eyes. He was never the same again.

Gradually, time healed a few of Rakesh's wounds. He started going around with someone else- someone who perhaps was not the best news for him. We, too, went through a low, which was reconciled- in a way that I never thought would ever lead to anything ever coming between us again. Strange how we infer on such situations, when it is actually way beyond our control.

Yet, months later... in fact, years later... he decided to hold the suppression against me. I remember that night vividly, yet at the same time, I still can't fathom what triggered it off. Rakesh's behaviour had changed in a way- he had become more abrupt and edgy over the past month or so. I overlooked it, thinking it had everything to do with what was going on in his love life.

It was during the Durga Pujas. There were other friends around. All I remember are a lot of words being flung about, and I not being able to believe what it triggered off. Over the next few days, our common friends started taking sides, and I felt a void- the belittling of my love for him, the thrashing of my trust in him. I could not believe that this was the same person for whom I would have gladly given up my happiness to ensure his.

Its been around four years since that fateful day. Today, whenever we cross each other's paths, we look through each other, so much so that not even a cursory glance is exchanged. In spite of it, I still search within me for answers to the many questions that his sight triggers off within me. So much for the best friend I could have ever had. SO much for the affection I harboured within me for him, and will do forever."

Today, Rakesh waved at me.. a short, hesitant wave.... in the crowds at St. Paul's Cathedral. I gave a short wave back... without a smile...somehow, I felt so sad within, that I think it showed on my face. Then again, I remembered I need to be in the present, and that is when happiness flooded me. For the friends I was with, and I am with.

Hello all!

Well, time to update my audience about what's been going on in my life!

Over the last few months, my ties with a NGO called SAATHII Kolkata have grown in leaps and bounds. Currently I am on their Legal Aid Unit, as well as on their legal Referral Panel. The kind of work they do is the kind of work I always thought I would be good at, except that I never thought it would be so extremely draining, emotionally speaking. Dealing with HIV victims' past trauma can often become the subject of your larger nightmares. Sometimes you feel as if you cannot do anything for them- and that is the worst thing ever! Yesterday was one of those days- when I could not separate my emotions from their problems- to the extent that I went off on one of my walks. Even that did not help me calm down- but what did help was talking to Mantosh. Thank God!

On that note, an interesting development happened on Mantosh's end... which leads me to write on this. When people meet online, and fall in love with each other online, without meeting each other in person, does that mean that the relationship shall actually become reality beyond virtual reality? When you exchange promises of love and rejoicing, of sorrow and confessions, if its done over the net, does it actually mean that it shall extend into real life? What if the people meet, and find they can't stand each other for their quirks? What if they have lied to each other online, just to make sure they can make-believe that they are in solid relationships?

Yet, what it they have actually found their soulmates? Could it be that without meeting, over an extremely short period of time, you can actually fall for another person, and that this virtual falling is equal and equivalent to actual falling? Is it possible to tell whether a person feels warmth for you,when you have not felt him in your arms?

Perhaps, it works for some people. Often people can't distinguish between a cyber crush and love bites. Whenever this happens, it leads to a lot of virtual heartaches, which create angst which is real enough... The question that I must ask here is, is it worth it? Not knowing the person, yet knowing him, not seeing the person, yet seeing him... doesn't it take a toll on the emotional self?

Comments are invited:-))))

Closure

Why is it that when people you love and care for cause so much pain and angst when they move away silently? Isn't it better than tearing your hair out, screaming and shouting and creating a scene?

Perhaps not. It might stop you from causing a social embarrassment, but it does not stop you from caving in within, tearing your heart apart wondering what went wrong. It does not stop you from passing snide remarks, trying to mask your pain and anguish in being let down.

Let me tell you a story- about two friends. Lets call them X and Y. X was new in town, a shy young man, who had the most delightful million-dollar smile on earth! His job had brought him down there. Y was from the town, and the first friend X made outside his work circle. When X came into town, it was the monsoons. Waterlogged and woebegone, he almost hated every minute that he spent here. Then he met Y.

Gradually they became thicker and thicker. Sometime after they met and became friends, Y fell head over heels in love. X was happy for him. After all it wasn't something that happens everyday!

Days went by, and months went by... there was no secret between X and Y... or so Y thought. X and Y would still spend a lot of time together. He was treated like another son by Y's family- including a special showcasing of a family fight! And then Y introduced X to someone, who he thought he might get along with.

And they fell for each other.

Except that, the "other" had no intention of being tied down. He was hell-bent on getting rid of X from his life as a lover, and just keeping him as a friend- whether his intentions were good or bad, it was left to be seen.

