For years on end, he kept on working. And working. And working - tirelessly, pushing back the cries of 'Take a break !' to the far recesses of his brain from where they would not teeter out again. But, once in a while, they managed to. Of course, he did not stop for that would mean widespread calamity ! Often, he wondered how much longer he could carry on.
He tried hard to remember when he started. He could not. All these years of hard work had taken its toll on him. How he yearned for his primeval surroundings ! The present smothered him - he felt himself shrinking inwards.
The sudden realisation of how much work he still had to do startled him out of his reverie ! He was the last one who could think of something like this. Even if the entire humanity took a break, how could he ?
How could He ?
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Oh no ! Soul tagged me !
Man ! This is the frst time I've been tagged ! That too by the great one herself - 'Soul'. In her words, this putting heavy heavy burdening on me shoulder, I very very tensionous ! Hehe, okay ! I shall do that in due course but a little bit of chit-chat before that. The weekend was fun - I had monday off in honour of a man who thought he discovered a route to my motherland but ended up somewhere else, to be precise, ended up here. Well, that does not concern me but the fact I had a day off makes me bless his departed soul ! I took my mommy to this state park in Indiana - it was amazing, peak fall colours, a lovely lake and brilliant weather. Oh ! I finally visited the Shedd Aquarium - after inhabiting Chicago for so long - can you believe it !
Okay. Enough of the niceties. Let's get down to the point.
Firstly, my hair. I've always had the freakingest hairdo in my class - at least while I was in high school. Now, its a lot more civilised but it absolutely refuses to stay put the way I like. Its like its got a mind of its own that motions it to frolic around - not elegantly similar to the gamboling of deer, but like the very awkward teeter of a teenager who's had his first couple of shots.
Secondly, what I enjoy at times (when I'm very peevish and Satanic, otherwise I'm very sweet - ask Soul) is embarassing people. They might be very good friends or people I do not know too well, but these considerations do not stop me from taking their asses. In an instant, I can transmorgify into this primeval beast and inflict the sharpest of verbal missiles on anybody. Yes, I mean anybody. Thanks to my friend V for pointing this out - I am trying to change.
Thirdly, I have no interest in studies/work but only think of food and cricket. Funny for a person who has completed his Masters and has started working.
The fourth 'weird' thing about me is that I can insist to talk in Hindi with my countrywomen ( not countrymen - see. I am not a MVP.) though I suck at it. Absolutely. And then make excuses that I get only the gender forms of the verb wrong. What else is there in Hindi !!?!? But, that provides good entertainment to people who have not known me for a long time. For the people who have, its another of the reasons for their liking/hating me. (I did not want to write hating. So, I put in the liking part too.)
Contrary, to popular opinion about guys, I like shopping. Or, rather accompaning women on their shopping trips. And, no I'm not gay ! Niet ! Niet !
Number six. When I meet somebody for the first time, I think he/she is good. But, thats wrong sometimes, well, most of the time actually. But, the bull in me refuses to change !
The seventh one is the most deadly. I can write shit. A lot of shit. See, you know - you have been through my writings. Haha ! Lol !
I'll keep it at seven. Like the seven deadly sins. See - another line of pointless shit !
Ohh ! I almost forgot. I gladly tag Brotix !
Okay. Enough of the niceties. Let's get down to the point.
Firstly, my hair. I've always had the freakingest hairdo in my class - at least while I was in high school. Now, its a lot more civilised but it absolutely refuses to stay put the way I like. Its like its got a mind of its own that motions it to frolic around - not elegantly similar to the gamboling of deer, but like the very awkward teeter of a teenager who's had his first couple of shots.
Secondly, what I enjoy at times (when I'm very peevish and Satanic, otherwise I'm very sweet - ask Soul) is embarassing people. They might be very good friends or people I do not know too well, but these considerations do not stop me from taking their asses. In an instant, I can transmorgify into this primeval beast and inflict the sharpest of verbal missiles on anybody. Yes, I mean anybody. Thanks to my friend V for pointing this out - I am trying to change.
Thirdly, I have no interest in studies/work but only think of food and cricket. Funny for a person who has completed his Masters and has started working.
The fourth 'weird' thing about me is that I can insist to talk in Hindi with my countrywomen ( not countrymen - see. I am not a MVP.) though I suck at it. Absolutely. And then make excuses that I get only the gender forms of the verb wrong. What else is there in Hindi !!?!? But, that provides good entertainment to people who have not known me for a long time. For the people who have, its another of the reasons for their liking/hating me. (I did not want to write hating. So, I put in the liking part too.)
