check.. check...check-up

In the last 10 years, i have had 8 medical tests - those stupid mandatory tests you have to undergo before they let you travel outside. And i have not seen the reports or heard anything about the condition of my heart, chest, stool or urine. Ever. Which makes me think i must be very healthy!

i went for one today.

i hate these tests - for one thing i have to get up early and present myself to be prodded and poked and blood sucked out. i cannot understand why they have to insist on taking so much of my blood considering that i don't have much of it.

i don't like the gel they apply before they attach electrodes and monitor your heart or whatever else they monitor. i don't enjoy changing into those sacks which pass for gowns and look like some human drowning in a gown. i don't like them making me read out the letters or trying to make sure i can spot numbers hidden in colourful circles. i don't like drinking half a bottle of water and then squirming about ready to burst waiting for the USG.

And today, after they drew blood (fasting), they offered me a glass of glucose laden water. Damn. i was expecting sweet, milk, banana, egg...anything but a glass of glucose.

And it is funny how the GP always assumes that you being female they can just cross out the 'Do you smoke?'; 'Do you drink?' questions. i don't smoke (unless you count the one time i took a puff of a bidi when i was a kid - yes, i started early -or the one time i smoked grass in Univ) or drink. But hey, i would at least like to be asked.

i was told twice today that my Bengali is so good. Actually it was more like 'Tumi khub sundar bangla bollo' (You speak beautiful bengali) and i went my usual 'oh ekhane onek din hoye geche tai jonno'. The other day someone told me 'Tomar Bangla tah khub poriskar' (Your Bengali is very clear). It made me feel as if my speech was a stream, flowing clear! Hah! i think it is because they don't expect me to be able to understand a single word of Bengali and then i open my mouth and ask something simple like 'Bag tah ki ekhane rakhbo?' and they literally spin around and do a double take. But then i remember being just as unbelieving when non-manipuris speak Manipuri.

Oh yes, and i have gained weight. One kg to be precise. But the lady who took my weight asked me 'Oto roga keno?' (Why are you so thin?). She was a nice one - even help me get into an ugly green gown that made me look like a chinky caterpillar! Ha ha ha...

And we celebrated Meitei New Year today. Katla mach, eromba and salad. When it is your mother cooking, well, everything tastes good.

...

i want to have my cake and eat it too...And when you are stupid enough to want that, then you are in for heartache.

Calcutta revisited

i love Calcutta. It does not have anything to do with the fact that i have stayed here for so long. i love it because it has a soul. Can a city have a soul? i don't know but this place is where i feel at home, home away from home. i love Imphal too but it is a love tinged with angst, of a love that somehow feels unrequited, unfulfilled. Like mooning for something that you know you can never have.

Calcutta has changed - what with its swanky malls and numerous flyovers zigzagging everywhere. The geography has changed - i can no longer find familiar landmarks, shadowed as they are by newer landmarks i do not recognise. But there are places still untouched, still the same as i left them years ago. Like the 8B market. Still the same murghir stall, the same dada who recognises me after 5 years, who fondly complains that i no longer buy from him and says i have become too thin, who tells me 'abar aasben kintu, didi' (But you must come again). The same vegetable vendor who always ask me where i have been, who throws in a lebu extra.

And then i know why i love Calcutta. Because of the people. Them fish eating, adda loving people. Sometimes, i forget that i am an outsider. But like SN tells me 'Tumi toh ekhon Bangali' (You are now a Bengali). She believes i have become one now that i can speak Bengali!

i love this place for having given me the few friends i have -M, SN, SM,SC, SS, ...Oh, i have only five friends!! Eeeeks.....And yes, him.

i went to New Market the other day. i have never gone there alone before. It has always been either with friends or him. i went searching for this shop called Elegant located near Globe. And it was no longer there. Empty space where it once stood. i felt sad. New Market is the kind of place where i can be guaranteed to get lost and never emerge - but then i have been known to get lost even in the office. i mean, you can enter from one side and emerge at another end from where you have no idea where the other end is. So i went in, came out from another end, dazed, lost...Went in again, came out at yet another unfamiliar end. In the end, i was able to emerge with my sanity intact, with almost a triumphant swagger!

Gariahat is almost the same. The footpaths still spills over bedsheets, t-shirts, shoes, bags, leggings and almost anything you can ask for. People still haggle.

One place i have not visited is my Alma Mater. It is but 5 minutes from where i stay but something stops me. Maybe i am scared of encountering ghosts from the past still roaming about the places i loved/love. So i just gaze at it from the car window and imagine nothing has changed inside - that the basketball court would still be stained with our footprints, that the jheel would still ripple with the sounds of our laughter....

But for whatever reason, Kolkata, ami tomake bhalobhasi.

Missing....

She came today after i had finished sweeping and moping - i didn't think she would come because it was getting late. i thought she must have taken sick like she is wont to. One look and i knew something was wrong. She said her grandson is missing and that she had stayed up all night crying and they still don't know where he is. At the best of times, she is a confused female, scared of everything.

i told her crying was not going to do any good - i am so against tears these days - and gave her some money and told her to go and file a missing person report at the police station. She asked me whether the police would charge money - i told her they should not but i am not sure. She asked me to pray for her grandson to return - i, the non-believer, the cynic - and i told her everything would be OK as if i know what is going to happen tomorrow. She cried some more, i patted her gingerly on the shoulder and told her to go to her daughter.

And i thought how terrible it must be to have a loved one missing - the uncertainty of it all, every waking moment wondering where he is, whether he is OK.

And Ema said she thought people only go missing in Manipur. If it had been Imphal, i would have been doubtful of the outcome - here, i have some hope for her grandson. i only hope he is OK and that he would come home. To his family.

this and that

Finally went to submit the visa application yesterday. Unlike the US visa, i did not have to put up with silly questions, just waited while a giggly female looked over the documents, took 200 bucks to keep me updated by SMS on the status and sent me off to get my biometrics done. Over in about 45 minutes.

Of course, finding the place was a bit tricky what with my non-existent geographical knowledge. i bravely tried to find the place in google maps, got confused even more if that was possible. But what is Kolkata without its kindhearted souls ever willing to guide lost damsels to obscure destinations?

Now have to wait till i get the visa stamped - if they don't reject it, that is. Got my ex-company to give me an offer to get my own visa so i would have to depend on his visa. They quoted a salary that was much higher than what i expected that for a moment i was flustered. Ummm....Thought i would not trust my ears and asked them to mail me the break-up of the components just to check i have heard them right. That was smart of me, eh? Like they keep telling you, get everything in writing.

There are many loose ends i need to tie up before i leave but as usual what do i do - nothing. And i will start rushing around at the last moment and get nothing done. i am so damn unreliable.

At times i don't want to leave but then i think of the good it would do for everyone -well, honey, money does matter. If it were not for the pounds, i will still be here. The things we do for money. The pain we buy for it. And in the end, it would not have been worth it. But still, i succumb....