Amu

The early morning frost
Is settling on leaves, cars, benches
Three trails of airplane-smoke
Shoot across the sky
The smell of hot bread
Wafts out from
A forlorn boulangerie
with its sad Christmas lights...

Streets freshly-washed and
Still-lit by fading streetlamps,
Shops with their shutters down
And people asleep behind
Barely-moving curtains
In the non-wind of a crisp winter morning...

...I reach the metro stop.

A girl in fur boots
Is smoking quietly, tapping her feet
Patiently waiting for no one.
On the platform
A couple slow-waltzes in slow-motion
Against the gaping black background of nothingness.
In '4 minutes' the train arrives
Bearing its load of bodies half-asleep, haggard,
from Saturday-night excesses.
I climb in and melt into the faceless mass
Farida Khanum croons throatily into my earphones
As the train careens screechingly through the endless tunnels
of a Sunday dawn.

I step out at République
Pulling my cap closer around my head
to shield against the cold.
Two vagabonds running up the stairs, laughing,
Turn around and give me a look.
Walking out, a Chinese family
With three squabbling children and a harrowed mother
Are trying to make themselves understood at the guichet.
I see a girl wearing pink lipstick, pink pants and
a smile on her face
heading hopefully for somewhere (someone?) with
a spring in her step.

At the top of the stairs there is
the pale daylight of a hesitant day
The trails of smoke have thickened into wide streaks and
Dame Republic, majestic as ever, has her back turned towards me;
The shutters are being rolled up
Cars roll groaningly by,
And hints of smiles are appearing on people's faces
As Paris awakes.

How much denial it takes to be a grown-up.

Life reminds us all the time, that even the most beautiful things also do come to the end.

And we must accept it.

Nothing, but nothing, is permanent.

In those half-lit moments
Between awakening and consciousness,
I find you.

My train undulates through the indolent European countryside, where houses, cattle and humans dot the landscape in a state of equal inanimated-ness. As if posing for postcards, nothing seems to move - the waters of the lake are still, and the majestic mountains stand tall and silent in the autumn sunlight. 

My train winds through this countryside, swaying to mould itself to the folds of the earth, and, as if with a conscience, slowing down in the most picturesque parts. The blooming vines preen in the slanting rays of the sun, low on the horizon. On my other side, an immense lake sprawls itself to the feet of the snow-capped peaks in the distance. Nothing moves - scared to perturb the heart-stopping beauty of the moment.

I feel myself awake.

going to cherbourg and being with my lover is like a glimpse into perfection, eternity, sunshine, forever, beauty and true happiness.

returning to strasbourg is like a death sentence.

To feel your head repose

Upon my breast

And rise and fall

And rise again

To bury my face

Into your neck

And smell that odour

Distinctly yours

To push my nose

Into the soft duvet

That makes your hair

And know

That beneath, your caramel eyes

Lie half-open

In soft yearning pain

To know that we shall drift apart

And float away

Only to meet again

It is this, the pain

The longing and the desire

Of loving you

And loving you in vain

Because what is love but a thing in vain

A construction rising from the dying synapses

Of our brains?

What is love but a hopeless, despairing

Meeting of souls

In the sweet ecstasy of communion

That does indeed

End before its time?

Is it a crime?

To love you so and know

That if you were ever to go, to leave

To be ill or in despair

That I would suffer interminably

And long

As if a knife were struck into my heart?

Love brings us together

Only to sharpen the awareness

Of being apart

There is no suffering in the world without love

And no love without suffering, my love

I long and suffer hard and long

My heart cries out and can’t withstand

The slight withdrawal of your hand

Or the thought that your gaze might rise

From your enchanted study of my face

To things more sundry and benign

It is this treacherous trap

That Love lays

And we walk obliviously in

Consciously, willingly even

And resigned.

To hold you in my arms

Is to want to possess you

With a desire so sharp it is cruel

And wrong

I want to kiss you

Deep and long

And until the end of time

But such things are not possible on this earth

Because Love descends and weaves her magic

Upon us both,

From another world

Where you and I are forever one

And where the sun always shines.

"For obligation is the worst thing in the world, the freedom we deny ourselves." - Jose Saramago, in "The Year of the Death of Ricardo Reis"

I have been thinking a lot lately. That is the thing I hate about solitude, it forces you to listen to your own thoughts. Wherever you go, there you are, following yourself, thinking. It's exhausting. Even though I'm not one of those people whose mind is constantly active with thoughts. Still!

