Saturday, 14 November 2015

The Twenty-Six Year Old Child

It was an orange scarf that hid in a corner of my cupboard and I never bothered giving it a second glance. I had never worn it, and would probably never use it, and so it lay tucked in its corner, bearing the burden of other clothes piled on top of it, almost forgotten. Until one fateful evening when my mother told me to give it away in order to clear some space. Despite the fact that it took her over half an hour to explain which scarf she was talking about, I put my foot down and refused to get rid of it. And so it stayed in my cupboard, and it still has never been used.

As I reflect on my behaviour, I know it is the kind that probably a four year old is more suited for, and I wonder what made me react in this strange possessive manner. It isn't just about the scarf but, in general, I am not someone who likes doing away with things. I have been this way since I was a child, and at twenty-six, I am not sure if I am any different.

I often wonder: do we really change with time? Do we actually grow up or are we the same people inside who would react to things the same way they'd do before if only they were given the space? As we start developing physically, our process of socialization ensures that we start reacting in ways that we are expected to, but do we really change as a person inside ourselves?

The process of growing up involves behaving in a way as expected by our peers, family members and significant others. So, we try hiding the green monster with a smile when we greet some people. We brush off our irresponsible side with finesse and each and every moment, we stand, all geared up to brave the big, fierce world. We try hard to fill the gap and be the person we are expected to be in order to match the image they have of us. But, somewhere inside, we still enjoy those small joys; we still like to do silly things; and some wishes that were once our dreams continue to haunt us.

Each one of us, according to me, is unique, and born with a different set of abilities, habits and desires. Rather than trying so hard to fit in with the rest, we should just own up to who we truly are and work towards achieving what we were born to do. If your first instinct as a child was to gather up some vessels and make music, chances are that it still is! Hence, this Children's Day, let us resolve to loosen up a bit, and be the person our inner voice has been screaming out to be. After all, we don't really "grow up", we just learn to hide ourselves better.

Happy Children's Day Everyone! Let Us Always Remember To Celebrate The Child In Each One Of Us!

Friday, 13 November 2015

City Lights

She woke up to a morning just like any other, and stared at the rays of the sun glinting through her expensive French windowpane. Everyone talked about the big city lights, but no one had told her about the darkness - when those lights go off, and the sun comes out.

In the big city, she kept stumbling upon people who were running as fast as she was in order to achieve something. In the race to the finish, she had lost many people, and had gained only a few. But, at the end of the day, she wondered if coming home to an empty apartment on the 26th floor had been worth the chase.

Her weekdays were always fast-paced, rushing throughout the day to complete work and then whiling away time with colleagues as evening turned to night. It seemed to her that weekends were reserved for the sole purpose of sitting down and pondering about life, in general.

She had been so busy chasing her dream that she had not looked back even once to contemplate or take a chance at love. She could not trace when that dream ended, and when she woke up to realize that the chase to glory had not been enough to fill her life with contentment? The philosophical books that she often delved in to find answers kept reiterating that happiness is a state of mind, but what was the essence of her life without people to share it with?

A walk down the beach always helped her clear her mind. She saw the young mother struggling to help her toddler build a sandcastle. She smiled at the two girls playing volleyball. There was an old couple sitting not far away. They were sitting down, holding hands, and watching the waves that arrived dancing on the shore. Their serene expressions made her realize the importance of relationships in her life. She realized that she needed to add another point to her chase.

Often the big city lights blurred her vision and drove her to go right to the core of her dreams. Next time, when those lights shut off, she decided to take a closer look at herself in the dark. Darkness was always an honest friend - it ruthlessly told her exactly what was missing in her life without any sugarcoat. It was time for her to start going after that for a while. The big city had appeared to be fun only when she had someone next to her, who saw her for what she was, and noticed things beyond the glitter and glamour - things that the shiny crowd failed to note.

It was now time. It was now time for her to find the knight in shining armour. She had not been designed to play the part of the distressed damsel who needs rescuing. Instead of waiting to be rescued by him for her happily ever after, she needed to wake up and find it herself.

Thursday, 5 November 2015

Heart-Break

The first time she read the note, she had no idea it was not just any note, but the one that would change her life. In the time that she finished reading it, her life would begin its process of being rewritten:

Dear Beloved,
Not a moment goes by without me hunting for a life worth living or seeking knowledge that is worth knowing. I don't feel like I belong anywhere. I therefore have everywhere to go! Your love has transformed me in ways that I previously could not fathom. It gives me strength to seek newer lands, collect more pieces of me, and build myself anew.
I will always remember you even in my new kingdom! I'm sorry I cannot take you with me.
Yours Truly.