Some inkling of this crept into Y's ears, and he let a "common friend" know what he thought might happen. Y did not tell X anything about what he thought, but he did drop a warning.

Then, the catharsis happened. X's lover started behaving weirdly. He went and confided in the "common friend" who very happily passed on the information that apparently Y was more in the know about the matter than he claimed. And then the fissure ensued.

Things settled down. Clouds were dispelled, or so Y thought.

X started hiding various aspects of his life from Y. Yet Y, like a fool, thought everything was the same as before. He never left any secret in his stomach as far as X was concerned. After all, X was more than just a friend. He was more like a brother!

Another year passed by. It was closing on Christmas. Y's lover had left the country for further studies. He sought for succour in X, for it wasn't easy to deal with the physical separation.

Then something rather strange happened. X stopped talking. Altogether. One evening he was across at Y's place, chatting with his mum, listening to a radio programme, and the next he had cut out Y from his life!

Y was distraught. He had no idea what might have happened to cause this sudden change. Yet, this separation brought about the revelation of many facts which X had suppressed from Y. It hurt him even more to know that X had always kept a lot of facts about himself hidden from him, when he had made his life an open book to X, made him privy to his innermost thoughts, his most passionate moments and so on.

Months passed by. By this time, X had moved out of Y's hometown, and gone off somewhere- to a place where Y had many friends. In fact, half the people who were friends with X over there were introduced to him by Y.

One fine evening, a friend of Y's bumped into X at a common friend's party. Naturally curious about what might have happened between the two of them, he asked openly about it. Then X comes out with it- apparently X had been told by "people" that Y had been saying things about him behind his back.

Where was the trust on which the friendship was supposedly based on? Couldn't X have asked Y whether he had actually said all that? Could it have been that statements had been taken out of context?

After months of tearing his hair out, Y is finally at peace. The fact that there was no trust between him and X made him realise that it was a good thing the friendship ended where it had. After all, it had been more of a farce than a friendship. A pity he had trusted X so much, but, nevertheless, it had never been reciprocated. From the secrets to believing others over him, X had gone the whole hog.

The other day, over tea, he told me that it was a good thing that he learnt that the basic trust was lacking, and that it had come from X himself. He stopped cursing himself and kicking himself, thinking he had lost a good friend. Now he actually pities X for having lost out on a friend in him.

Knowing Y for what he is, I kind of agree with that.

Tired

It has gone to the back of beyond this time. Ever since Mantosh left for Russia, I have been having sleepless nights. I lie awake till it strikes dawn, and then I manage to go to sleep, more out of exhaustion than anything else.

I cry, hoping it will make me feel sleepy. I cry for him, for me, for us. I cry for the distance, the want, the hope. Yet, it does not make me feel restful.

There is this part of me which feels so extremely uncertain. The only thing that I feel certain about, that I feel absolutely sure about, is our love. Everything else we want and we need seem so close to our grasp, yet so far.

I know I sound as if i am rambling. But that is the state of my mind. Turbulent, yet calm. Its as if it is the surface of the sea, where it's the deepest. Barely a ripple on the surface, but cyclones in the sand beneath the surface. Ripping things apart- perhaps creating something new, something more beautiful than ever before. I have to wait for the sand to settle before I can make out what ravages it has caused, what newness it has left behind, what it has cleansed, what it has warped.

I have responsibilities, just like the rest of us. Do all of us feel as if we are about to be buried under a mountain? Not a mountain of burdens, but more a mountain of expectations, in my case.

People think I am talented. I am led to believe, thanks to them, that I am. Yet, mediocrity seems to haunt me every step of the way.

Somewhere, I hope, the turbulence beneath the surface will rid me of the shackles, of the pent-up emotional debris that has been burying me for a long time now.

Somewhere, I know, our love will bring me out of this, clean and pure.

Somewhere, I know I have to wait.

Ain't no sunshine when he's gone...

Mantosh left today... for the year. It was all too much of a whirlwind. Here is a brief sequence of events- excluding most of the emotions, and events - since he came back to India this year, after 7 months:

His term ended in May, 2009, and by May end he was home desperately fighting off attempts by his parents to get him engaged off to a girl, if not married... he had to spend about a month at home just to calm things down. At the fag end of June, he came down to Calcutta to spend two days with me, so that a friend of ours,who was doing an article on us, could get some pictures of us... and Mantosh left with the promise that he would be back in July to spend our second anniversary together... but it wasn't meant to be that way.

His mother had to go to Delhi, and he had to accompany her- at her express request. She required him to be with her- for they were going to stay at his sister's place in Noida. This took about 3 weeks, give or take another. He promised to come down to Calcutta as soon as he could, on some pretext or the other. Once he was back in Bokaro, he barely stayed there for three days, when he told his parents that he needed a new laptop, and that he would buy it from Calcutta. Once he broke the news to me that he would be with me in a span of 48 hours, my excitement knew no bounds.

