...just
wanted to show off the efforts, while it was not required, the effort of
walking while I could take transport...of taking a longer route as usual just
to get some whiff of the same lane ,as I knew , she would have passed a few
hours back on her way back to her home from her office. The effort of counting
the metres and
steps....10000, 20000...maybe I was trying too hard to count while I was
keeping away her thoughts from just entering my screwed head...I know it sounds
crazy...and makes no sense at all. But am sure, there are times when you just
do not go by normal logic, or rather logic of so called civilised
folks… where things and actions are expected to be
just...backed by thoughts and logic. For me, thinking without those seemed like
a break to me. There is a pressure of behaving and thinking the right way. It
gave me the freedom of looking at the so called normal routines from a
different angle and made me wonder, what if, this was done that way and that
was done this way...a random way…
a way it’s not expected to be done. I was walking,
and of course taking pride in what I thought about it. I used to feel a sense
of relief whenever I saw myself doing something like this, I would break into a
smile and a song...and feel my moment of bliss just like that.
It
was a little different now, in my mind I was anxious about something or rather
someone. To be specific , it was the unknown part , of what was coming next
that was keeping me anxious. But why was I so bothered?
There
I was pondering over my next step...of going to her again in last two days...or
to just consider if she will just find my excesses...the devil said don’t while
my saint self kept mum. I felt me looking intently at myself. This would be as
if I stood somewhere...and statue!! I come out of me and have a look at
self...!! It was in some music video I had seen sometime...and I had thought
wow!! This could mean absolute crap to somebody...but to me...it was meaningful.. as if
you get a chance to have a good look at yourself...your thoughts...like from
someone else’s perspective.
It may be absurd...but then everything needn’t
mean sense. It was as if to look
judgmentally to pass a verdict on the actions I had taken.
This would happen often and seemed at my will..anytime..anyplace...any situation. But frankly...I hated
it if I found someone judging me. I felt, judging someone for one action may be
so wrong to judge a person...there are so many facets ...so many things that
someone does.
The
turmoil, the drops of sweat felt like a strange mix...with none really
mixing... somehow I felt that she will just notice...and I’ll see
the look of...oh really u did it all for me...!!?? ...and then a weird look of
why??...and at once I knew how stupid I would feel. Maybe I won’t tell her ...I
won’t actually...and would just see her with a straight face...as if it doesn’t really
matter...and that I was just passing...just like that...so believable!! ;)
Would she find out the age old stale excuse that was on offer and find
out...what if she did? what if she didn’t?...chances were...that she will not even
care...and me...oh..I don’t
care too....
I
stood at the bridge looking at the river, with the noise in the background just
about at a normal level of peace...the buzz, the horns...all seemed part of the
peace that I was looking for. The setting seemed as if it had happened before,
as if I had stood here long back , not once but so many times, maybe in a dream
or some parts in some dreams. I could not recollect me at this place standing
like this ever...it felt surreal...but there was a connect...a feeling of
oneness and solidarity with the passing things...views...the river...what was
going on? A lot actually and I wondered if this happens
to others or only to blessed ones like me, who are stranded at different parts
of the world standing near rivers doing nothing but to see the traffic and the
river going by, don’t know. I was a bit down for many things...work...over
expectant bosses...artificial people...their behaviours....Rina...a possible transfer...longing to go
home...small small things ma would tell me about day to day
home affairs... Cheer up dude!! Get a date!!
I
decided to call her and ask her out. It sounded simple and straightforward. We
had met outside before , though in company of common friends and saw it quite
ok to ask if she was free for a coffee. Now these are things that I really feel..however passé..will remain. Tink tonk tink...that caller tune...pick up after this
line...
hello
Srijoy...
hi
Rina...what`s up? Reached home? Doing
something?
..yes...reached..nothing much...why?
Meet
for a coffee?
Ummm...ok..where? Can’t
go out for long.
Take
a pick...your choice...the CCD near your place at 7?
Ok...see
u!!
I
shut my phone and did a goal scorer-wicket taker action. I felt nice. I smiled.
I dreamt. I tripped.
Rina had never ever passed on any hint that
there was more...she was good to me alright...but maybe I had taken more out of
it. I was at the juncture of being almost thrown off from the job...they needed
results...not a person who just rants and tries to look smart...but works
smart...I could go off to another city....but she is not the one holding all my
thoughts...rather...I’ve a lot to ponder on... I think I need to
buck up a little. For now, the coffee better make me talk, for good.gb
The
river was ,not being dramatic, in a way telling me to drop my inhibitions about
what I was and what would people perceive me as...as if saying ..chill ...be
your own, does it know what it is to be on your own? Maybe yes, or maybe no...I
so engrossed in the flow that I wished as if it was someone I could talk to and
maybe share something...it was kind of a rare soothing moment , rare indeed,
the blowing wind , the dusty rails, the hawkers, their noise, their lives and I
was suddenly a part of all this....my distant stare into oblivion and the
feeling that there are greater messages around. It’s
just when and how we find them, or they
find us. I just knew something was taking shape...and I had to listen to myself
to take it forward.
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Story by +DIGBIJAY BANERJEE for Jhaalmuri Winter Special
Read the magazine here http://issuu.com/suparnachakraborti/docs/jhaalmuriwinterspecial2015
Previous Works by the author
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