Let Us Be Our Own Batman

New Girl In The City

An extremely clichéd title aha! I thought I would make this title when I shift Mumbai (the city of exes) and write up a similar post about exploring and knowing the city with a special someone. Bangalore happened so I become the clichéd person that I am anyway! I will change the title to a second title now, because, well, because.

So the city is overrated. Yes you do have a LOT of alcohol places and you do have a lot of freedom but I am a believer in enjoying all the small and big, happiness’ and sorrows on double ticket. That could of course be a BIG problem, especially when you wake up with Kolkata dreams and message disappointments every day!

The city in itself other than being a little too overrated has a brilliant weather. I remember the free saunas that Kolkata was serving when I came. Here I get beautiful customary storm followed by rain almost every evening from The Accenture shuttle which I  walk almost a kilometer from Tower C to Tower A to take. Then one hour jam from the building to main gate with Bangla, yes Bangla songs, brightens or lightens my mood depending on the kind of day I’ve had had. This city has however strengthened my belief on the strange connection that my extreme mood has with the rains. That again is a story for some other day.

I did meet these sweet little girls who tried convincing me for 30minutes the other day that Mango Ice Cream is actually a smoothie (and had to give up eventually)! However, the mishti cravings with or without the smoothie in the middle of the night after a meal that has carrot overdose will make your heart cry out for Mommy dearest! The kind of drama I used to do when there used to be a bad (read any vegetable that is not Chicken or Egg) for dinner and on the blue moons that had no dessert (read mishti) post lunch, I would make the saddest (read meanest) face to Maa for the ‘torture’. Those were some days and these are the other days when my Sunday lunch is spent partly on sulking over the Rasam and partly on convincing Maa that the food is good!

These oh-Mommy-is-the-bestest of course are the dinner bed topics which would make you shed a tear or two secretly (especially when you wash your dish as well, for the first time ever, ei boyeshe eshe) others would howl and cry while the city horns and midnight wind will make you quite, very heroine like. Is this what I wanted from life? Is this not? The answer would be difficult and cannot be answered in one word. The value and importance of Maa has increased manyfolds. The ghyan ghyans have increased by ten times. She was convinced the reason why I said I’ll leave everything and be back is not for the love of Kolkata or her, but because ‘ghyan ghyan korte parchhishna’. One thing that Bangalore has made me realize is the fact that I must never have babies. Not that I would have the chance to have one anyway but I must not have as well because I am not meant for so many sacrifices and compromises. I am doing enough for this lifetime already. Oh Maa, I love you!

Now, my patent shit. Yesterday, while I was lying in pain on the sick bed for two hours straight, a strange thought occurred to me. It was the same pain exactly 2 years ago when I was questioned, called, messaged, right from the middle of a brilliant movie, because, well, because. I would forever be grateful to Sidd for tolerating a few hours on the 8b subway stairs, right after a brilliant movie, with a certain mister because I was in pain. All of this gave me brilliant memories and dippy eyes. Those were my salad days of dreams and yesterday, in pain I smiled because, well, because. Thank God for the memories at least!

I could go on rambling. Oh here, I have learnt to eat alone. Finally. Happily? Bleh.

Let us be our own Batman this time. Because, well, because, you don’t have a choice this time.