He came down last Thursday evening with the intent of staying with me for at least ten days, for after this, we shall be meeting next year, until and unless I land up in Europe.

Friday, Saturday, Sunday... Sunday was the day his father called him, and asked him to get back home as soon as possible as he had to go out of station, and he did not want to leave Mantosh's mum alone at home. His laptop was yet to be purchased, so that bought him time till today, Tuesday.

Today, we went and got his ticket home. Then we went across to the laptop store, and bought his laptop. After that, we went across to the Volvo bus stand near Babughat. The bus was about to leave in another ten minutes. After a few furtive goodbyes, I left. Abruptly. I did not want him to see how much agony I was in. Yet, I knew he had seen it in my eyes. He was in pain as well, but he is better at hiding his emotions. I did not want to break down in front of him.

For I need to be strong.

For its going to be a few more days, months, till we are in each other's arms again.

In the name of love...

Its been a while since I got down to some serious writing.. There has been a degree of mental and emotional fatigue pulling me down.... but with the amazing, absolutely amazing people surrounding me and supporting me, I don't think anybody could be down for very long!

Creativity is something that cannot be forced out of yourself. It has to flow. Fluidity is its essence- in spurts, or a stream, or sometimes a flooding river. Somehow, over the past few days I was on such an overdrive, that I started stagnating. There was a lot of cynicism brewing inside me, for some reason or the other... but not exactly being one of those who can remain clouded forever, I have come out of it.

My lover has been going through an extremely trying time. He even wanted to send himself to Coventry- and thereby leave me out of his mind. That did not help the overdrive I was on. I realised that there was a lot he was not telling me- he possibly thought he would hurt me in some way or the other, and that it was bad enough that he was being hurt, without adding to the casualty list. However, he did not realise at that point the fact that by doing this, he might have been sparing me, but he was hurting us.

I met him after eight months. I was quivering in excitement. I saw him. He smiled, and kept on smiling. I hastened my gait. As he came in, I quickly looked around, and gave him a quick hug and a kiss- my mother was all ready to greet him, you see- no privacy WHATSOEVER!

Yet, I could make out a distinct sadness in his eyes. It was tearing me apart to see him smile despite that.

Yet, two nights later, he was a different man- to a large extent. He left for his home a happier person- knowing I am there with him, for him,no matter what and knowing he has one heck of a large family- one partner, two sets of parents, two sets of siblings, and a helluva lot of dogs!

PS- here is the link to an article on our relationship written by a friend of ours, who we can't thank enough:-) http://www.indianexpress.com/news/in-the-name-of-love/481709/

....

I have been waiting...Its hot... Its humid....and I have been waiting... weary-eyed, teary-eyed... I have been waiting... the number is supposed to have been activated by now.. he should have called by now....I have been waiting... I tried his old number... Its not connecting.. I have tried again and again.. I have been waiting... sweat drops off my brow in beads... as I wait on... and I shall wait on till the sun rises, and the little tweeter sings at the strike of daybreak..

Smile

I smile when:

I smell coffee

I see kittens playing with sunspots

I feel the first drops of rain

I hear a certain person's voice

I feel a certain person's breath

I see strawberries and cream

I taste the same

I eat mangoes

I dream of the same

I see Pickles skipping

I see Lucky bounding

I see Alex's ears outside my window

I catch the sparkle of a gem

I used to smile:

When I used to see Reshmi glare at Tooki

When Tooki used to chase butterflies

When Shona used to check where my lap was and then fall

When Crownie used to cross her paws

When Missy used to go crazy over Barbie Dolls

When Bolai used to make the gooeyest eyes

When I would see my best friend smile

When I would see shots of tequila in front of me

“I love walking in the rain, 'cause then no-one knows I'm crying.”

It's about noon. The skies outside are absolutely overcast. When I stepped out, the skies were grey, but not dark. A few steps down the line, I felt the first drop roll down my cheek. By the time i was on my way to work, it was pouring, albeit in spurts. A sudden massive shower, with itinerant sprinklings. Luckily, or, perhaps unluckily, I did not get wet.

As I left home this morning, I was fuming within. I got irritated with my mother's behaviour. She has this tendency of constantly acting the martyr nowadays. Granted, she is right about the enormity of the responsibilities she has to shoulder, and I am not saying its easy. Yet, to suddenly,  out of the blue, bring it up in the most irrelevant of situations is nothing short of uncalled-for martyrdom.