Anyway, so since I've been here I've seen my relationship in a whole new light. And frankly, it terrifies me. It terrifies me how much I can love a person, and how much I will have to compromise to be with him, because I want to be with him, and I love him. But what becomes of me, then? What of me and my life?

Actually the thing that scares me is a trait in my own character, whereby when I love a person, I give them all of me, every little bit. It's scary because if the relationship then breaks, I have a hard time recovering myself...scraping those pieces back and building me again. The other thing is dependence, and that is such a horrible horrible thing about love. Why can't we love freely, with no bonds no ties no obligations? Like many other people, I never feel suffocated in a relationship, because I am just not an independent person by nature. I can manage alone, but I don't like it. I am infinitely happier in a couple, having somebody to lean on, somebody to turn to for advice, somebody to talk to when there is something important to say, or nothing at all. And this is what creates dependence. And it's a vile, evil thing. But I can't do it any other way.

This makes me sad :-(

So it finally happened. Not as melodramatic as the title of this post suggests, but it did happen nevertheless.

So after an evening of shopping for clothes I have never had to wear in my life due to the mildness (non-existence) of Mumbai's winters, I came home feeling, umm, weird. My desk, my curpboard and my wardrobe have all been emptied, cleared out and contents to be taken with me dumped into one very overflowing suitcase.

I have been suffering from insomnia recently (which ironically leads to incredible sleepiness and fatigue) and so when I got into bed with my blanket and bear at 3 am, I wasn't surprised that I was feeling awake. My head nowadays though is a frustrating buzz of static, so that I can't hold a single thought for more than a micro-second, trails of thought get interrupted and many languages vie for attention in my brain. I am tired.

Somehow, last night, though, I managed to cling on to one thought and try and follow it through. I had my eyes fixed on this Nivea Deo bottle on the shelf above my bed, and suddenly an overwhelming feeling of sorrow came over me. When I asked myself why, I realised it's because I will never look at this bottle, this shelf this room the way it is again, I will never feel so comfortable and rooted anymore. This is the room I grew up in as a little girl, and when I come back to it, I won't be one anymore.

But that is not all. It is not just that I am leaving this room, I am leaving my childhood. I am leaving my parents' house to make my life somewhere else. I will never be as well looked after. From now on nobody will cook and clean for me everyday, sing me to sleep while running their fingers through my hair, take care of me when I am sick, worry about me when I'm out late, bug me about this or that or the other, tell me what to do, tell me how to do it.

Yeah, I know, for the last year, I have been hankering and craving for the very independence I am dreading so much now. And I guess that still holds good, but now that it is so close, I know that once I cross over the line to the other side, there is no coming back.

From now on, I will pay my own bills, take my own decisions, buy and cook my own food, date whoever I want, do whatever I like. I will be responsible for my own health and well-being. It's a scary, scary thing, because as long as somebody else is responsible for you, you have someone to blame, something to rebel against. Now that I have what I want, I'm not so sure I want it.

And that's unfortunately the way the cookie crumbles.

Life is such a hard, hard thing.

This whole process is so emotionally exerting, i don't know what to make of it.

First, leaving my job. My first ever one. As the day approached, actually, I was looking forward to it. I had had enough, the place was getting to me. But in the end little things managed to bothered me nevertheless. Knowing I'd never come back to work at MDL, never have Uday ke haath ka chai, probably never work in such an informal fun atmosphere again, returning my belongings, esp my phone - it was all very very hard. I have been crying, not crying like I did all of last month, but a few silent tears from time to time - tears of quiet farewell, of acceptance - not of fear.

My farewell party was just beautiful. Everybody was so nice, and the gifts - I will treasure them...

Saying goodbye to my brother, welcoming and then saying goodbye to my uncle, welcoming and then saying goodbye to david - all this has made me see the airport one too many times in the last month. But it has also steeled me for going, I don't feel as daunted by it anymore...

...I've decided that there's no time to be afraid anymore. Only time to go through my things, my life's collection, go through and flush out the old....clear out space to bring in my new life, new memories.

I am not afraid anymore. I am just wondering how much of these last 21 years will fit in 2 suitcases.