He had always been a nomad at heart. She knew she would not be able to keep him forever. But this rather unceremonious parting was too much to bear. He had always talked about exploring strange lands, discovering new ideas, but what had caused him to take off suddenly? She tried rewinding to their last meetings to see if she had said or done something to tick him off but she found no clue. Alas, it was a futile exercise. Revisiting past events never led anyone to discover the truth. It only resulted in interpretations. Would he ever return? She wondered about the possibility. It was of no use either. The future was just an illusion.

He was gone and she was alone. Suddenly, the silence gripped her. She despised silence. Whenever a thick smog of silence descended, the yapping voices inside her head became all the more audible, rising to the surface, one by one. She liked to believe that she knew all the voices that resided in that inner harm, yet she was scared of chancing upon those she had never met. Together, the voices just made noise instead of music, each talking at the same time as the other, in tones louder than the others, without listening to a word of what was being said. The voices frightened her. They made her scared of her own diversity. She hated coming in contact with the disintegration inside of her. It was rather unsettling.

She knew that she had always been a clinger. Even now, she wanted to cling, to bits and pieces of his existence here and there, with no firm grounding, no center and no coherence in her life. To put it simply: she was a mess.

She stared at the note yet again:
So, he was setting off to conquer kingdoms? What was he trying to prove to her? Was he trying to convince her of his valour or spirit? Why had he run away, evading all questions she would have asked if he had said a proper good-bye?

But then, she wondered, if she would have ever asked the questions that were now racing inside her head. In all this while they had been together, not once had she unashamedly bared her soul before him. He did not know much about her fears and scars. She had never rendered herself vulnerable in front of him. He had never been presented with an opportunity to realize that her greatest strength could be found in her flaws.

He too had his insecurities. He was too afraid to seize what he loved, and therefore was blindly chasing unknown territories. It was alright if love passed him by. After all, he would still have his new kingdom.

She found a way too to alleviate her pain. It was a simple solution, really. After all, whenever one wishes to destroy something, all one needs to do is surround it with walls. So, a massive wall she built around herself replacing all her now-obsolete beliefs with the new. No more did love call out to her, excitedly telling her to let go. Now, she listened to the voice of reason and approached everything with care and doubt. "Be careful, protect yourself" was her prime concern. This new approach never let her fall. Her old belief had only caused hurt and had her life falling into ruins.

The stranger heard her story and could not help but smile. After all, it's only in ruins that one finds treasures. Her broken heart hid many treasures; and it was now up to him to uncover them all...

Monday, 26 October 2015

Movie Review: Chotushkone (Bengali)

This weekend, I happened to watch one of Srijit Mukherji's movie, Chotushkone. Even though the movie released last year, I just felt the need to review it for it's been long since I watched an Indian movie that breaks the conventional style of story-telling.

You know the movie is going to be gripping when the first scene of the movie begins with a woman writing a suicide-note stating that no one is responsible for her death and then scratching out the 'no one is responsible' part. The premise of the film seems simple at first: four directors are on their way to meet a producer who has agreed to make a film featuring four stories directed by them. Each of their stories, however, must represent 'death' as a theme in some way or the other. These four directors, Trina, Joy, Sakyo and Dipto are familiar with each other, and as the story progresses, their past is discussed and several disclosures come to light.

Even though 'chotushkone' actually means a quadrangle, I liked the way Mukherji deconstructs this structure, first, as a triangle, and revealing the fourth side only towards the end. I will take the risk of not saying anymore about the plot for I do not wish to give the story away. Chotushkone  takes the audience on a bumpy ride with constant flashbacks merging with the present day. The plot is extremely layered with many twists and turns, but one criticism that I do have is that I feel Mukherji gave the climax away a little, say about five to ten minutes, early. Also, some of the sub-plots could have been fleshed out more. Out of the stories of the four directors, I particularly enjoyed Trina's story the most.

The music is melodious and refreshing. I particularly loved the song Bawshonto Eshe Geche. 
The cinematography is brilliant with the film being shot in five different tones. Srijit Mukherji's brilliant story is supported by a stellar cast comprising of Aparna Sen, Parambrata Chatterjee, Goutam Ghosh and Chiranjit Chakraborty.