We had a slight spar. I got utterly irritated with the whole thing, and stormed out. The last thing one requires is to go out of one's home with an overcast mind.

Things have not been easy of late. Problem after problem is surfacing with such alarming regularity, that we might as well start writing on our schedulers- "labour for the day...". The smallest things, somehow, are becoming Herculean in proportion. Is it a phase? Is it fate? When will it bide over? By the time we are finished with this, we might be finished with each other.

Shall we have patience to pull us through this? We realise where we are going wrong, yet abandon ourselves down the path leading us to unleash wanton fury where it is ill-deserved. There has to be an outlet for everything, but acid wears away what it stays in, as well as what it lands on.

Inflicting pain has become a habit- on ourselves, as well as on others. Yet, to preserve sanity, we smile, we smile where there is no joy, no happiness, nothing. We smile because there is hope, there is hope that we will not lead ourselves down the path of self-destruction. 

Surrounded by people, yet so alone at times. I feel for my mother. She is quite alone. Few friends, fewer relatives. It cannot be easy to just let go of all that is familiar to you, all that has been the way, your home, your life, your past. Yes, it is your past, the memories of the happier times, which, in a strange way, is both a harbinger of hope, as well as the shove towards sadness. Of not being able to recreate them again. In any form.

Today, though overcast, is cool, is quenching the parched earth, is a relief from the heat. Mother called. She was trying to smile on the other side.

I need patience. I have unleashed. I have hope. I, too, smile.

Phoenix Rising

evolving,

from the ashes

quenched my thirst

in the fire

burning away the scars of 

betrayal and disloyalty

the feathers wrenched and torn

my crest ripped, dripping blood

my heart wounded

yet, evolving,

from the ashes

with friendship, trust and strength

rejuvenated with the elixir of life

love, faith

glowing new plumage

a crest high and proud

eyes as sharp as razors

yet, evolving

from the ashes

the wounded heart

still scarred, though fading

still carrying the seed of hatred

of anger, of sadness

wanting to live beyond

go away from the seeds planted within

yet, evolving

from the ashes

the scar's healed 

the seeds sealed within

taking root

waiting to break through

yet, rising

from the ashes

new saplings

of hope, joy and love

for the elixir has worked

the futile seeds

suddenly full of life

melting the seeds away

moving away from the mother

moving away from the darkness

rising towards the light

from within the fire

yet, rising

from the ashes

I, phoenix

I, once burnt, betrayed, wounded

I, once scorned, ostracised

I, winged and strong

take to the sky

waiting for another day

another storm

lightning to strike me

yet rising

from the ashes

I, strong

not to be struck down

no longer do I singe

no longer do I cry

I smile

I cry out loud in joy

to see fools coming to hunt

get drawn toward the fire

from whence I rise

and get singed instead

Risen....

At the hour of dawn

It was a typically late Saturday night. Sanjib and I had gone across to Someplace Else for some music and a beer. As usual, I bumped into half the world at the Park Hotel. Where else would they land up on a Saturday night!

I came back home at about 2 in the morning. Not at all unusual. I chatted with Mum about all the people I had chanced upon there. By the time I wrapped up, it was about 3:30, and as usual, without a bit of reading, it becomes nigh impossible for me to sleep!

I don't know what hour it was. I just heard Dad calling me in a calm voice, with a slight hint of urgency, asking me to wake up. I asked him what the matter was... and he told me, in a matter-of-fact manner, that I needed to come downstairs, as Mum had died. I sat up with a jolt. This could not be true. I looked out of the verandah door towards the sky. It wasn't dawn yet. 

I went bounding down the staircase. As I entered the hall, I realised that none of the dogs were to be seen. May be Dad had removed them to some other room, for Mum's body was there on the floor, covered with a sheet. There were strange arcs of things which looked like mustard seeds around her, and little heaps of the same between the arcs. In spite of everything, I kept on wondering what it was all about. Somehow, everything seemed unreal.

Then my sister, Dyuti, walked in. She had been in Delhi till the previous evening- I thought that either this had to be a very surreal dream, or else she had flown down almost immediately on getting the news. As organised as she is, Dyuti had a list of people in her hands, whose names she was calling out to find out from me whether they should be called at the mourning or not.

I remember not paying any heed to her and staring outside a window onto our driveway. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a girl appeared- a very familiar face, yet I can't place her- clad in a saree. Short, plump, with short hair and a dimpling smile. Right next to her, yet again out of nowhere appeared a man in black clothes, with, of all the things on earth in this beastly weather, a black leather jacket! This man's face I knew- my friend Rocky. As soon as I saw them I realised they were no longer bodied mortals. I asked my sister to look at them, but she saw nothing, and got back to her list. Rocky just looked at me and smiled, and said, 'Yes, I am dead... it's a long story.... will tell you some other time.... actually we are here to take Aunty with us.'

