Who is to blame?

Yesterday I was reading someone’s blog entry and he mentioned himself missing his Grandfather. Felt strange because I was trying to place the feeling to something I would have felt but stopped. I stopped because after a while I was sure that there was nothing in my life that will describe anything that they were feeling.

Then something dawned on me. This has happened to me not once, not twice but many times over. When people speak about their encounters with their grandpa, grandma, uncles, aunts, cousins; I feel at a loss for words and emotions. I look at them, smile and try to find something smart to say but I land up looking stupid with my mouth hanging open half way trying to form words.

Even I want to speak to about a grandma who smiled at me and spoke about the special dish she would make for me. A grandpa who would share with me stories – as old as the furniture that stood in the room he would be sitting. An aunt who would tease me and an uncle who would discuss with me the happiness and plights of the family, ask me about the schools his kids should go to. Cousins I could go out with, know that they would have my back, bring me to a bed when I am too drunk or drag me out when I am feeling just too low. Where are these people in my life? Why are they not in my life? I know of their existence but why is all of this missing? Who is to blame? Why is it so in my life? Are there other people out there who are leading a life like mine cut off from people you could call family.  

Lost people who were dear to me and spent the rest of my past life waiting for people I love. I could do with a few more people who I could relax with, have a conversation. May be what I really want is a failsafe relationship guaranteed by blood to fall back to. But when a relation as close to a brother has come to a naught, where is the assurance of anything staying in life.

I want to go to someone’s house on a summer afternoon unannounced, have lunch at their place while making useless conversation, sleep in their guest room, wake up to the sounds of someone’s house which is not mine, get embraced by the smell of a house familiar but in no sense regular. Will I get any of this? I don’t think so. Just a passing thought. No one to share.

The Driver!!

Of late I have been feeling rather insulted. It is because of me being visualized as/referred to/addressed to as a driver, either consciously or unconsciously. It might seem trivial given the fact that I love driving more than any other activity that might or might not be existent in my life.

Instances like friends (or some people who I thought I could refer to atleast as companions) asked me to come out only because they knew that they would have a trouble free commute made me feel real bad. Then there was an ex to who at the end if I think now, I was just another friend who would pick her up and drop her at her place. Members of the community who would appreciate my availability to my parents as a driver. Parents of friends who call me when they need to be dropped some place because their own kin is busy or is elsewhere slogging away!

The major blow came when the uncle next door wanted to go to an art exhibition. (No disrespect meant, uncle, I am sure you didn’t mean it. This is just what I felt!). As is usually the case, uncle wanted directions and he came to my parents who are ever ready to go all out and help and finally to me for I am always so available (I was working from home). After the directions were given with minisculian details, uncle started dropping hints about how it was hot and how he would have invited my parents to join him if it was otherwise. Now you would think what is wrong in that. Well here is the screwed up part. Uncle and anyone who knows this very nuclear family of mine can blindly say that if Mr. & Mrs. Kundu are venturing to some destination far off or to unknown then Rony is sure to be driving them to it. I felt he just wanted a free ride. This he could have told me and I would have gladly taken him to where he wanted to go but he chose to tread a path which hurt me real bad.

Now I am get very conscious. There is a voice in my head which asks me if the person is asking me to come over and meet him/her only because it is the easiest way to get a chauffeur driven vehicle with no hassle. It has become so much so that I feel that even my parents have started to make plans and ask me if I am free or not later. Yes they are cautious to throw in a line saying – “if you are busy, lets drop it!”. Which rarely happens!

I still love driving but I am starting to love it when I do it alone!!

Who do you speak to?

Today while driving back from work, a sudden thought struck me. You never used to discuss stuff with others that you discussed with me. There were so many things - your boss, your work, your colleagues, you official clients, your brother, your sister, your niece, your cousin, your brother-in-law. That was just people, what about all the things that we spoke about - faith, religion, technology, cartoon, fashion, food, places, sex, colors, people, friends, politics, astrology, books, movies... sights, scenes, smell, sounds!! Do you speak to him about all of that? Does he give you the liberty to express such thoughts? Or do you just shove it deep under the carpets of your mind like you used to when you didn't get me?

i miss your ranting that used to mark the chambers of my car. Going on nonstop and then sometimes going silent to look at something or point something out to me or wait for things to sink into me and for me to give a reaction. Do you get the same attention? Does he care about the details as much as i did? Sometimes i feel i will go insane if i keep thinking about you, but then how can i ignore the good times that we had. So many good days together. Marked with nothing but happy memories and swiftly passing time. i am just sad that it didn't last a lifetime.

"Who do you speak to now, dear?" is all that my mind seeks to find out. Probably i will never find out and like many other questions that i have ever had and will have about you will remain unanswered. There are so many things i want to see how they turned out for you. But even that isn't ever going to happen, is it? Just hope that you are happy. If there is a God, may he bless you with health, prosperity and happiness. Will never forget you. You taught me to love like insane, patience of a sage, pleasures of a this worldly body & topping the list - bearing pain like no other. 

Will never write about you again for it brings back a lot of things and makes me want to write even more about you. But that might disturb you and your life. i care for you too much to do something like that. Just hope that someday we can be good friends and look each other in the eye and share a smile.

how are you

the urge to speak about you is so high, some days. there are things i do and then inadvertently i feel like saying with you i used to do it this way or this is the way it was. we did so much together, that everything i do, somewhere my mind wanders to the time we spent together.
but who do i speak about you to. i don't know a soul in my life who would give a second thought about you. you accompany me as a ghost but some people, well, everyone fails to see it. i am sure everyone, i move with, thinks that i have forgotten about you and that you are just a figure from my past. truth is, i still live in it sometimes. trying really hard not to live in those moments past but then it was my life for a long time and it takes a lot to break away from it.
i am sure that your life, however it might be, must be new and very demanding. you might never read this entry but if you do, know that i wish the best for you and always will. you will remain to be my closest ally and like all those who have walked on, leaving me to tread my own path, you will not be forgotten and time and again during times of anguish and happiness, you shall be thought of and remembered.

The long night

The many ridges and tunnels stand testimony to the agony, pain and labor that were experienced during those cold winter nights of war. Same was the state of my bed with my body being at war with itself. The pain is growing unbearable and my body is not able to take it anymore but I shall not give up. Sometimes I feel as if there is a crack in the skull and if I reached up and touched my head then I would feel the damp of liquids oozing out from deep within.
Woke up with a broken body and a lost mind. The worst combination for a working day. But here I am working it out, not sweating so it doesn’t count I guess. Have a lot to do but my mind says otherwise.