Outside the Blue Window

I was introduced to the corporate world at a time when I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life. I went to an engineering college like everyone else did and then entered the software industry like everyone else did. I used to wonder why I would have to do what everyone else does, but never had the courage to revolt against…maybe I should say…myself.

It’s been a year and a half now and I see how much I have changed. I see the pros and cons of this ‘not so new’ life. One small walk from my office to home gives me glimpses of moments which so significantly define what I have now become. This short journey is an amalgamation of emotions and dreams.

As I step out of the building at 8 in the evening and feel the first few gusts of light wind against my face, it’s a relief. A relief from the artificial air I was breathing. My first gaze goes to the sky in search of the moon. I don’t know what it is about it that brings some calmness inside me. I feel like I could stare at it for hours together. Well, there are hardly any stars out there. I remember seeing stars in Aizawl or rather the way I love to call the place with its age-old name- the Lushai Hills. I never realized then how much I would miss watching the clouds sitting on hilltops from my school terrace. The best view in my memory is from my house- the crimson and yellow hue of the sun setting between two hills. God, I don’t know where I lost all of that!

Look how I got deviated from the main topic. When it comes to remembering the hills, I can go on and on about it. But for now, let’s get real. Yes, the moon. If I see it, my stare lingers on for a few moments and then I move on with the reflection of the neon lights on blue glass panes behind me. I suddenly realize the exhaustion the day’s work has brought over me. I look around and see a bit of myself everywhere- people with ID cards hanging around their necks, discussing about some seemingly serious matter. I see the same weariness on their faces.

As I descend towards the footpath, I wonder what I should be doing tonight. I do have the options- reading my novel, watching TV, browsing the internet, practicing guitar (I usually never go for this option, it is still lying as a showpiece in my room) etc. I wish my room-mate is home. I don’t like entering an empty house.

I have this habit of looking at my feet while walking (I have a notion that my feet are pretty, maybe that’s why!) and sometimes wonder if I wore the right sandals or shoes today. The cars and two wheelers are rushing past me. I see a few smokers sitting and chatting. Everyone else is in a hurry to go home at this time of the day. A few security guards are strolling around lazily. Another common sight is to see an old couple walking together, probably taking an after-dinner walk. They seem to be at peace with their lives. When am I going to get that? Then I tell myself- c’mon, it has just been a year and a half. You have a long way to go!

I have been living in this city since I joined this job and yet it seems unfamiliar to me in so many ways. Yes I managed to make few friends in office, but they are slowly moving away. Change is the ultimate truth of life. Everyone does it. Should I? My newly found best friends have already moved on. But where do I move to? What am I in search of?

I rush through my phonebook and search for someone to talk to. After browsing for a while, I realize that I have recently spoken to everyone worth speaking to. The same old questions like “what’s up” and “how are you” get boring after a while. It’s different if they are in the same city though. Just sitting with a friend over a cup of coffee with few words exchanged makes you feel better, and more importantly, doesn’t make you feel alone. You wouldn’t realize it if you have someone with you always. As the popular saying goes- “distance makes the heart fonder”, it’s the absence that signifies the vital role of a friend in your life.

I’m almost home, and as another two-wheeler passes by, I wonder if I’m going to get one of those for myself. My parents keep listing out the reasons why I shouldn’t get one. Will there be a day when I’ll actually do something out of instinct without even thinking what lies ahead? Or will I just keep dreaming about such a day. I know that getting a two-wheeler doesn’t quite fall in that category, but for me, at least that’s a start!

I’m home finally, and the big question of ‘what to do’ comes back. If the house isn’t empty, I don’t have much to think of. But if it is, what’s the fun of sitting in front of the Idiot Box without commenting about some funny ad or discussing about Hollywood movies (which by the way, I’m very poor at). What’s the fun of eating alone or opening the laptop and searching for few friends to come online, looking at the same old Orkut and Facebook. Maybe we live in a digital age, but true happiness comes from the life that surrounds you. Wherever you go, you yearn for it.

As I drop my purse and ID card on the table, a sudden feeling of emptiness grabs me from inside. I don’t know what I’m doing here, away from my family and friends. I stare at the guitar. My mind is too tired to gather enough determination to pick it up and pull the strings. Music, the only thing that stirs my soul is also not able to draw me towards itself. The question of ‘what to do’ is raised for the 3rd time and now I’m least bothered to think about it.

Sounds familiar? I know that this is pretty much the life of every software professional around me. Someone had once told me- “Why live the life someone has already lived? Try doing something new!” How many people have the guts to do something new? Don’t we love the money and the comforts we can buy with it? Well I guess I do. That’s why I’m still here. But I hate this emptiness which comes and goes. It kills me.

A Tribute to Aita(My Grandma)

The early morning radio, the smell of UE cream- this is what used to wake me when I was in Nagaon. Aita would be sitting in front of the dressing table (which I always fancied) and getting ready for the day. With the same set of mekhala chaddars I have seen her wearing since I know of and the red sindoor heavily decorating the centre parting of her hair accompanied by the huge red bindi on her forehead. Yes, that was the perfect morning for me. The morning I had seen for at least 12-15 years during my winter vacations.

It was a rare sight to see her inactive. She used to be walking around doing something or the other except when she was taking her afternoon nap. I used to wonder how anyone could work so much with a hot water bag tied to her waist. Her daily regime would comprise of cooking, monitoring work, shopping and of course, speaking at the top of her voice! I don’t think anyone could ever miss that.

She is the best cook in the world. She always had a stock of aachaar, laddoos and pithas ready for us. And she made sure we never ran out of them! I would see her sitting and instructing people to shape the laddoos round in the right manner.

Whenever I entered Nagaon, the feel of being there wouldn’t strike me until I entered her room- the tick-tock sound of the grandfather clock, the familiar aroma which I could sense around her and of course, the dressing table as I mentioned before. I had explored every nook and corner of it. Be it the assorted collection of cosmetics or supari and saunf, I knew it all.

As a kid, the most common ventures with her would be shopping in the vegetable market or visiting a wedding reception. She’d have a mouthful of paan, a leather purse in her hand, all set to go! I have never seen her let go of a single potato without a bargain. As for weddings, that used to be one treat for us! I, my brother and my cousins would get ready with full enthusiasm. I cannot forget how we cousins used to pack a handful of flavoured saunf in our handkerchiefs and come home very proudly displaying the amount each one got. I remember the fairy tales she used to tell me. Sometimes I’d keep her awake for hours at night just because I wanted to hear more.

I celebrated most of my first 13 birthdays in Nagaon. Her mouth never ceased to bless me or pray for me. I used to be her Rani Suna (Darling Queen). I always enjoyed the privilege of being the favorite grandchild because I was her first. The last time I sat with her in the courtyard this May, I remember her telling me how to make a simple lemon achar which cures digestion. Out of the many things she has told me, that is something I will never forget. In spite of being so sick in her last days, I would see her wearing a different design of gold jewellery. Every design was distinct. I couldn’t help admiring her taste. The piece of jewellery I have with me now and cherish having is my silver payal which she had given me few years back. It is just like her- simple yet beautiful.

It’s only while writing the above lines that I realize she is gone. I can’t believe that the familiar voice which used to welcome me to my hometown will no longer be there when I step inside that house. I can’t believe there actually exists an illness which forced her to lie in bed day and night. Today, I remember the times I argued with her. I hope she has forgiven me for all that I might have done to hurt her. Right now, I can only believe that she has gone to a better place…that God has put an end to all her sufferings and he is keeping her safe in his arms.