Contrary, to popular opinion about guys, I like shopping. Or, rather accompaning women on their shopping trips. And, no I'm not gay ! Niet ! Niet !
Number six. When I meet somebody for the first time, I think he/she is good. But, thats wrong sometimes, well, most of the time actually. But, the bull in me refuses to change !
The seventh one is the most deadly. I can write shit. A lot of shit. See, you know - you have been through my writings. Haha ! Lol !
I'll keep it at seven. Like the seven deadly sins. See - another line of pointless shit !
Ohh ! I almost forgot. I gladly tag Brotix !
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
And thus...
The world would come to an end. With him. Though a bit obtuse, it was the truth. No amount of haggling could change the course of events that were to follow.
For the umpteenth time, she tried to bargain with the shopkeeper to sell the three thousand rupees worth saree for two thousand; she had to be careful - these days you could not quite trust anybody. Finally, the wiry-framed middle-aged seller caved in. The deal had been struck for two thousand two hundred and seventy-five only.
He remembered his childhood. The school, the friends, the neighbourhood, the smell of the football field after the first showers of the monsoons, the pujas, the visits to Flurys, the visits to Shiraz, the cricket matches - he remembered them all. But, most of all, he remembered his mother. He remembered her for all the fun they had together, for the support they were for each other, for the friend she had been to her.
One day, while at work, he received a call from his uncle. His mother had had a heart attack and had been hospitalized. Those last few moments brought back tears to his eyes. It was not suppposed to end like this, he thought. It was supposed to be different.
She was a bit nervous as the day of the marriage drove nearer and nearer. Being the practical person she was, she realized that no matter how much she loved him and vice-versa, it would indeed take a fair bit of adjusting to lead a life of sheer bliss.
Now, the time was ripe. He could finally do it. Nobody would stop him. Everybody would be busy with his sister's marriage. No one would notice anything different with him. For years, he had withdrawn into a shell and despised communicating with people, save his sister. Only she understood him and stood by him. The only glitter of hope for him in this dark and desolate world was her. How could he do this to her ? After all she had done for him ? Leave her alone ?
He decided he would give her the best wedding gift ever. And, thus the vial of poison was despatched into the wash basin.
For the umpteenth time, she tried to bargain with the shopkeeper to sell the three thousand rupees worth saree for two thousand; she had to be careful - these days you could not quite trust anybody. Finally, the wiry-framed middle-aged seller caved in. The deal had been struck for two thousand two hundred and seventy-five only.
He remembered his childhood. The school, the friends, the neighbourhood, the smell of the football field after the first showers of the monsoons, the pujas, the visits to Flurys, the visits to Shiraz, the cricket matches - he remembered them all. But, most of all, he remembered his mother. He remembered her for all the fun they had together, for the support they were for each other, for the friend she had been to her.
One day, while at work, he received a call from his uncle. His mother had had a heart attack and had been hospitalized. Those last few moments brought back tears to his eyes. It was not suppposed to end like this, he thought. It was supposed to be different.
She was a bit nervous as the day of the marriage drove nearer and nearer. Being the practical person she was, she realized that no matter how much she loved him and vice-versa, it would indeed take a fair bit of adjusting to lead a life of sheer bliss.
Now, the time was ripe. He could finally do it. Nobody would stop him. Everybody would be busy with his sister's marriage. No one would notice anything different with him. For years, he had withdrawn into a shell and despised communicating with people, save his sister. Only she understood him and stood by him. The only glitter of hope for him in this dark and desolate world was her. How could he do this to her ? After all she had done for him ? Leave her alone ?
He decided he would give her the best wedding gift ever. And, thus the vial of poison was despatched into the wash basin.
Monday, September 25, 2006
...
"Very well. Is this what you want ?"
"Yes."
"Are you sure ?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to change your mind later, are you ?"
"No."
"Ohh ! All right then. Here you go."
And with these final words, he grapsed the documents. His fingers quivered for a moment; he remembered those bygone days when they were an item.
"What are you waiting for ? Sign up quickly. We shall finally have what we have wanted for so long." The shrill reminder from his wife coerced him to do what he was hesitating to. His hapless look didn't have a chance vis-a-vis the glare of his wife.
She did not move. Yet. Stoned to her seat, she fished for words. So did he. One of those awkward moments returned to haunt them. Like the moment when he broke to her the news of his going abroad. Like the moment when she told him she was getting married. Like the moment, he in a fit of madness, decided to marry. Also like the moment, he discovered that she had lied about her impending marriage.