I walked up to the window, and I pointed towards Mum's body and said, 'but you can't.. she is dead.'

The girl just said, 'we know....we will wait for her'.

In all this while I could not cry... everything was too bewildering. I started wandering around... still uncertain of what was going on around me. For some reason, Dad was nowhere to be seen. I presumed he had gone off to call some of our close friends and relations.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, I heard Mum's voice. She was standing outside the window where a little while back Rocky and the girl had been standing. She was calling out to me. I ran upto the window, and, smiling, more out of incredulity than joy, and burst out saying 'Mummy! What are you doing there? You are dead!'

There she was.... outside the window...typically in her house attire.. her long loose printed cotton nighties....her short hair dishevelled... her spectacles were not there though. She merely said, 'I know....'

I tried to reach out to touch her hand- it was resting on the window- when suddenly out of the blue Dad screamed out, 'No! Don't! If you do, she won't be able to go to heaven.. you need to let go of her... she is here because you are not letting go.'

I looked at her, and saw Rocky and the girl had come up to flank her. They too told me to let go, for it was time to take her away.

I looked away, and when I turned around again, she was nowhere to be seen, nor were the other two. I realised my Mummy was gone. How I longed to hug her and hold her and tell her I loved her... and suddenly my eyes opened, still heavy due to the distressed sleep.

I kept on lying in the bed, trying to reason out with myself, whether anything had happened at all. My first reasoning was that my Dad could not have called me so many hours after Mummy's death to actually let Dyuti fly in from Delhi. In the mean time I could hear all the dogs crying to be let out for their morning rituals. I laid in a little more- unsure of what I would see after going downstairs. Had it happened? Wasn't it too surreal to have happened? How could Rocky have died? Naa.. it was merely a nightmare.. yet I was afraid to go down and face the truth.

I got up.. decided enough was enough. I had to go downstairs and convince myself that everything was all right.

I went downstairs. The puppies were at it again. It was bright and sunny outside.... and Mummy walked out of her bedroom. I rushed up and hugged her... I did not know how else to react. I did not want to tell her of what I saw in my nightmare. Yet as I am writing this, she happened to come up behind, and read a few lines- so I told her... all of it... including the bits I have left out here. I hope I have enough time with her to let her know how much I love her... I can only hope.

Talent...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

That is the link to Susan Boyle, a Britain's got Talent 2009 Discovery. Rather nice.

Here's another one- George Sampson- Street dancer

Bloody brilliant! 

Here is Connie Talbot- a 6 year old...puts us to shame!

Tiger Tiger... no longer bright...

We lost our cat, Bolai, yesterday (15th April, 2009). It was surreal... the way everything went. I want to share what I felt at that moment, and through the day with my readers, but there is something stopping me from going through that pain again. For the first time, I am making the world privy to a written communication between my lover and me.

"A bereavement... painful, yet definite.. so strange.. every time I witness a death, it is as if all the realities of life seem like a pack of lies... I was so helpless, seeing him collapse on the floor like that... it pained me within. It tore me apart as the inevitable took me over.. even before it was over, i went out to tell mom, for i knew his soul had left... isn't it strange.. my eyes are welling up as i write this... 

I came back home with mom, with his body in the green basket specially bought for his trips to the vet, wrapped in the towel which we keep for him... his collar loose, in my hand, the bell tinkling away.. when i put his body into the basket, the body gave a gasp.. I looked up at the vet, and, well, as if it would have been anything else, he nodded the negative.. he was gone...

I put his basket in the landing, and I came in, washed my face, and went off looking for salt and bleach.. he needed to be buried... and there was no one.. I came back with the provisions, and got down to business.

The narrow plant-hedge against the boundary wall along the driveway- in front of his favourite window seemed like the best place... I took a shovel, and dug hard, and as deep as I could...kept on digging till I hit brick. I wrapped his body in a white cloth, and laid it to rest. It looked so peaceful....so far away from those needles and pipes... I did not let mum see his dead body... she would have broken down even more."

That morning was strange. The puppies were rather well-behaved. Bolai had been behaving in an extremely unlikely manner. He was defecating while sitting in one place, a sign that either he is extremely weak, or that he had given up. Weak he was not, for he was not allowing us to keep him on our laps or hold him tight. His stomach was tight- indigestion, I thought, and gave him some digestive syrup to cool it down, and it worked. For the first time in two days he drank some water. We thought it was a good sign.. two more days and four more shots each day.. he would be fine... he would hate us by the end of it, but he would be fine.... God knows that congestion in the chest can be bad... coupled with constipation... yes, he was a good Bengali Cat.

