Have you ever travelled to a place, sans a return ticket? Wanted to leave out the rush of getting back on time? Quit sticking expiry date labels on your memories? Feel free, somehow? As if time was on your side. As I prepare to leave Delhi, shrouded in an impenetrable winter mist in a few days from now...I nurse a fleeting bittersweetness, inside. I wonder if I am too late? If going home will mean as much, this time around? Most of my friends having moved out. I question myself if I will get bored easily, after the usual parties and weddings culminate, after the routine fare of Bong films to be watched and new restaurants to be explored, are devoured, after Arselan, Mocambo and Peter Cat, post Mangaladis routine rosun tel malish and her elaborate lunch menus begin to run out, after those visiting are back to where they belong.... I am nervous. Its the first time in 14 years that I tell myself Ill stay for as long as I want. The frills of being self employed. Reminding myself that I used to live there once. I want to know I can belong. I want answers. I want to stare at the ruins of my ancestral house now razed to the ground, I want to take a lazy boat ride along the Ganges at dusk, as lovers lock lips, to buy second hand books from College Street, to stand in front of my school church, to slowly sip tea at Flurys, tracing the movement of frenzied evening traffic, till my eyes tire. I want to roam aimlessly in New Market, without buying a thing, cook Mammas old recipes from her discolored leather diary, I want to sit facing the fierce winter Sun, reading Joy Goswami and Gangopadhyay. In my own tongue. I want to finish my edits on Youve Got The Wrong Girl. And start Rahula. Book 5. In the city of my birth. I want to love you, sans the guilt of having to say goodbye. To lie still in your arms. Sans words. To be able to remember what it was like... Kolkata. 2015....
Posted on: Sun, 21 Dec 2014 15:41:26 +0000
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