Shreya shed a tear. She, being equally close to them knew everything. She did not utter a word yet. She looked at the radiant face of the new-born. Little did he understand the intricacies of events around him. Ever happy, he kept on smiling.
All this had happened in the space of less than an year. And now another twist of fate had brought them together.
He thought, " What is wrong with her ? Why does she not tell me who the father is ?"
She thought, "At last my son can have a family."
The wife thought, "Yes, I finally shall have a child !"
Shreya's only wondered if she would be the one to break the truth to him.
After, all the formalities were over, she left. In her own quiet, dignified way - without any sign of the impending storm.
Days passed. The child had become a man. Life went on normally. Like it should have in the first place.
Ringg ! Ringgg !
"Hello !"
"Hello Vin ! Shreya here ! Come quickly. It's Maya. She....Its very serious."
"Ohh ! What happened Shreya ?"
"Just come please. Don't ask me why, but get your son too."
He reached - a trife late though. She had passed away. Shreya was there. So was her husband. They were the only people Maya was close to.
"You're late. As usual. All Maya wanted was a glimpse of her son. Actually yours."
"Our son !"
"It took you all these years Vin ! Why ? Why ?!"
"Yes."
"Are you sure ?"
"Yes."
"You're not going to change your mind later, are you ?"
"No."
"Ohh ! All right then. Here you go."
And with these final words, he grapsed the documents. His fingers quivered for a moment; he remembered those bygone days when they were an item.
"What are you waiting for ? Sign up quickly. We shall finally have what we have wanted for so long." The shrill reminder from his wife coerced him to do what he was hesitating to. His hapless look didn't have a chance vis-a-vis the glare of his wife.
She did not move. Yet. Stoned to her seat, she fished for words. So did he. One of those awkward moments returned to haunt them. Like the moment when he broke to her the news of his going abroad. Like the moment when she told him she was getting married. Like the moment, he in a fit of madness, decided to marry. Also like the moment, he discovered that she had lied about her impending marriage.
Shreya shed a tear. She, being equally close to them knew everything. She did not utter a word yet. She looked at the radiant face of the new-born. Little did he understand the intricacies of events around him. Ever happy, he kept on smiling.
All this had happened in the space of less than an year. And now another twist of fate had brought them together.
He thought, " What is wrong with her ? Why does she not tell me who the father is ?"
She thought, "At last my son can have a family."
The wife thought, "Yes, I finally shall have a child !"
Shreya's only wondered if she would be the one to break the truth to him.
After, all the formalities were over, she left. In her own quiet, dignified way - without any sign of the impending storm.
Days passed. The child had become a man. Life went on normally. Like it should have in the first place.
Ringg ! Ringgg !
"Hello !"
"Hello Vin ! Shreya here ! Come quickly. It's Maya. She....Its very serious."
"Ohh ! What happened Shreya ?"
"Just come please. Don't ask me why, but get your son too."
He reached - a trife late though. She had passed away. Shreya was there. So was her husband. They were the only people Maya was close to.
"You're late. As usual. All Maya wanted was a glimpse of her son. Actually yours."
"Our son !"
"It took you all these years Vin ! Why ? Why ?!"
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Travails of shifting and some other pointless stuff !
Uff ! What a couple of weekends I've been having - moving, setting the new place up, playing cricket, partying and playing goody-goody-son to my Mom (whos incidentally in town)...
For starters, don't move...even if your lease ends and you are all but kicked out of your place. I frigging moved for the fifth time in the last couple of years - one, MSV to South Commons; two, South Commons to Cunningham; three, Cunningham to Bridgeport #1; four, Bridgeport #1 to Bridgeport #2; five, Bridgeport #2 to PT.......quite an achievement, is it not ? Considering four of these five were accomplished in the harsh Chicago winter !!!
Ok..made endless trips to Ikea; nice little (!) place but throw in a male (read : MALE) roommie who loves to shop (oxymoron - anyone ?) and a disgruntled idiot who's taken the day off (that's me unfortunately) - buying furniture for a shared flat. See. Its not that difficult to see the point (or futility of the entire operation).
Played cricket. Yet again. Won 1 game, other got rained out. Made 3 runs in the first, got dropped for the second. Obvious. Quite obvious. Just 3 matches left, QF, SF and the Finals. Hope real hard its not curtains for me this season ! (All the readers pray too. Well, as of now I have just 2 readers I guess - Soul and Brotix.)