We went to the vet, and I seated mum in the waiting room, and took him in myself... the shots were administered, and an enema needed to be given. This was when it happened. We were holding him in place...

He started choking, fell off the table in struggle,  and went into shock, which induced a cardiac arrest. I loved him.. we all loved him... I buried his collar with him.... I can never hear the bell ring without being reminded of him. His best friend, Toffee, is still looking askance at his disappearance.

My afternoon's toil is right opposite his favourite window. He loved sitting there, watching the trees' branches sway in the breeze... or little sparrows swooping down.

Little heart, I don't know where you are, and I don't know why you left us, but know this- we love you, and shall remember you forever...  you will never have to feel closed within four walls again, or the harsh coldness of a doctor's table, or even the needles which were larger than your shanks... but wherever you are, you shall always be loved and longed for.

Never again shall we feel your soft ears, or stroke your beautiful eyes.... mummy's scars from your scratches will heal, but you have broken her heart. At this cost, I hope you got freedom from all worldly ties. May you not have to come back with one of your nine lives- and if you do, come back to us...

Rest in Peace, little one....

commitment

How difficult is it to make a relationship survive? How much should you give before you decide enough is enough? Do you really become happy by sacrificing your self-respect, your self-worth? How much can you give love, especially if love is not giving back to you?

Lots of questions rose to the surface yesterday- throughout the day I was kind of troubled with these questions, thinking in relation to a friend of mine.

The way I see it, as the cliche goes, all relationships are compromises- or is it? Till date, I have never had to compromise on my life in my relationship. If anything, it has enhanced, and enriched it. It is not as if my life was empty before it, but now it has a greater meaning to it... to the extent where my other half has truly become my better half... where our lives have mingled in such a way, that in certain ways, our individual identities have merged into one. 

It might be difficult to understand for those who get into relationships after a lot of deliberation. There is a lot of calculation behind such deliberation- and not bad ones, at that! After all, if one has to spend one's life with someone, one needs to make sure that his eggs are in an ironcast basket. In my case, my instincts told me that they were, but, as it turned out, it was more in a hypersecure underground vault which only the goblin bankers have access to.

How does one partner tell the other what he expects from him? How much of it should come naturally? I was and still am a good friend to many, and for a long time, treated my partner as a friend, who was more special than the rest, but a friend. I thought just acknowledging him as my partner was good enough... along with a good dose of fidelity, and ever increasing love. It was various events around me which made me realise that while I was busy being a pillar for other people to lean on, the only pillar I leaned on was and is my partner. He was not just being a friend, but he had become my best friend. 

My lover is my best friend... I have no secrets from him, and do not have any qualms about sharing anything with him. We have our fights, we have our making up. However, one thing has changed- I no longer treat him as just a special friend... he is way more, and I not only acknowledge it, but also show him that- through love, respect and understanding... and letting him know that, truly, my life would never be complete without him... and possibly lose its sanity and its meaning. 

Sometimes, it is important to be a little openly appreciative. Often we expect our partners to be privy to our minds- but for God's sake! Clairvoyance is a limited activity, and should NOT be expected constantly.  Yet, seldom do we ourselves try and read our partners' minds. Till we start at least trying, we are not giving our relationship the importance that is due.

Commitment in relationships go beyond staying together, way beyond sharing a home, costs, emotions. It goes into sharing mental space, emotional space and above all, bringing about a closeness, which no amount of distance and no number of outsiders can rid you of. It is not something that rids you of your identity as an individual, but enhances it to the level where you can be a couple as well as an individual.. where you can support dual identities... similar in approach, but different in goals... an amalgamation of two people with different attributes, but where, after a point of time, one individual's attribute is often part of the identity of the other.

Not everyone is created to be committed. Some people lack commitment in all spheres of their life, and most importantly to themselves. Yet, while some are not willing to give, we all want someone to lean on, someone to hug and someone to share our joys and sorrows with. Have we just decided to be selfish on the face of it, till we know for a fact that our emotional investment is going to fetch returns? Do we delay too much before? For some, perhaps, for others they are building blocks...

A few weeks of my life.. in a jist

Over the last few weeks, I have been going kind of crazy..

However, people who know me, tell me I am the most well-balanced madman they have ever found. I can already hear a few sniggers from the readers. 

From my dogs being ill, to my trip to Mumbai, to coming back and meeting my school friend after two years- that too at the hospital where his mum is admitted!- it has been a long journey!

