Time

Persistence of Memory by Dali

It’s funny how we perceive time

A week ago I saw the sky shatter on my feet,

A month ago we were worried about the lights in your room,

A year ago you put me up on a high pedestal.

Those glances, passing city lights, faint whispers,

Air heavy with rum and cigarettes,

Waking up with burdens, laying down with tears,

Beating hearts, quivering lips, the storm.

Beautiful hills, dark cold nights,

Lies and truths, battles and wars,

Curses with feelings, questions unanswered

A week, a month, a year of infinity has passed.

It’s funny how we perceive time.

Everything changes

As the laughs echoed, I looked over at you.
You were sitting there, just laughing and enjoying.
And then it stuck me.
It’s been an year. An year of knowing you. An year of admiring you.
One year ago, we were in the same place.
You sitting there, just laughing and enjoying.
Me looking at you with all admiration I had.
My heart beating fast, with my hands shaking, I would talk to you.
I could barely look you in the eye lest they reveal my secret.
Now, it’s all so similarly different.
I talk to you with my head held up, but I still can’t look you in the eye.
My heart still beats fast, but my hands don’t shake anymore.
Then, you didn’t see me in that way;
Now, you still don’t see me in that way.

Just a dream.

Maybe it was morning, when I heard my phone chime but I fell into a deep slumber, which lead me to this dream world. Oh how beautiful it was. That’s why I hate dreaming so much. It’s always beautiful isn’t it? The dreams, filled with scenes we love the most, moments we really wished would happen, people we love the most. The time when your deepest wishes come true, which have no chance in real life. I always thought dreams taunted me. Dreams mocked me. They showed me what I really wanted, when I kept denying it in the face of the world. There are things which you can’t have, you couldn’t have, and there is nothing you can do about it; but dreams would come at you, throw you off the cliff as it showed you how it might make you feel if it came true.
It was all a simple dream really. It was just you and me, walking down some beautiful street while the sun was setting down to rest. It was just you and me, looking up at the stars and wondering why we weren’t together sooner. It was just you and me, sitting in a cafe and sipping our hot coffee as cold breeze blew outside. It was just you and me, together, forever.
And the dream ended, a short termed dream. Short enough to be ignored. Long enough to make heart stop. I don’t dream often. And when I dream, I forget them. But then, there are some dreams which always stick with you, make you mad. I don’t choose dream about it. I don’t want to. I don’t want to be reminded of my feelings. I don’t want to be reminded of anything that I am suppressing. I don’t want to dream at all.