Watched Lage Raho. A delightful movie - don't remember the last time I got entertained so much at the theatre.
Aha ! Now one of the highpoints - went to Vision; great club, great ambience and great music ! Infected Mushrooms is just mindblowing !
Already looking forward to the next weekend ! Have a few chores lined up already. Hope this bloody awful weather passes off for some last gasps of bright sunshine !
For starters, don't move...even if your lease ends and you are all but kicked out of your place. I frigging moved for the fifth time in the last couple of years - one, MSV to South Commons; two, South Commons to Cunningham; three, Cunningham to Bridgeport #1; four, Bridgeport #1 to Bridgeport #2; five, Bridgeport #2 to PT.......quite an achievement, is it not ? Considering four of these five were accomplished in the harsh Chicago winter !!!
Ok..made endless trips to Ikea; nice little (!) place but throw in a male (read : MALE) roommie who loves to shop (oxymoron - anyone ?) and a disgruntled idiot who's taken the day off (that's me unfortunately) - buying furniture for a shared flat. See. Its not that difficult to see the point (or futility of the entire operation).
Played cricket. Yet again. Won 1 game, other got rained out. Made 3 runs in the first, got dropped for the second. Obvious. Quite obvious. Just 3 matches left, QF, SF and the Finals. Hope real hard its not curtains for me this season ! (All the readers pray too. Well, as of now I have just 2 readers I guess - Soul and Brotix.)
Watched Lage Raho. A delightful movie - don't remember the last time I got entertained so much at the theatre.
Aha ! Now one of the highpoints - went to Vision; great club, great ambience and great music ! Infected Mushrooms is just mindblowing !
Already looking forward to the next weekend ! Have a few chores lined up already. Hope this bloody awful weather passes off for some last gasps of bright sunshine !
Thursday, August 24, 2006
My Place !
Cool facts about the city I 'inhabit' :
"Cheekagu happens to be the land of Nostroo - the Epsyminian Sith Lord, originally from Coolkada; he was banished here by Motnikichu - the Emperor of the Durc Side after refusing to partake of his share of the giant Roschocogolla after their famous victory over the Zwshestuksus of Goollajamunia. To this day, Nostroo is revered by the locals who wear tin hats and confetti pants for 3 microminutes everyday as soon as they see the reddish orb in the sky, which they think is one of his numerous eyes."
"Cheekagu is a perfect realisation of the hypothetical Murphy's Laws; an appropriate example is - Whenever you shall carry an umbrella, it shall not rain; whenever you shall not, it shall pour."
"Cheekagu has been attacked by hordes of Vikeens, Breetes, Spenise and Bratinds. Actually, the natives do not realise who is on their side or what the cause of the attacks are. They just fight. However, every able-bodied soldier stops to drink the famous Kiagara - which they believe will end the wars - every day at the stroke of midnight."
"Cheekaguans eat. A lot. In fact, denizens eat so much that they have to go to the loo every 3.1416 millihours (1 Cheekagu millihour is equivalent to 0.001 times the time taken by Yuri Garginia to complete one revolution around Charon)."
"Cheekagu is actually called Zumbinihertifiasditticoorased by Earthlings. No special reasons really. Earthlings are just mad."
"Cheekagu happens to be the land of Nostroo - the Epsyminian Sith Lord, originally from Coolkada; he was banished here by Motnikichu - the Emperor of the Durc Side after refusing to partake of his share of the giant Roschocogolla after their famous victory over the Zwshestuksus of Goollajamunia. To this day, Nostroo is revered by the locals who wear tin hats and confetti pants for 3 microminutes everyday as soon as they see the reddish orb in the sky, which they think is one of his numerous eyes."
"Cheekagu is a perfect realisation of the hypothetical Murphy's Laws; an appropriate example is - Whenever you shall carry an umbrella, it shall not rain; whenever you shall not, it shall pour."
"Cheekagu has been attacked by hordes of Vikeens, Breetes, Spenise and Bratinds. Actually, the natives do not realise who is on their side or what the cause of the attacks are. They just fight. However, every able-bodied soldier stops to drink the famous Kiagara - which they believe will end the wars - every day at the stroke of midnight."
"Cheekaguans eat. A lot. In fact, denizens eat so much that they have to go to the loo every 3.1416 millihours (1 Cheekagu millihour is equivalent to 0.001 times the time taken by Yuri Garginia to complete one revolution around Charon)."