Over the last few months, I have made some amazing friends, and I thank the One above for making me realise that staying in touch is all within the soul, and not without. It is not for show, it is to be felt at times of need.

Thank you Midhun, for making my Mumbai trip absolutely amazing. Thank you Rohit- without you I would not have made it to Mumbai. Thank you Ryan- your advice stood me in good stead.

Thank you Satya- it was touching! Thank you Baba- I wouldn't have missed the parrot's nest for the world:-). Thank you all those who have supported me in my efforts from Kolkata itself.... without your encouragement, I don't think I had enough gumption to make it through the train journey of two nights!

of culling and culture

The other day, my mother and I had a major sparring, verbal, and it boiled down to us making up. However, we ended up talking about various things, including the heteronormative society that we live in, the tolerance of homosexual behaviour, the so-called acceptance, and whether it is sustainable in the future. Her point of view is that it is still accepted on the surface, but the common people have no idea about it, nor are they willing to accept it, ignorant as they are. However, my counter is that there is far more acceptance in the common people than amongst the "uncommon" ones, because we go to greater pains of trying to adhere to heteronormativity. The common masses couldn't care less. They don't have a "heritage", or a "family name" or any other social handcuff. Yes, they might be afraid of what the Joneses might have to say, but not what the Patels, Shroffs, and Boses have to say... unlike us.

What makes us stand out? Why are we the way we are? Why is it that some of us prefer to be what we are and who we are and not pretend to be something which we are not?

I put it down to divine culling. With the population explosion, we, the gay kind, are put on the face of this Earth to lower the birth-rate of the populace. We are generally artistically inclined, and mostly averse to sports. The finer things in life fascinate us and we tend to look younger than the rest of our age group. Yet, in spite of the greater degree of sophistication, and the ability to imbibe the culture around us on a higher level, we do not breed (much). We have this innate desire to end our line with us, with the logic that there are more than enough people to continue the human race. We actually consider our personal lines unimportant.

Culling (courtesy Wikipedia):The word comes from the latin from Latin colligere, which means collect. The term can be applied broadly to mean sorting a collection into two groups: one that will be kept and one that will be rejected. The cull is the set of items rejected during the selection process. For example, if you were to cull a collection of marbles such that only red marbles are chosen, the cull would be the set of marbles that are not red. In this example, the selection process would be culling on red marbles. The implicit meaning is that the cull (the non-red marbles) are going to be the group rejected.

The culling process is repeated until the selected group is of the proper size and consistency that is desired. Take for example a talent contest. During the first round all the contestants compete and are evaluated. Since only a limited number of the contestants can continue to the next round of the competition, the group is culled based on the judges opinions. Those contestants that are not selected to continue are culled from the group. During the second round, the contestants perform again, have their performances judged, and are culled again based on the judges scoring. This process continues until the finalists and eventually the winner of the contest is chosen. By repeating the selection criteria with more stringent criteria on each round of the competition, the judges are able to cull the group to the single individual that they felt performed the best during the competition.

Is this our system of not heightening the race, but actually reducing it to the primal stages it has already gone through? Look at it- the poorest of the poor breed far more than the richest of the rich. The most intelligent people on the face of this planet seldom have a child, and if they do have one, they limit it to one.. who takes over this earth? Is it people with high IQs who can improve our tomorrow, or people who are perhaps closer to the roots, but have no knowledge on how to uproot the damage caused by the years of torture to our planet? Perhaps it would be easier for ignorance to reign over the ravaged earth, instead of the intelligensia trying to tear their hair out looking for solutions to graying skies. 

Perhaps I have deviated from what I had originally started off on. Homosexual acceptance is a necessity not to give us a place which we already have, but to acknowledge our contribution to society- our work in the fields of art and culture, in the fields of literature and language, in the fields of science and mathematics, in the fields of polity and environments. We shall die out, with no one to carry on our legacies- thereby making sure that some poor blighter is not bound by social handcuffs specially created to stifle him and conform him to what his family standards are. Or far worse... some other family will pick up where we shall leave... and the forging of the chains shall continue. Who knows? We will not be around to see it... at any rate.  

even before the Ides of March

The last month was an absolute roller-coaster ride for me. ALL my dogs fell ill simultaneously.. and that too with gastro-enteritis... some had it worse than the others.. Pickles and Lucky were put on the drip, and are still on the drip as I write this, but are out of the danger-zone. It was a harrowing experience altogether. My father has issues with cleanliness- and HATES touching anything "dirty". Between my mother and I, I think we cleaned out the house a few million times the last few days. I am sure even my D&G perfume is not enough to cover the whiffs of Lizol(R) on me.