Date

Ghorite tokhon 6ta baaje, baire surjo osther halka alo royche. Khushi dhruto bege laptaop e kichu type korei jache. Hotath phone ta vibrate kore, phone ta tule birokto hoy bollo “Hello? ” “Are! It’s me, Rohit! Ajke mone ache toh? I will come to pick you up at 7.” “Ha! Of course! Sure, I will be waiting.” Phone ta rekhe, bhuru kuchke Khushi ghori er dike takalo. 15min er modhe kaaj ta sesh kore uthte hobe thik korlo. Kichu khon por ke ekta bell bajalo, birokto hoy uthe dorja khule dekhe Juhi. Juhi toh Khushi ke dekhe obaak “Ei ki re? 6:30 baaje toh, r tui ready hosni? Date na ajke tor? ” “Dhush, 5min lagbe amar ready hote, kaaj ta… ” ” Ei chup kor! Internship niye eto matha ghamas na toh. Ja ja ready ho fast! ” Juhi thele thele Khushi ke ghore pathiye dilo. “Bhalo ekta dress porbi kintu, r makeup ta ektu bhalo kore, parle amai dakish, ami koriye debo. ”
Khushi almari ta khule oitar samne dariye roilo. Kirokom jano iccha koreo kichu korte parchilo na. Jama gulo dekhte dekhte ekta jeans er jacket e chokh porlo, oita ke aro bhetore e dhukiye dilo. “Ei oita toh bhalo chilo, oita por. ”
“Na thak. Onno kichu… ”
“Are oita toh ek baar porechilis, r ekbaar… ”
“Chaar na. Sob kichu ki r baar baar hoy? Ei dekh, ei white dress ta porchi, bhalo na? ”
“Ha”
Khushi ready hoy dekhe tokhon o 7ta bajte 15min baki. Living room e eshe boslo. Juhi muchke ekbar haslo. Khushi birokto hoy bollo “Ki? ” “Bhalo lagche” “Thanks.” “I pray he is the one.” “Mane? ”
“Dekh Khushi, ami jani na tor mone sarak khon ki chole, but you keep on rejecting guys for no reason at all. ”
“Ami aagei bolechilam, don’t set me up. ”
“Khushi, ei experiences gulo o important.”
“Well, here is your experience ma’am. ”
“Tor ei ek maash e duto chele r sathe kotha hoyeche, and you don’t like either of them, taar aageo koto… It’s really ridiculous. ”
“None of them were my type. ”
“Both were funny, smart, good people, eta tor type na? ”
“Clearly you have a different definition of funny and smart. ”
“Haha, nice joke. Khushi, tor problem ta ki? ”
“Kartik Aryan er monologue ta debo? ”
“Maar khabi tui! Actually I know what your problem is. ”
“Wow! Really? Well, enlighten me, Miss Psychiatrist. ”
“Tui ekhono oi hopeless case e atke achis. You actually never moved on. ”
“Oho! What an analysis! ”
“Sotti ki na bol? ”
“Ki bolbo? ”
“Kotha ghorashna!”
“Ki chas boltoh tui? Ha! Ami atke achi. Ek bochor hote gelo, I am still stuck on him. But amai move on korte hobe ami jani. I am trying my best! ”
“Eta ke trying o bole na. Tui sobar modhe oke khujhe berash. That’s not even… ”
“Fine, berai! Ha ami oke khujhe berai! Juhi, I just can’t get him out of my mind. First jedin dekhechilam, sedin theke he is on my mind!” Er modhe bell ta beje uthlo, Khushi dorja khule dekhe Rohit, oor sathe beriye gelo.
Ghori er kata 9tai pouchoi, tokhon e dorja er okhane awaj hoy. Juhi, bhoy dorjar kache giye dekhe Khushi dhukche. “Ki re? Eto taratari? ” “Date e gechilam, date hoy geche, chole esechi. ”
“Kamon laglo? ”
“Shei ek e. Restaurant e boshe, different sort of small talk koro, byass.”
“First date e r ki expect korbi? ”
“Na, kichu na. ”
“Oh God! Abar! ”
“Ki? ”
“Khushi, that day wasn’t even a date! ”
“Ami kichui bolini! ”
“But I know what you are thinking about!”
“It was a memorable day for me!”
“Everything related to him is! Amai ekta kotha bol… He doesn’t even know properly that you love him! ”
“But I do, isn’t that enough? ”
“Tor kosto hobe pore. Someday he is going to go for someone, sedin tor bishal kosto hobe. ”
“Toh? ”
“Toke keu kosto pete dekhte chaina, Khushi. Oita hopeless ekta case, please beriye ay okhane theke. ”
“Bhalobasha ki r profit… ”
“Ami bhabtam, tui logical, rational… ”
“Oor kotha ele amar matha irrational hoy jai, I know! ”
“Khushi, there are people out there who love you. And are better. ”
“Chai na amar. ”
“Jed korchis. ”
“Juhi, I love him. And I am not seeking for love or relationship. I just love him. Ha, o amai same way te dekhena. Oke mon er kotha bolle, amai reject kore debe, hoy toh dur e soriye debe, tai ami boli na. Ha ami bhebechilam, je move on korte hobe, korte parle sob thik hoy jabe. But joto ami chesta kori, toto amar nijer e kosto hoy. R ami amar ulto dik er bosa lok keo kosto dichi. Eta toh thik na. Ei jonne bolchi, ei sob korasna, please. I am really happy with what I have right now. ”
“Kintu oke onno karur sathe dekhle toh kharap lagbei, kosto toh hobei. ”
“Jodi shei manush ta khushi hoy, ei sob choto khato kosto r kichui na. Sojjo kore nebo. Kadbo hoytoh kota raat. Byass, trpr back to routine. ”
Ei sob bolte bolte Khushi barir jama pore ghor theke beriye dekhe Juhi berobe berobe korche. “Chole jachis tahole? ”
“Ha, toke toh r dekhchi kichutei persuade kora jachena move on korar jonno. ” Dujon e hese uthlo.
“Thanks re. ”
“Kano? ”
“Amar jonno eto kichu korar jonno. Acha, bari giye missed call kore dish. ” Ei bole Khushi dorja diye, abar nijer laptop er samne bose druto bege type korte thake.

