Just the other day
You had your sky blue crayon phase.
Paint, was all you did
Paint, was all that made sense.
The many afternoon shine
Even more night time glaze
The many sea shores
Even more snow flakes
Just the other day
You had your sky blue crayon phase.
-Abhishikta
Very recently Oreo introduced me to 'Tumhari Amrita' and as Toastmasters, we are shamelessly inspired by everything beautiful.
Hence, there is our flawed attempt at flawed love.
With Love!
Happy Adult Valentines' you :)
Dear Diary,
College starts tomorrow. I hope my decision to stay back in India for Undergrad, going against Dad’s wish was right.
Dear Diary,
What is wrong with the world? I saw a fresh batch of 1st years come to the college today. Everyone thinks about the US, everyone wants to earn money. Noone thinks about art or literature, or politics of this country. Am I born too late in time?
Dear Diary,
College is going great! I met a group of techno grads working for Robotic Modelling.
Our Seminar was hugely disturbed today by a group of Art Students shouting at the top of their voices, protesting against some political dysfunctionality. I hope they let us work in peace tomorrow.
Dear Diary,
I have decided to lead the political group of University, these people are directionless and naive. It deeply hurts my soul that other departments are not even bothered about the initiatives.
Dear Diary,
Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I will make friends with Ankur. He leads the Communist group of the University, the typical 'arty' type. Takes immense pride about his unkempt beard, baggy kurta, perennially borrowed cigarettes. He speaks of communism, ideologies and literature. No dreams, no ambition, just a blurry vision of tomorrow. But this blurry vision makes me want to believe him. He moves around the campus with a note of ten rupees inside his worn out wallet.
Dear Diary,
Is it allowed for the 3rd world to fall in love with the 1st? I look at the Kohl in Amrita’s eyes and instantly want to keep looking at it till the end of time. She is smart and funny. In my black and white world of constant fight between right and wrong, she is my sunshine. I am scared of what lies ahead.
Dear Diary,
My dad caught me staring at Ankur’s photo today. I could not dare tell him that he is not from the same department. Why did I lie?
Dear Diary,
It’s been a week that I have not seen Amrita around. Did she miss her classes or was I too busy in my own world that I missed seeing her? Is she ignoring me or the walls of my existence are too tough to cross? Will I see her again?
Dear Diary,
Ankur read a poem to me today from his brown Diary.
I was lost in his voice, his eyes. There was a certain sadness in the way he spoke.
Dear Diary,
I got a full scholarship for pursuing a PHD in Stockholm. Who would have thought that someone following and pursuing Indian politics so passionately would also be acknowledged outside? But I am in two minds. I have no intent to go abroad leaving so much behind but how would I compensate for the status Amrita deserves, her family expects? She has been raised as a princess, the lady who deserves nothing less than a diamond, how would she ever cope with the dark in me?
Dear Diary,
Today was the most magical birthday of my life. While everyone surrounded me with gifts, gold and diamonds, Ankur took me to one corner of the room, with a finger, he took one drop of water from a glass and placed that drop on my ring finger! This has been the most memorable gesture that anyone has ever done for me. I love him!
Dear Diary,
I love Amrita. Today, on her birthday, she looked like magic. While she was laden with gifts all around, I had nothing but myself to offer. Even then, her eyes danced and smile brightened the entire room. Should I really go to Stockholm to provide the life that Amrita deserves? But then, what happens to so many lives I have been leading? Is love enough to over power all other human emotions?
Dear Diary,
While I was discussing how my Dad can easily sponsor for my masters in Stockholm while Ankur does his PHD, he looked quite absent. Here I am already making plans for a future together but he seems to be lost.
Dear Diary,
I thought about it a lot. I cannot leave India. I expect Amrita to understand, she can do her masters from India too, there are so many good universities. Even if she wishes to go to Stockholm, I can wait for 2 years till she is back. I am rejecting the scholarship offer. I hope Amrita will understand.
Dear Diary,
How can he decide to not go to Stockholm without discussing with me like I am noone to him. When he kissed me for the first time and called me his world, what did he mean then? Probably Dad was right. Ankur has no dreams, no ambition, just a blurry vision of tomorrow.
Dear Diary,
Amrita left for Stockholm today. She did not say Goodbye. She returned the Shiuli flower, the only gift that I was capable of giving her once. When I last saw her in the University campus the day after I told her I was not moving to Stockholm she did not fight, she did not smile, she just stared, stared and walked away. The same Kohl lined beautiful eyed girl, she looked like she had grown up overnight.
Sigh
Dear Diary,
It’s been 10 years. Never spoke to you, never looked back but today something happened. Today I got promoted as the Managing Director but there was no one I could share my happiness with. I spent an entire decade working so hard that I left relationships behind. Is this the tomorrow I wanted? Have I become the person that I always accused Ankur of? No dreams, no ambition, just a blurry vision of tomorrow?
Dear Diary,
It’s been 10 years, I have become the person I always wanted to be. Teaching young students, weaving dreams. I wonder how Amrita is? She must have become a mother now, someone’s wife, someone’s reason to be happy every day. Does she still remember me? Because I do; every time the Calcutta winter wind sweeps past my Kurta I remember Amrita, every time the aroma of Shiuli fills my room full of books I remember Amrita, everytime I breathe, I remember Amrita. Hope she forgives me someday.
Dear Diary,
Do you think Ankur remembers me still? Has he forgiven me? Maybe he has not changed one bit. Or maybe he has. Maybe he has a beautiful wife to share his latest poems with, maybe a daughter, he is teaching the lessons of Feminism to. A thought crosses my mind everyday, to meet him once, to see him once, to say Goodbye, properly this time? Should I book my flight?
Dear Diary,
With the corruption that does not leave our society, at all times I feel my decision to stay back was right. The oil prices are over the roof, the unemployment does not seem to go, last heard, the midday meals of the children were misutilised. I am waiting for one day when I wake up to hear good news.
Dear Diary,
Late to tell you but I am on my flight to India. Is it too late? Has the scars of time rusted the feelings? I love Ankur, I still do. Do you think I would get a chance to tell him in this life ever again?
The storm in my heart seems to be manifested around me. There is a strong turbulence outside.
Dear Diary,
Again woke up to the news of a Europe to India flight getting crashed yesterday. At times I feel happy with the knowledge that Amrita is far and safe from all of this. At times I wonder how our life could have been?
Dear Diary,
It’s been 30 years. Amrita must be 60 now. I am old too. My old age and half rimmed glasses are a testimony that one life is not enough for love. My health has started to show its colors of Winter. Winters when you are 20 are different from the winter of 60. Now, it is cold, just cold.
Dear Diary,
It’s been 40 years. Words have started to fail me. Only one feeling remains… love.
I love Amrita, I still do. Do you think I would get a chance to tell her in this life ever again?
Sigh…
Are always sleepless and sad. But these days it's a choice, not office mandate.
Aaro lafiye lafiye biye korte bolo, I told Maa, who is confident S can manage a few more days in Bangalore while I'm here.
Ofcourse he can, but then, to live in two parallel boats is not something I'm used to too. It is seeming like a choice. This or that. What what whaaaat!
Oh the dilemma.
Oh Calcutta!
Give both of us rich jobs will you? Pretty Please.
