sayonara

Monday will see me playing pilgrim. The tour commences on Monday and i will be shuttling between all the holy places (with my load of sins!) till 5th June. i honestly don’t know whether to look forward to it. We have been advised to take light woolen clothes so, at least, it would be a respite from the sultry days that summer has brought over here.

We would be flying to Delhi on Monday, picked up from the airport and driven to Rishikesh. From there, we would start the char dham yatra. Would write about the trip in detail if and when i come back.

And so much for my resolve of celibacy!!!

ice ice baby

i think he knows that i would not take the first step this time around. He has been all sugar and honey. Even though i have been mono-syllabic. He tried to catch my attention by showing off the Morehgi torch that has a magnetic base and demonstrated it by sticking it to the microwave. And i remained very uninterested. He wanted me to cook pakora thonga but i told him i don’t know how and he should cook it himself (i really don’t know the recipe – other times, i would have called up home and asked ema). Any other day, he would have been “offended” by such “uncaring” behaviour but yesterday, he was like “Even i don’t know how” and left it at that.

i know he is trying hard to woo me again. He refuses to be irritated by my silence, my perfected-by-practice i-am-not-here look. He insists on talking to me even when all he gets in return is non-committal umms or a snobbish nod of the head. OK, i give it to him—he is persistent.

Since i believe in prolonging misery – especially when it is not me at the receiving end, i have managed to remain cold as an iceberg. i am such a spiteful creature at times that it amazes me no end. And pleases me too. Because being evil beats being good. If i were not aware of my lineage, I would have really thought i was the devil’s spawn.

And just so to remind myself that maybe i have a drop of goodness in me, i called up ema to ask for the recipe. This is exactly the reason why i am so much in love with myself – because i can never figure out what/who i am. And so i give myself the benefit of doubt and love myself. Do i even make sense? And do i even care?

bitter..better..bitter

He is coming over today. His flight must be landing as i type this. i never got around to telling him i care - i saved that boarding pass though. Maybe someday when things become hunky dory 'ween us (and if), i would show it to him to make him realise how silly i am.

i stayed up till around 1 in the night cleaning up the place. Got up again at 6:30 to continue with the beautifying. A place unlived in for around 2 months is no joking matter to spruce up. To add to my joys, the maid decided to play traunt. Why?? Why today of all days?? aaaaaaaaaaaghrhhh...i played the super-efficent woman worried whether i have left out anything. His father is coming along and he has this thing about neatness. i bet the first thing he will do is run his finger along all the surfaces to see if have dusted everything - which i did. To add ghee to the fire, mother dear called me to ask if i have cleaned up the place. i lost it then. i told her i am no-one's maid that i have to clean up this and that. i know, i can be so unfair at times. She knows me too well to be offended by my oh-so-frequent outburts.

Why is it that, just because i happen to be a woman, i am supposed to be good at all household chores? i mean, is it a crime if i am not "home-oriented"? It is as if all my other qualities count for zilch if i am not one of those "sati-savitris" who pander to their men's every wishes. i sound so bitter. That is because i feel bitter right now.

i think i want to stay man-less for some time. Celibacy has its charms too.

he speaks for me...

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.
---neruda

dying thoughts!

i had one hell of a scary ride yesterday. The weather being cloudy, i was expecting the flight to be a bit bumpy. But hell, a bit turned out to be a little too much. I was trying to catch some sleep and the pilot announced that we were approaching Agartala. Cool. And then the plane started rattling. As luck would have it, i had parked my ass in the last seat which i believe is the bumpiest. For about 2-3 minutes (it almost seemed like an hour to me), the plane salsa-ed- up, down, left right, jiggling its ass, its wings. Turbulence, i have faced many a times without raising an eyebrow. But yesterday, i really thought the plane would take a final bow and plunge. The old woman who was seating next to me was rattling off all the prayers in the book. There were others who were crying.

All i could think of was the fight i had with him just before i left. Normally we always part with hugs and kisses and all that. Yesterday, we hardly talked to each other in the airport. i was thinking if I died, i would never be able to tell him that i still cared for him. i took out my boarding pass and scribbled “i love you” to him. i was thinking at least then he would know he was in my final thoughts. And then i thought if it should crash, then my bag might get flung away from me so i slung it across my chest so it could be found on my body!! So melodramatic, i swear. My life did not flash before my eyes. But the thought that i have left so many things unsaid troubled me. i think more than dying, i was scared of dying without making up with him. And of leaving my family behind.

The plane did not crash. And i still have not told him i care; still do care for him inspite of whatever i say. i am so silly. i might get run over today by a bullock cart and die and i might never get to say those three words to him. How stupid am i not to realize that life is not forever. That there is no guarantee that there might be a tomorrow to love.

Of course, i do know all of that. But my pride refuses me the pleasure of taking the first step.

Dil keheta he chal unshe mil
Uthe hi kadam rukh jata he
Hum dil ko kabhi samjhate he
Dil humko kabhi samjhata he