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Archive for the ‘musings’ Category

Past Baggage?

Does your past ever evade you?  Or does it form a part of your present?

For me my past is an integral part of who I am today. It has taught me to love and lose, to cry over something lost and to smile for the happiness it has brought forth, to miss the moments that were and to smile for the fact that they happened, to realize that it’s finally over and to know that it’s over for a reason.

But then, does love ever stop?  For me love never dies, it changes form. So for someone I’ve loved with all my heart and soul, the love will never cease to be there. But it has a new dimension – from romantic illusions of a life together, it is a quite and resilient happiness for all that is signifies today- for him to be in a place he is happy in and I to be happy for him, irrespective of who he is with and where.

For me, my past was never a romantic affair that ended mid-way with copious amounts of tears and tearing and burning of mushy cards. My past was a love who perhaps never knew how much I loved him and wanted to be a part of his life. It’s weird because with him I can’t imagine that I would have ever held his hands and taken a walk by the beach, whispering sweet nothings. With him it was more of loving him by being with him, by being around him and most importantly belonging to him. That’s the only thing that I’ve ever wanted- to belong to him, not in a slave kind of way but in a way that nobody has ever felt – that close, that familiar. And that never happened. I loved, I lost. But it etched my mind forever- with a love that can never be washed away…

Today I am a stronger woman- a happier woman. I know I have enough love in my heart to give to someone who doesn’t care and someone who does. And for both I’m thankful.

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The Men in My Life

In order of preference…tho’ the preference keeps changing according to the mood…but its always them

For the smile and the wit

For making salt and pepper so sexy and so far far removed from food

For the perennial white shirt and blue jeans and the love for food and cooking

For the smile and the innocence in the eyes

And lastly…and most importantly…M…for accepting me with all my men 🙂

I love you lots…

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have you ever felt that you were emotionally drained? that you were giving too much of yourself to your friends, families, lover/loved ones and getting nothing in return? that you valued people much much more than they ever have? that you loved without being loved in return? that it was necessarily important to be loved in return when you love unconditionally? that there is something called unconditional love?

the last few days iv been constantly thinking about relationships and the significance it has in people’s lives. For me relationships hold huge amount of importance- whether it be friends, family, spouse. Office is possibly the only place where I don’t get emotionally involved but that is a conscious decision that I have made so that it helps me get my work done without thinking how others perceive. Despite this I still have a close friend at work who of course tells me that my nature at office has made everybody think that I hate them with a vengeance. which is good in a way. because if I have to deal with emotional soppy nonsense at work, I might as well hang myself and put the entire matter to rest 😉

But really, when it comes to friends and family, I notice myself giving much more of myself than I probably give to err…myself. I care about what people say, what I say to people, what people think, blah, blah blah. M tells me I go over the top but I have spent many a sleepless night fretting over whether I was mean to a close friend, did I hurt her even tho’ I didn’t intend to, did I really be rude? I know its a bit too much and maybe I’m a bit warpy in the head but more often than not, I’m right.

And of course then I go through these periods of time, like now, when I truly feel I have been taken for granted. People know that I never mind, that its OK to be rude to me, that its OK to say anything they want and even ignore me, if you will, just because its me. Because I will never turn around and bit them in the ass and give them a fair share of what they put me through. But aint I also human? Dont I also feel hurt? Dont i also want somebody to hold and cry? to tell them what I feel confident that they will understand me without judging me for what I say?

Like I said, I dont know- maybe its me…or do u feel the same way?

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Where am I…and where do I go?

I often meet people who ask me where I belong to…well thats easy I say to them…Kolkata- thats home for me…no but where do you actually belong, they insist… and I think hard for the appropriate answer and I say…well, Bangladesh…if you have to be very very technical.

For me it’s very difficult to pinpoint where I belong- what I really call home- what was home and what is home now. I grew up in Kolkata- south Kolkata to be precise. But Iv always been told by my dad and paternal relatives, that we are originally from Bangladesh and thats where our roots are. Even my mom’s family is originally from Bangladesh and now when I think of it, Iv often heard my grandmom saying that she would want to breathe her last in the house in which she was born- apparently that still exists and one of her nephews live there. To me, Bangladesh is really abroad- a land I cant even imagine I can call home because I have had no association with it, even in terms of a visit ever.

Iv lived in Kolkata for 25 years of my life. I have my family there and so does M. We have some of our very close friends still in Kolkata. For M, there is really no city he associates himself with anymore. He was born in Chennai, grew up in Hyderabad and Bangalore and moved to Kolkata when he was really at the age when teenagers start hanging out with their friends for movies, coffee etc. Also being the introvert that he is and having two other siblings, he never made any friends by the time he came to Kolkata. Most of his friends today are friends he has made much later in life and not in school or college. For him, his childhood has memories of him playing with his cousins and siblings. He often talks of Bangalore and i can sense that nostalgia in his voice when he regales me with stories of how they used to play in their bungalow gardens there. Thats possibly the only place he wishes he can go back to and the only place he can call home. I, on the other hand, make friends wherever I go. Even though they might not be really close, I am a more sociable person than M and can mix much more easily.

We moved to Delhi about three years back- actually exactly 3 years back to the date tomorrow. I moved out of Kolkata and pulled M with me, not because we got better offers in Delhi, but because I  needed to get away. I need my space from people and surprisingly enough, from my family. Iv had disastrous relations with them at some point in time and for me getting out and being in touch from a distance was the only way out. I did it and I liked it. But like every other thing in life, this also has its major disadvantages and I couldnt be there by my dad when he breathed his last. By the time I reached, it was all over. Ever since dad, Iv been thinking whether it makes sense to go back and be around mom, not because I need to…but because she needs me. I know that…but going back to the city I left for good just doesnt feel right anymore. I have been dilly-dallying with this thought for some time now and everybody who knows me closely enough has completely warned me against it because they know that I need my distance to be sane and calm.

For me now, packing to go home for short visits is fun…is refreshing…is nice. To be pampered and spoilt, to meet old friends over a beer, to visit some places I used to love. But Delhi is home…where I belong…my own house…my own bed…my own space…atleast till the time I dont run away again.

Edited to add: Now when I read this post, not a single line makes any sense…so just in case anybody else other than me is readin this, please pardon the incomprehensibility of the post.

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Platonic Infidelity

The other day we went to watch Luck by Chance- not to see the movie…but to see Farhan Akhtar of course!!! And while we sat there, two women, stuffing our faces with popcorn and drooling over FA, there appeared the Italian God, also known as Hrithik Roshan to blow us away. I didnt know who to look at, who was better, who was hotter…FA or HR. And I joked that this was the height of platonic infidelity…drool over one man and admire another. And while I sat there and watched the movie, this thought stuck in my head forever. 

Is there anything called platonic infidelity? Does it ever happen that your first love continues to be your first love, no matter how old you were and no matter how trivial it was? Is it possible to love someone without even knowing or even caring if you are loved in return? Is there anything called unrequited love? Is there any need to be loved always? Does reciprocation mean you will love a person more or can you continue to love without even thinking what you are getting in return?

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