I would recommend this movie to everyone. It is an uplifting ode to Bengali cinema that breaks conventional styles of storytelling and is bound to keep you entertained. Looking forward to watching more movies from Srijit Mukherji. He is definitely one to watch out for!

Wednesday, 14 October 2015

The Understanding

It was a crowded day at the mall. Two friends mercifully managed to get off work early in order to catch up.
"I couldn't wait to see you!" she exclaimed. "He finally proposed!"
"Oh, that's wonderful!" came the squeaky high-pitched response.
Both friends embraced each other - one to share her happiness, and the other to mask her state of confusion...

They chattered endlessly while eating dinner. In between bites, the friend spread out a piece of paper and scribbled earnestly. Lots of plans needed to be made. Apparently, an entire childhood had not been enough to fantasize about the dream wedding. The friend continued jotting down finer details of the wedding-dress and the guest-list. She drew out a neat timeline of the tentative flow of events. It gave her some sort of stability and comfort knowing that there was something solid and familiar amidst all the haphazard chaos.

Indeed, the amount of chaos in her mind was tremendous! She was still trying to process all the information. Everything was happening too soon and she could feel the wall that she had built around herself crumbling. From a distance, one could see two friends excitedly talking about the future. Only she knew the true reason behind her incessant babble. She knew if her mouth failed to do its job, her eyes would give away what she was so desperately trying to conceal.

She had always been the spare wheel. Time after time, she had seen her friends jump from one relationship to another until they had finally settled upon 'the one'. She had been with them in all their adversities, nursing them through rejections and break-ups, assuring them that things would be all right. And in the end, things had always fallen into place. Well, for them. Once they had settled in their newly-found haven, they conveniently left her behind.

She had never felt completely isolated for she was approachable and it was easy making new friends. Yet, she missed those who had let her go. Building relationships took time and it wasn't fair to have to build a new one all the time from scratch. Was she so easy to forget, she often wondered to herself. Why was she always just a filler? Surely, her existence had more meaning.

As she reflected on her past friendships, she realized no one had been by her side when her heart got broken. No one cleared their schedule to make time for her even during emergencies while she had always been just a phone call away. Perhaps, she was the problem. Not they. Perhaps, no one would give her a lot of importance until she started prioritizing herself.

Suddenly, she saw her friend staring at her.
"Penny for your thoughts?" remarked the friend. "Where have you drifted?"
"Nothing," she simply shrugged. "I was just thinking of work," she said. "Something funny had happened..."
"Oh, I will hear about that later!" dismissed her friend.
She knew this was the moment. It was up to her to seize it. "No," she snapped. "I would like to talk about it now because 'later' never comes. I am very happy for you. I genuinely am! But have you realized that in this entire while, not once have you asked me how I'm doing? Would you not like to know what is going on at my end?"
Her friend was surprised. Nevertheless, she decided to humour her. "Sure, tell me. Did someone ask you out?"  
The dismissive tone hurt. She realized that she could not expect to be treated the way she desired from her friend. It was her fault, she acknowledged, but there was no point in beating herself over it. It was time to rectify the mistake she had been committing for so many years. She had to respect herself in order to get that respect from others.
"I just remembered that I need to be somewhere," she said. "Sorry, but I really need to go."

She picked up her bag, dished her share of the bill on the table and walked out without looking back even once. She knew she was leaving behind a rather perplexed friend, but her heart skipped with glee at the realization that she was also leaving behind her old inhibited self. The tables were turned and from that moment onward, everything would revolve not around the others but around her and her needs. She had embarked on a new journey and once again, life would become beautiful!

Monday, 12 October 2015

Moving Forward

They met yet again only to talk about work and other vacuities. Suddenly, he glanced at the clock and, with a nod and a smile, indicated that it was time for him to leave. She watched him walk away and wished he would stay a while longer, for the conversation was still not over. She could listen to him talking about things forever.

She loved him. She really did. She was drawn to him the way one's in love with their favourite bar of chocolate - it seems to be the best and one wants to eat it all the time but it's not really a healthy choice.

The love that she had for him consumed her, left her parched and begging for more even after it had dried out and left her for dead. Consumed by his love, she felt as if she was living a fairy-tale for she was obsessed with a love that was not real. She was in love with a love that did not exist.
She loved him more than she loved herself. She idealized him and put him on a pedestal. And, each time, he let her down, she ignored the shattering of her heart. "He's only human," she tried reasoning with herself. "Everyone makes mistakes." She believed he was not doing it on purpose. Love blinded her and she failed to see him for what he was - a self-destructive being that eviscerated every good thing that came his way. She found herself hopelessly devoted to him. She was there for him at every beck and call. Her life revolved around his happiness. Making him happy was no easy task. Sometimes, she messed up and had to face his wrath. But the storm always cleared after a while; and when the sea calmed, she relished in those brief moments of tranquility. For sporadic and fleeting periods of time, the waves stopped relentlessly crashing down her soul, and she found herself starting to trust him again completely.

