Yet Again.

Two more friends leave. Kolkata is fast becoming a lonely place.

And surprise oh surprise, a phone call was missing. I do not doubt that it shall come in whatever number of days it takes to reach Bangalore from Calcutta by train along with the words 'packing' , 'hurry' and 'sorry', but it is a terrible thing. To be the only one left behind as it were, while the other parts of your world march off. And march off together.

I am told that I'm often too hard on people. I suspect that it is usually on friends. And I fear that jealousy forms a large part of it.

Makes me feel very, very, small.

Of New York and just a little more.

I wanted to save up New York to watch it with my friends, but that was not possible, and so I watched it alone, feeling lonely right through Junoon. And then 9/11 took over and I no longer missed anyone.

There are better movies made to depict racial profiling by the USA after 9/11. And there are better movies made on songs of friends. If I want to watch the earlier,I'd watch Khuda kay liye. And if I want to watch the latter, I'd watch Dil Chahta hai.

Speaking of Dil Chahta hai, there comes a time, and sometimes far, far too soon than u've ever imagined when you feel that your friendships aren't quite what they were not too long back. The differences that provided such newness and sparking conversations have just been reduced to frustrations at not being able to put your points across and you find yourself increasingly biting your tongue on a late night phone-call because your brain is numb with 12 hours of learning and you still have another 4 hours to go before dawn when you can finally go to get some sleep before it starts all over again.

Not that you like it. You were the one who would take joy in all your differences and say " Friends don't have to be alike . They have to know how to enjoy their differences together." Not to mention newer friends with whom you find it easier to converse, simply because they seem more on the same plane. And you are ashamed of yourself because, in your hearts, this is traitorous and you don't have the guts to talk it out with your friend because of the unsureness that you have been feeling for nearly a year now.

We find comfort in those who agree with us. Growth in those who don't.

???

P.S : Just when John's finally learning how to act, along comes another to claim his discarded crown.
P.P.S : Isn't it the same new york which KJo shoots??

P.P.P.S: For my readers:- In school our classmates named the three of us Amar, Akbar and Anthony. We however named ourselves differently. After DCH- Akash, Siddharth and Sameer.

Who am I ?

Farewell At Howrah.

Another friend departs. This time to Mumbai, a charmed city. And obviously, there are usual promises, but as always, these will lose significance, fade.

It's something like standing on a platform at the Howrah station, waiting for your train among chatters, excitement, reminisces and maybe, some tears. It comes and you wait for it's departure with the twin feelings of dread and hope.And then it leaves, with the sound of the whistle you've grown to love so much since your childhood. Only, this time, you are on the wrong side of the iron strips.

Soon you are left standing alone on a deserted platform, looking round with a lump in your throat, and a head filled with years worth of memories to other platforms,where more separations, more uncertainties await.

Thinking Things.

My friends seem to think that I don't call them up or otherwise contact them for months on end. Now that's pretty strange because as far as I remember I'm the one doing all the calling.Though you wouldn't want to place your bets on someone who can't remember birthdays. But to be fair to me, thats nearly all that i've ever forgotten.And when people call up in moods its always smart not to challange them. Especially if they've got career breaking exams staring at them in the face. Not that im the one to fight on petty things but I do wish that the inherent beauty of flawless truth could have been exhibited.

Maybe another day.



Best of luck.

A Dedicatory

somewhere between all the studying..............

and the pretending to study.........and the downright not studying..............somewhere between the endless classes........and the free periods...........somewhere between the teachers teaching................and the teachers not teaching................i forgot.............forgot what it was like not to sit beside friends...........

somewhere between all the laughing..........and the seriousness..............somewhere between all the talking about others ..and the talking about others...........somewhere between the endless ' u kno what happend'..........and the 'what will happen's................i forgot ...........forgot what it was like..........not to have anyone to say these things to...............

somewhere between all the smirking in class............and the covert glances...........somewhere between the staying back at school............and going out to school................somewhere between roaming around together..............and the bus ride back home together.............i forgot...............forgot what it was like not to have any aim................forgot what it was like to board buses whitout knowing where it would take us.........................

somewhere between the roadside puchkas................and the Bakers..............somewhere between Foodcourt..............and Cuppa...............somewhere between all those lunch breaks.............and the tiffin boxes................i forgot....................forgot what it was like to eat alone..............

somewhere between all those truth and dares......................and the dumb charades...............somewhere between all those hangmans.................and the lock and keys.................i forgot................forgot what it was like to be doing nothing......................

somewhere between always having your frnds by your side.............and seeing them at school everyday.....................................

i forgot.........................forgot what life was without them...............