"Cheekagu is actually called Zumbinihertifiasditticoorased by Earthlings. No special reasons really. Earthlings are just mad."
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Morning Blues !
This post is not about me, well at least not just abot me. It is about those brave souls who have to brave the severest of odds five times a week often sacrificing their biggest love.
Guesses anybody ?!
If you wake up at 5.30 in the morning to catch a god-forsaken train at 7.00 to reach work at 8.30 umpteen miles away from where you reside, you will know.
If you do not, the world is not fair - just not fair !
Guesses anybody ?!
If you wake up at 5.30 in the morning to catch a god-forsaken train at 7.00 to reach work at 8.30 umpteen miles away from where you reside, you will know.
If you do not, the world is not fair - just not fair !
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Antics at a Polish Shop
I have a roommie. He is Chinese. Well, no - not totally. Quasi-Polish...a result of staying for 10 years in Warsaw.
I live in Chicago. According to my European friends, good meat (esp. unalderated bacon) is difficult to find here. So, some of us decided to go meat-hunting akin to the prehistoric times when hirsute men would go out to hunt and the women would stay home and rear the children (haha! kidding...); by chance, we happened to see this little Polish flag from I-55. "Eureka !", exclaimed the Polish-Chinese (I'll refer to him as the 'Dude'); now, I - the supreme connoisseur of meat (ha! never did I have beef and unable to differentiate between the kinds of hog meat found here and good old Cal) trudged along with little hope of finding anything good about the meat there.
Inside. We take the coupon and queue up. When we reach the counter, the Dude thinks it very prudent to speak in Polish. Impressed I was, impressed my other friend (also with us) was. We see him speaking. And speaking. And speaking. While he speaks all the girls/ladies at the counter desert their respective chores and giggle; actually, giggle a lot...... Finally, he stops; expectantly we look up to him and try to understand what variety of hog/kine we shall consume that very night. And the Dude says he knows from where the lady at the counter was - an anticlimax, afterlike 15 minutes of gibberish, he tells us where the lady is from. Well after yet another prolonged spell of gibberish, we finally get the meat.
The meat was good. The trip was worth it. Now we are regulars there. But, the girls/ladies still giggle when they see the Dude and us.
I live in Chicago. According to my European friends, good meat (esp. unalderated bacon) is difficult to find here. So, some of us decided to go meat-hunting akin to the prehistoric times when hirsute men would go out to hunt and the women would stay home and rear the children (haha! kidding...); by chance, we happened to see this little Polish flag from I-55. "Eureka !", exclaimed the Polish-Chinese (I'll refer to him as the 'Dude'); now, I - the supreme connoisseur of meat (ha! never did I have beef and unable to differentiate between the kinds of hog meat found here and good old Cal) trudged along with little hope of finding anything good about the meat there.
Inside. We take the coupon and queue up. When we reach the counter, the Dude thinks it very prudent to speak in Polish. Impressed I was, impressed my other friend (also with us) was. We see him speaking. And speaking. And speaking. While he speaks all the girls/ladies at the counter desert their respective chores and giggle; actually, giggle a lot...... Finally, he stops; expectantly we look up to him and try to understand what variety of hog/kine we shall consume that very night. And the Dude says he knows from where the lady at the counter was - an anticlimax, afterlike 15 minutes of gibberish, he tells us where the lady is from. Well after yet another prolonged spell of gibberish, we finally get the meat.
The meat was good. The trip was worth it. Now we are regulars there. But, the girls/ladies still giggle when they see the Dude and us.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Living with a Bong from Delhi
Did we bongs ever realise that shorsher tele machh bhaja smells really bad ? Or, we Bongs (only the ones from W.B.) are a lazy lot and waste(!) a lot of time discussing politics and playing carroms ? Well, maybe we have; the lingering doubt at the back of our minds regarding our self-proclaimed brilliance in intellectual matters and inaction often get obfuscated by our wishful thinking. Now, how would you like to be reminded of it day in and day out (ok, maybe not in and out, but sometimes) - no !
But, I have to. Now why is that ? I have a Bong from Delhi as my roommie (now, he is a jolly good fella, make no mistake about that) who feels the above stuff and many more and utters these only after after having a few shots of White Russian (like 'the Dude ')!
Of course he is right! Is he not ? But he is a Bengali too or according to him a Delhi-ite who speaks Bengali - I correct that broken Bengali (ha!ha!). Of course, he does not have any vendetta against us. But why does he feel this way ? What do you think ? Are we really like that ! Maybe we are.....maybe too lazy to think about petty matters like this.