But in her heart of hearts she knew what was amiss. Secretly, she knew she had become addicted to the pain.  She knew she had loved him more than she had loved herself but true love did not hurt. True love is not an addictive drug.

Finally, she knew it had to end. She had thought him to be her knight in shining armour. But, in reality, she was the one who had been saving him. With this realization, she knew she had to let him go. She had to let him go even though she knew that she could have him all to herself. She loved him and thought the world of him. Still, she had to let him go. She had to let him go because she could not see beyond her inadequacy of being with him.

As she saw him walk out of the door, she felt her heart crumble. She followed him outside and surprised him with a sudden hug. She held him close and felt at home. She felt love - that mysterious thing everyone seems to be indulging in the eternal search for ! She could not let him go. She did not want to! She could not see beyond her inadequacy of calling him - her own, having him all to herself.

But she let him go. She let him go - knowing he was finally home. She found happiness in the belief that he was where he belonged. She had lost her way and needed to find a place she could call home. Home was not where he was. Love did not reside where he did. She needed someone who loved her no matter what. She needed someone who made her feel free. Love always transpired between equals. She needed to find a man who deserved her as much as she deserved him. She needed a man who loved himself in the same manner as she had started loving herself.
In leaving him, she found herself. He was all she had. But she let him go knowing 'she' was all he had.

Tuesday, 6 October 2015

The Absent Friend

Every morning as I rushed out of the house, I always saw her lying in her self-designated spot with eyes only half-open. She enjoyed a lazy morning and rarely stirred. Initially, as I passed her by, she would look up expectantly, hoping to be patted. On most days, she would face disappointment because I, usually running late to work, could not afford to waste an additional five seconds to pat her and go. On the few days that I did manage to find the time to pet her, she would get a wee bit more demanding and want to be stroked all over. She would then follow me till the end of the gate where she would stare at me with a forlorn gaze as I left her behind and headed towards the station.

She had been living in the compound for many years and had befriended all the small children and the watchmen. Everyone called her 'Bubbly'. Our compound has many dog-lovers and she was always well-fed. Every evening when I returned home, she would again be lying in the compound treating herself to a siesta after eating a heavy, hearty meal.

It was in the night-time that she was quite active. Whenever I returned home late, she would nicely be taking a stroll in the compound. Her presence made me feel safe.

There were occasions when she did venture outside to meet some of her other friends. There was a black and white dog who often visited her, but she was very possessive when it came to the sharing of attention! I remember playing with her black-and-white friend on a couple of occasions but if I dared to first pet her friend rather than her, the jealous dog would snarl, growl and chase her friend away!

Once, the watchmen had adopted a small kitten that had been abandoned by its mother, and they were looking after her. The poor kitten was missing one leg and half a tail. I had always heard that cats and dogs can never be friends but Bubbly, to my surprise, welcomed the little one and had no qualms in sharing her relaxation-spot with her. Of course, the only time she threw tantrums was if I ended up playing with the kitten before greeting her. Oh, how she would sulk!

On some particular nights, Bubbly would allow me to feed her biscuits. Such times were rare as she used to be usually full. But it was funny to see her jumping to eat those biscuits just because she knew that if she refused, I would offer them to the kitten who I had affectionately named Beraal!

Bubbly had been missing for quite some days. There had been episodes in the past where she went into hiding for quite a while and suddenly resurfaced so I did not read much into her disappearance. But, after a while, her absence became more pronounced. It had been more than ten days since I saw Bubbly. Finally, after a conversation with a watchman, I remembered how dogs run away from their homes when they know that their end is near; and I realized, with a lump in my throat, that my Bubbles was no more.

I knew she was quite old, but I wish she had been around longer. Whenever I felt upset, I would just take a walk down my building and play with her. She was intuitive and seemed to know when something was bothering me - on those occasions, she would be more playful than normal; and spending time with her caused my troubles to evaporate for that brief moment. I miss her. I wish I had got a chance to say a proper good-bye. After all, she was the pet I never had. I just hope my memories are enough to keep her alive...