It is strange to see who were by me while I went through this terrifying time- each day to wake up with the dread that you won't see a little one who you delivered with your own hands, each day to see him whither away. The most unexpected people stood by me.. whereas many never even appeared. Some barely bother to stay in touch. Others expect you to stay in touch with them:-).

Sometimes it got a little too much for me. Mantosh is not here right now- how I wish he had been here- it would have been so much easier! With every passing day, I appreciate his presence in my life more and more. He is, in reality, not just my lover, but also my best friend. Strange how he has managed to become so much for me... a person, who I never even knew 2 years back! 

I shall be off to Mumbai for my judgement day for the season. Lets see how it goes- and I shall keep my blog updated regarding my pets... and Holi is coming!!! yaayyyyyy

The end of January saw the marriage of my cousin, Debjani.  The 30th was the marriage ceremony. As usual, we turned up quite after the ceremony was over, but in good time for the food. Ben, my friend who is down from America, and is here to learn Bengali, accompanied us. Unfortunately, my sister, Dyuti, could only make it for the reception.

I was in a black dhuti and cream kurta, looking quite the quintessential Bengali. My father ACTUALLY pulled out a dress shirt for the occasion! Of course that was after a lot of nagging and cajoling, but I never thought it would actually work. My mother, for some reason, decided to do the whole mohur-route (for those who know her).

The gathering was small- about 400. There was a lot of warmth between everyone, and the bon homie was evident. Of course, such occasions are seldom without a few barbs floating about hither thither- the truant cousin, the snide aunt, and so on.

On the 1st, my sister arrived from Delhi. After a wait of two and a half hours at the Howrah Station, and the constant bickering of my father of how inconsiderate it was of Dyuti not to receive any calls or tell us that the train was running late, she arrived. It was with much effort that I managed not to vent on her! The poor thing- she had worked all of January without so much as one leave so she could come home for a week.

On the 3rd, we went for Debjani's and Santanu's reception. It was a small affair, as Santanu's mother had passed away merely a month or so back. In fact, for the longest while we were apprehensive about celebrating at all.

Something or the other went wrong- my father and I went down with food poisoning 4th onwards, and we are still convalescing as I write this! Last evening, I felt as weak as a mouse! Missed out on a lot of fun at the Tolly Club. The Red Hot Chilli Pipers had come down from Scotland. Apparently it was quite nice. The turnout was large as well. However, had I gone there, I would have possibly been running to the loo everytime the bagpipes hit a high C.

Thank you Ben- without your CIPRA, I would not have been able to write all this, and gab away on the phone too!

 

A lot has passed- HAPPY NEW YEAR!

It has been ages since I last posted. In the mean time, a lot has been happenning.  For starters, I turned 25 on the 3rd of November. At midnight on the 2nd of November, my friend Xavier gave me a surprise by dropping by with a lovely cake, and truly made my day! I was so touched... he had been going through a lot- the loss of his grandmother had brought on a lot of unprecedented expenses, yet he thought about me. The next day (on my birthday) my friend Rana invited me for lunch, along with my boyfriend and my mother... and lo! there was Xavier there as well! Currently, for some reason which he would rather not tell me, I am persona non grata for him.

Later that month, Mantosh, shifted to Russia for his MD course in psychiatry. It has been a gruelling few weeks, because for the longest time, there was  no net connectivity! It was HARROWING to say the least. 

Once the net connectivity came, his laptop decided to start malfunctioning. When it rains it pours- but I am very, very thankful for small mercies. At least I get to see him and chat with him online! Phonecalls are getting so goddamned expensive!

December was a trying month on an emotional level. Misunderstandings galore... (the whole Xavier thingy started then and as if that was not enough, there was another to follow it up with Arjun!) and a friend in the hospital... Ryan. Poor boy! He was there for 5 dreadful days on the drip, looking thin and pale. He is back in Bombay now- and actually in San Francisco as I write this. I would have spent a lone Christmas eve, had it not been for this friend of mine dropping by- and we pigged on whiskey and creme de menthe. New Year's eve was more or less as bad- or good. I got inured to it by then.

The new year got off to a good start. Rana took me out for dinner... which was lovely. However, within 4 days disaster struck. It was Sunday morning- at about 8 am, Arjun called and told me there was bad news- our friend Ryan (not the same one mentioned before) had died. I was dumbstruck- 20 years old, happy and healthy, yet dead. Yesterday was his funeral. I did not have the heart to go to the Church service before it- I did not want to see the boy lying still inside a wooden box. Something tore inside me at the graveyard yesterday. I find it hard to phrase it. 

Ryan- you were amazing when you were alive, and your thoughts shall remain evergreen in our hearts. Keep on spreading happiness wherever you are. We all love you!