But, I have to. Now why is that ? I have a Bong from Delhi as my roommie (now, he is a jolly good fella, make no mistake about that) who feels the above stuff and many more and utters these only after after having a few shots of White Russian (like 'the Dude ')!
Of course he is right! Is he not ? But he is a Bengali too or according to him a Delhi-ite who speaks Bengali - I correct that broken Bengali (ha!ha!). Of course, he does not have any vendetta against us. But why does he feel this way ? What do you think ? Are we really like that ! Maybe we are.....maybe too lazy to think about petty matters like this.
Monday, February 13, 2006
Maya
Maya is unique. It is one of those words which can aptly define many situations.
Like for example, when a theory funda is too difficult to grasp, its said 'byapar ta to puro maya...kichhui bojha jachhe na'.
If you have to get over something or say no to something, you say 'maya kore dawa'.
It is also very useful when trying to describe a woman's mentality - 'puropuri maya'; yes dearies another way saying we men do not understand you women.
Also, saying 'ki shangatik maya' to describe a woman's appearance would mean she is very beautiful.
And, the biggest use - to describe the universe and all worldly affairs - 'shob i to maya'.
Like for example, when a theory funda is too difficult to grasp, its said 'byapar ta to puro maya...kichhui bojha jachhe na'.
If you have to get over something or say no to something, you say 'maya kore dawa'.
It is also very useful when trying to describe a woman's mentality - 'puropuri maya'; yes dearies another way saying we men do not understand you women.
Also, saying 'ki shangatik maya' to describe a woman's appearance would mean she is very beautiful.
And, the biggest use - to describe the universe and all worldly affairs - 'shob i to maya'.
Saturday, February 11, 2006
Something
Every single thing in life is beautiful. Not only is it beautiful, but also holds a special place - a defining moment as it were, in which everything else cedes to hold any importance, culminating in the something transcending into becoming everything. What is rather funny is that we humans pay little heed to this something at any other point in our life; yet, at specific time snaps we are forced to meditate on why we had given no attention to that something at any other moment.
Like, for example, leading a stupidly insipid life, away from home, friends and family, it suddenly dawned upon me the value of things we take for granted. Even the mere presence of known people here is indeed a luxury, nowadays. However, never did I in Calcutta realize or even think at all that whatever I hold dear would be a sort of a mirage at one point later on in life.
However, another important realization is nascent now. No matter how great is what I miss of Calcutta here, the feeling itself is something - ahem, something again - that I would invariably be not ensconed in when I get back. A rather jolly bit of irony, if I may, yearning for something is in itself a something which could be yearned for later on. Well, the vagaries of human nature at work again !
How else can one explain the phenomenon that the thing we yearn for at one instant becomes overbearing and no longer appears indispensable later on ? Is it mere human folly ? Or, is it the immaturity inherent in mere mortals from which we have not yet been able to rise into a realm of more philosophical realities. Will we be able to solve the conundrum or be drawn into its abyss more and more thereby limiting our capabilities and faculties and rendering us incapable of progressing any further
?
Only time can tell. Oh! A cliche. Well, cliches are something, are they not ? Drawing us into using them over and over again - well, that is what makes them cliches, right ?
(Wrote this a long time back, more than an year ago, pretty soon after landing here...)
Like, for example, leading a stupidly insipid life, away from home, friends and family, it suddenly dawned upon me the value of things we take for granted. Even the mere presence of known people here is indeed a luxury, nowadays. However, never did I in Calcutta realize or even think at all that whatever I hold dear would be a sort of a mirage at one point later on in life.
However, another important realization is nascent now. No matter how great is what I miss of Calcutta here, the feeling itself is something - ahem, something again - that I would invariably be not ensconed in when I get back. A rather jolly bit of irony, if I may, yearning for something is in itself a something which could be yearned for later on. Well, the vagaries of human nature at work again !
How else can one explain the phenomenon that the thing we yearn for at one instant becomes overbearing and no longer appears indispensable later on ? Is it mere human folly ? Or, is it the immaturity inherent in mere mortals from which we have not yet been able to rise into a realm of more philosophical realities. Will we be able to solve the conundrum or be drawn into its abyss more and more thereby limiting our capabilities and faculties and rendering us incapable of progressing any further
?
Only time can tell. Oh! A cliche. Well, cliches are something, are they not ? Drawing us into using them over and over again - well, that is what makes them cliches, right ?
(Wrote this a long time back, more than an year ago, pretty soon after landing here...)
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