Trying my hand at prose this time….I always prefer poetry though!
Sitting in my new office! Cell phones burping around, the aalo paratha’s I had for lunch (poor things were denied of aalo), the quite and dedicated team I work with (so unlike my gang of M2W going berserk over possibly everything) and a steaming hot cup of coffee (the only solace I have in this place where AC’s seem to give away everything they have). I see my reflection on the computer screen and the new look with my straightened hair makes me feel so good about myself. The way these Bangalore saloons have messed up my hair, the feeling of having a good hair style is really pleasurable. Many things running at the back of my mind…were the aalo paratha’s I ate stale? My marriage certificate is not ready and creating a bank account seems next to impossible (at the end of the day money matters boss…big time) Worries, anxiety, excitement, apprehensions, satisfaction…all emotions clutter one after the other. So many things are new, so many experiences too. He is the only source that keeps me going. No matter it’s the fuckin traffic of Bangalore (even more worse for the loser that I am when it comes to directions), be it language problem in this claustrophobic city where people just go on blabbering something like there is no end to their talk in some alien language that sounds pathetic (I always feel they are abusing me) or be it the simple day to day stuff like cooking (my sweetheart has hired a cook) and cleaning. He is one person I can crib to, beg, borrow, steal, plead, cry, play, cheer, irritate….(I can list down almost all the verbs in the grammar book). Hey that makes my mind think of a creative one liner “A perfect relationship is when you find a person with whom you can relate each verb of the grammar book” Shit man!!! How the hell on earth can someone be so creative? Newayz but the feeling of creativity makes me feel lost by the end of it. So what was I talking about? Was it my work, or Bangalore, or Him? Well now that I am lost let me take the liberty of going with the topic I like the most. Him. There’s nothing much to talk about him. No honestly, he is a simple guy, very simple and uncomplicated. Guess the two words mean the same but that’s what I was longing for. His uncomplicatedness fascinates me. He says there is no shade of grey in his life. Things for him are either black or white. But sometimes I feel that categorizing things into black and white can make life so colorful. He knows what and how he wants things to be and to go. Being with someone so clear in mind makes me feel at home. I still haven’t reached the definition of the love crap but if its comfort then let me too join the gang of clichéd mutterers chirping “I am in love” Its just comfort. I know he has the answers to my questions (though he keeps confusing me every now and then) or even if he can’t answer them. I know he will guide me through the way. The brat that I have been after getting married. Hats off to this boy who has managed to cope up quiet well with my tantrums and mood swings.
What’s wrong with me ya? After marriage the only thing I reach to is him. Have I joined the gang of boring housewives? Agreed he means a lot to me and staying with him day in and day out is the mere reason for this but honestly somehow I don’t miss anyone. Mom, relatives (I never missed them), friends (that’s strange). It might be because this relationship is new to me and I am enjoying it thoroughly but still. Life can’t revolve around just one person. Actually it does. And it really doesn’t depend on the intensity of the relationship. Its just getting fond of someone. In Mumbai I was fond of M2W, ishneet, mahrukh and I could talk about them forever, now I am fond of him and can go on and on about him. Might sound weird but that’s what happens to all of us.
A page typed with matter that makes no sense. Probably this is the only meaningful thing in my life. Like Jimmy Shergil rightly said in “Strangers” Writing is like shitting. It’s like removing all that’s stuck in your brain and feeling so much better and relieved. I was feeling emotionally constipated and this release is surely a help. After all this nonsensical crap another piece of shit in a poetic version. I wrote this on the 2nd of April…My first fuckin day at the office
The first day of my office I say
I wish from my memory I could throw away
No work to do, no friends to talk,
Being conscious when you stand or walk
Sitting on that empty table alone
Staring at others busy and unknown
Suddenly someone calls your name
And asks you a question stupid and lame
Yet somehow it adds to your delight
And for a moment takes away your fright
People seem to be terribly busy
And you are sitting in the crowd like crazy
Someone is shouting someone cribbing on phone
It’s just you who is glued to the mute zone
The ticking of watch is the only solace
Even time seems to lose its pace
Its one day of life I hated the most
Amongst the crowd, kept feeling like a ghost!!!
Phew….
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