I aint a child anymore. I very well get that. But then, as in everyone’s life, there could be something in mine too, that can bring out a bit of a child in me. It kinda contradicts my own theory that I never felt child enough. Life was always very pragmatic and rational to me. Excuse the past tense. It still is so and will as well continue so. Eventually, I reckon that my losses are something that I lost in the mad rush of articulations. Knowing it to myself, that none was intentional, I assume I can live through the losses. Ironically, despite the whole missing of sweet naughty memories, I do have occasional reminiscences. Of a past that I never had.
My nostalgia and longing have always been mocked upon. I dont blame anyone. Nor am I particularly sad about being laughed at. I honestly understand that all of them have a point. For my nostalgia is ridiculously dwelling on a past that I never had. It’s difficult to fathom and empathise with me. Very so often, I fail at that all by myself. My birth and raising up was completely in a city, that’s continuously pacing to the “Metro” status. My life is pivoted around the city and the normal urban middle class scale. But every time I visit my dad’s native, something changes in me. From my very first visit till the current one,(typing from the very same home’s sit out), I have increasingly fallen for this place and the old ancestral home.I connect perfectly to the village, the temple nearby, the temple pond, the home itself, the extended backyard, the cramped bathroom, the dimly litambiance, the ear-bursting loudspeakers. Not to forget the dusty attic and the rickety ‘monuments’ and the ‘priceless treasure’ that I dig out of them, in every single visit.
I wish I could write more and relate my existence to something worth the survival. But instinctively, I believe that somethings are better unsaid. The aura that this place radiates, is amazing.I am spellbound by it’s charm. I am surprise how I am urged to write about one particular thing. The swing of my life. The only one that I truly admired for its rhythmic oscillations. As I sit on it and rock myself, it feels like the entire world is striving to do away with my sleeplessness and cradle me into a peaceful sound sleep. My swing!
For the first time, there was actually a choice to not rock myself. Somebody else did it for me. I am glad. Blissful.
Update : I guess the reference to the swing was very vague. But have a close look at the image just above this. Its an open gate with another opened gate within it. That’s where I sit and rock! 😛
Preface : https://soumyavg.wordpress.com/2012/01/31/disclaimer/
Me and baby? What relativity eh? Seriously, I’m wondering too. Eventually, it seems like there’s a lot of relativity though. Not that I’ve, out of nowhere, started loving all those ‘cute’ baby photos or all those pink ‘n blue things of life. But things have definitely changed between me and the babies.
My bro always pulls my legs on how I used to check if the diaper is on before getting anywhere near my cousin’s child. I dont think anybody believes him on that now. It seems a near impossibility now coz I’ve gotten that intimate with the kid. Back then, I had told only him about how I used to do that. Nobody else holds a reason to believe it now. I dont even realise how much has change swept over me.
Its a wonderful kid. I cant say the ‘best’ coz I dont know many kids to make a comparison. She’s the only one I’ve ever known. Known the best! Tending to her, reaching out to hold her hand, coaxing her, yelling at her. I’m loving it all. Love the way she calls me ‘athey’. Amazingly, I kinda even miss her when she’s away at her grandma’s. For people who have known the callous me, aren’t these ‘interesting and new’ developments? Lol. Hell they are! And I cant even bring myself upto believing it.
With all the preconceptions of people around me, I’m very much disturbed by their assumptions and notions. Its so much a relief to see her and believe atleast she knows me only the way I’m to her; nice but easily angered. I wish if things could remain that way with her forever. With someone atleast, let me sneak out of all the prejudices. She’s growing, soon losing her innocence. Life and its prejudices aren’t far from her. And I’m worried. Ironically, I crave to see her grow up into a pretty girl, yet staying the apple of everybody’s eyes. She’s one such whom I’ve loved so much that it causes envy. It might even asphyxiate her. Worry gets recursive! (Read the previous post to make some sense of the last sentences)
She’s growing. Already at the computer! Lol.
Taken aghast by the turn of events. So totally shocked to move a limb, raise a thought, utter a word. I’m shivering. Not in the chill. But in the coldness around me.
Changes are what people should be used to and okay with. But then, I aint very happy about the very change. One pushed
after the after, my stack is full. Overflow condition! They are still in stack. Cant execute any of them. Coz none of them gets popped. My top pointer was never incremented. How the heck am I gonna empty my stack and finally ‘accept’ changes!
Ah crap! My programming sucks. I’m ashamed to call it coding. ‘Coding’ sounds techy and geeky. But ‘programming’ is okay for losers like me. There’s always this bug that escapes my eyes. Rather, my skills. It usually is too late before I even acknowledge that the code is erroneous.
What do I do then? What are my options? I cant change a bit. I cant take change a bit. I’m just so fucked by the changes. And the blow, one after the other. Too heavy to be blown away!
Makes you think of the flight class? Well, its not. The single time travel in an aeroplane leaves me with less or no voice to write about ‘Economy class’ travel! I was kid stupefied by the luxury of the inside of a flight. It gave me no room to think of different ‘classes’ of luxury, back then. May be someday, I might actually write on it though! 😛
For now, its about my “economics” lectures at college. More about the lecturer than the lecture itself! One word. Awesome! That’s what she is. But if you ask the college, no one would agree to me. Or may be some crazy streaks like me would agree! She’s not an excellent teacher. She doesn’t teach you a thing, to be frank. She comes. She talks. Rather advises. And somewhere between all the ramblings, there’d be something you’d like to note down as lecture note to push some actual ‘economics’ into your head! Trust me its damn difficult to distinguish them from her ramblings! Her biggest theory, (actually suggested by some Economist I didnt bother to take notice), is something like this. “If one is better, the other is worse.” The theory as such sounds economically normal, doesn’t it? The abnormality strikes when you listen to her switch topics, like you switch browser tabs. No conversation or lecture is ever completed. She talks about the indiscipline in class. And then she says, how one is worse when the other is better! Still confused as in about what’s actually worse!
The other day, a guy walked in by the end of the hour, planning to attend the next hour. And oh my god! This lady invites him and advises him how important attendance is. Eventually, the guy got attendance for that hour and all the previous absences coz of his ‘illness’! (With other teachers, ten min delay => no attendance until you lick her foot! :P)
She knows a lot of things. About Economics, Accountancy, current affairs, University procedures and a lot more. But she still doesn’t know enough! Who would be surprised in a college that teacher is addressed by name? Lol. She will be. Annoyingly surprised and terribly shocked!
With her mannerisms and looks that resemble my much cherished aunt, she makes me glued to her every word and movement. With awe! Her miserable ‘playboy’ mishap, mutually opposing view points, her eccentric poetic recitals, and the brimming genuinness! I’d call her awesome. Miserably awesome! More as a person, than as a teacher.
Just another day. Just another morning. Just another night. Just another feeling. Just another joy. Just another tear. Just another laugh. Just another pass. Just another being. Just another day that I survived. I survived. Just another life. Just another for another?