They were right, the cloud did have a silver lining... (Part 1)

Its no secret that this place depresses me horribly. Its no secret that I wish I was anywhere but here. But then sometimes things happen that brings a smile to my lips and warms my heart and then I get the rare feeling of being wanted again. Here are a few examples of few recent things I can remember.

1. One random day I was as usual wasting my afternoon on facebook when Jyothsni pinged me to tell me there was food in her room, I could come if I wanted to. I had already had lunched. but the simple gesture of asking me touched me so much that I went immediately. The food was extremely yummy. Prawns and mutton and biriyani and sweets and cake. But more than the flavour of the food, it was the invitation that left a great aftertaste..

2. It was placement week. Day zero morning. I was scared stiff. Very very nervous. The nervousness kept increasing exponentially as I kept getting rejected by company after company. I was waiting for my 4th company of the morning and my 6th interview overall when I saw Chandan standing under the balcony. He asked how it had gone. I told him rejected. He just smiled and mouthed keep faith, things will work out. 3 interviews later I was selected by that same company.

3. I was feeling really low and suffocated in college. I wanted a break, wanted to leave. That's when Gaju called. He wanted to know if I wanted to meet him for a drink and dinner. I couldn't have said no. I didn't want to. Time flew. I was with him for 4 hours. Nothing like good food, good drinks and good company to improve my mood.

4. I was again, as usual, playing through Farmville. Total time waste, I agree. But at least gives me something to do. This is when Anuj's chat message popped up. He was alone in his flat in Gurgaon, on a Friday evening, drinking. It somehow felt great talking to him. I could sense that once in a while he does miss me. Made me feel wanted.

5. I had called Arinnjay to wish him happy birthday. In the conversation it came up that he'll be in Kolkata from the 10th of December where as I am landing on the 13th. The happiness in his voice to hear he'll be meeting me again was a serious ego boost.

6. Every time a case competition comes up, Kari, Birla and I just know that we're participating, time and resources permitting. This comfort level, trust and compatibility is a great take away for me from this place.

7. Purna mailed me to tell me about this sudden urge to meet me after college one day, although she is hundreds of miles away from me. Things like this make you go mushy.

8. It was a presentation and I had worked hard for it. It was different from the usual presentations and I was worried about pulling it off. Just before going up to the front of the class I received a message. It simply said, "Best of luck eye!!!". It was BP.

9. Very often I have felt out of place and on the fringes of a group. Very often I've had the feeling of being there but not belonging. One person who really tries to change that for me is Karan. There is no particular moment to recollect, but he gives me this nice and happy feeling.

10. I was mad at the world and screaming bloody murder. Ronald happened to call me at the exact same moment. I was screaming the roof down into the phone and he tried to reason with me. I ended up abusing him pretty bad. Although he hung up on me then, he realised I was upset and called me back not only to make amends but also cheer me up.

A lot of other things happen daily, a lot of people play their part. Writing about them all would have taken me days. This is just a snapshot of ten things in the recent past of about one month that have made me smile when I was very upset.

The recall factor of colours

""Whenever you see colours, think of us"

This is the tag line of a very famous paint company. This paint company, or its branding agency, gt its game right when they came up with this tag line. The reason I say so is because there is a very high recall factor with colour. I mean, we very often associate different colours with different things- people, moods, places, objects, etc etc etc... And this works both ways. For example, when I say blue I can only think of Mercure. This night club in Bangalore is bathed blue lights and some videos we took there when we went there recently are blue films in the literal sense (of course the subject matter of these videos were questionable too). Ofcourse, there are times when blue remind me of Lara Dutta in a bikini, diving deep below the sea, but that's more phonetically blue than visually blue.
In the same way, when I think of Monsoon in West Bengal, I can only think of green. The dust washed away by the rain brings forth the green-ness of the trees. The earth seems refreshed, it seems rejuvenated, alive.
And then there is this dirty, bottle green which will always remind me of Purna's kurta. It somehow defined her for me.
Another very strong recall factor for me is the colour pink. It gives me comfort. I've always known that pink is a very comfortable colour. I just didn't know why. Now I think I do. Pink was the colour of the walls of my bedroom as I grew up. Infact not just the walls, the book case, the curtains, some of the bed sheets, my pillow covers, the mosquito net, even the all-out that was plugged in my room was pink. And I never even liked the colour that much!!! But pink will remain the colour of relaxation.
Similarly, brown is the colour of the soil in shantiniketan. Considering the fact I've been there only twice, and once when I was very small, I didn't think it would have that profound an effect. But somehow it does. I believe it is because of the excessive use of "laal maati" in bengali prose and poetry and my mother's incessant chanting of the above mentioned literary works. So when you actually go there and see everything (and I mean everything, from trees to cars and houses, even roadside animals) covered with the fine red dust, you immediately recollect those words written and there is an instant recall.
For me black is the colour of the darkness. Black is the colour I remember from my early days in Chandipur where there was no electricity and the evenings were spent by candle light. When we sat out in the veranda and looked beyond the boundaries, all I could see was black, interspersed with the intermittently glowing dots of the firefly.
There are three other colours that I remember from Chandipur. The first is the orange of the "kumro phool" or pumpkin flower that I got everyday from my neighbours house, which my mother then fried in batter and I relished. The second was the green of my mother's sari this one night she locked me in the room and left on an urgent night call. That time we stayed alone, just the two of us. That green pattern of the sari that reminded me of chillies, when she finally came back after me having shouted myself hoarse and cried myself dry will always stand for anger and fear and finally relief. And thirdly, I remember vividly the red of the knicker I wore as I ran around playing on the fields as a care free two year old
Red also reminds me of the blood on a mother and daughter that my mother accidentally hit while driving, as they were taken into the car and driven to the nearest hospital. That red I saw as a 2-3 year old is a terrifying memory very difficult to put past.
And finally, a navy blue reminds me of this beautiful full moon night where our car went driving through the deserted roads of the countryside. Noone spoke a word and the silence was comforting. Outside there was hardly any trees. There was one gnarled tree looking silver against the shadowy landscape. That night somehow sums up all things nice for me- be it due to the comfort of the company or the sheer beauty of the sight. That dark blue and silver always puts in perspective by reminding me of something that is timeless.

*I acknowledge Purna Banerjee as an inspiration for this prose. This idea is adapted from a beautiful piece of writing she had produced many winters back, thus impressing me thoroughly.

Living Like An Island

I live like an island.

A part of an archipelago, a group, a band.

I can see others around me.

But nevertheless an island I am to be.

I was 7 when as a good student in a religious Catholic School I learnt that hymn...

"No man can live as an island,

Journey through life alone"

At 7 I didn't know what it meant. Its catchy tune just made it a fun song to sing along.

Old Habits Die Hard. Even at 15 I sang it as I did when I was 7. I never thought what it meant. It was only when I left the comforts of my childhood school to join a new one that I felt the meaning. Leaving the warmth of a place I had known for the last 11 years, next only to home, was not easy. Leaving a place where everyone knew me, called out to me, smiled at me and talked to me was not easy. Leaving a place where I was a somebody for a place where I was but a name on the rolls was not easy. I walked the corridors of my new school as a nobody. I was desperately lonely. People looked through me. They didn't talk to me. They didn't even realise I existed. On one such occasion, at a morning assembly, that fateful hymn came up again. That day, at 15, for the first time I heard what I sang. I stifled my tears.

I did make friends eventually. But it took me almost a year. And till then, I spent a whole year being an island. I did everything on my own. I wasn't happy. But I claimed I was used to the solitude. I lied to myself.

Since then, I have often left a familiar place for a new one. Each time I have felt trepidation in my heart. Each time I have set foot in a new environment, I have sang the hymn quietly to myself. And each time I have triumphed over incognity.

But today I burn my bridges again. I try and build bridges with my surroundings. I fail miserably. I drift outward into the open sea with nothing to hold me down. I become an island. And I tell myself I am happy. I tell myself I have finally attained the freedom I have always seeked. I tell myself that there is no greater bliss than being a floating island with no strings attached. I convince myself of the opportunities the future holds and that can be achieved only by looking far far ahead. I keep repeating to myself that looking back is doom for me. I am sure that independence is what I seek and what I shall attain. I tell myself the hymn was only a child's song. It has no truth in it. I look into the mirror and see the smiling face of one who's happy. I also know I am a good actor. I know I am lying.