Farewell

Tokhon class 12 er sobe shuru, sobar mon ei besh ekta halka dukho, halka khushi. School diary khule sobai farewell er date niye kotha bolche, Khushi er bondhura ra besh excited. Aalo hotath bole uthlo, “Ki re Khushi, saree porbi toh? ” Khushi er kokhonoi saree er byapar ta poshato na. Hese bollo, “Sorry bhai, oi saree joriye ami school e aste parbona. Kurti tei dekha debo”. Eta shune toh adha class er matha kharap, farewell e saree porbe na? Erokom kano? Aalo hese Deb ke bollo ” Ki re? Kichu bol oke! ” Deb Mein Kamph ta dhup kore bondho kore ekta michki hasi diye bollo “Madam ke ki r kichu bola jai? Onar iccha e toh sobar upor e. Saree porben na mane porben na. Shudhu Saraswati Pujo r din ektu doya kore dekha jai, tao 1 ghontar besi na” Sobai hese uthlo kotha ta shune. Khushi bishal rege mege takalo Deb er dike. “Toke ami pore dekhe nebo” bole dhuke gelo nijer Sense and Sensibility er modhe.
Sondhe belai tuition er por Deb r Khushi sob somoi ek sathe hete bari ferot jeto. Sedin o hatche dujon e. Khushi chup kore hatchilo onek khon dhore, Deb byapar ta bhujte pere bollo “Ta bolchilam, ami kintu panjabi parbo”
“Ha toh porish, barun korechi ami? Jani tor bhalo laage. I like guys who wear shirts though.”
“Na mane, sokal theke mukh fuliye achis, emni e mukh ta fola tor… ”
“Tham toh, amar saree porte oto bhalo laage na, oi bhabe sobar samne bolar dorkar chilo ki? ”
“Are sorry, ne saree porte hobe na toke farewell e, kurti pore asis, na parle dress e pore nis. R kothai kothai I like guys who wear shirts bolte hobe na, sedin onek ei pore asbe.”
“Abar!”
“Hush, moja korchi, ei samle gari dhake mere debe” Hese dilo Khushi.
Ekhon class 12 er sesh, du soptaho baki farewell er. Class 12 er shuru ta je bhabe hoychilo, sesh er dike onek kichui palte geche. Onek kichui alada. Kintu, somoi toh r karur jonno boshe thake na, tai somoi moto nijeke samlate hoy. Khushi aj ke ma er sathe eseche saree kinte, prothombar. Ekta sundor dekhte saree kinlo. Farewell er din, Khushi er barite sokal theke dourodouri, saree pora na toh puro ekta world War mone hochilo. Oboseshe saree pore, school e pouchai. Teacher theke bondhu ra, sobai besh compliment korlo Khushi ke. Kintu Khushi ekjon kei khujchilo. Shirt er bhire khujchilo panjabi pora chele ta ke. Kintu sedin keu e panjabi pore aseni. Arghya ke pore Khushi jigesha kore “Ki re? Deb aseni?” “Na…. Mone toh hoche na” “Asbena? ” “Janina re”. Kamon ekta jano mon bhenge gelo Khushi er. Tao sedin bhaloi gelo din ta. Emniteo eta unexpected kichui chilo na, Deb r Khushi er gobhir bondhutto ta koyek maash aagei khub baaje bhabe bhenge gechilo. Oder modhe ja e chilo na kano, bondhutto ta bhangar por, dujon dujon er samna samni hote chaito na. Kono class event thakle, Deb school asto na. Khushi adhek somoi library te katato. Tobe farewell er din asbena, byapar ta Khushi er mote o bhalo lage ni.
Besh koyekta maash kete geche. Ekhon sobai school er gondi periye, college er duniya e eseche. Onek jon onno sohor e chole geche, r tader modhe ekjon chilo Deb. Khushi jokhon ei khobor ta shone, du min puro shunotai takiye chilo. Kintu “tar ekhon jai asena” bole kotha eriye jai. Pujo eseche, school er bondhura sobai dekha korte chaiche. Khushi nijer school life er sesh er dike adhek er o besi bondhuder ke nijer jibon theke soriye dey. Panchami er raat e hotath Arghya er phone “Janis, Deb Kolkata e eseche” “Toh ami ki korbo? ”
“Khub ekta school er karur sathe jogajog rakheni o”
“Bhalo koreche”
“Bhabchilam dekha korbo”
“Besh, korish”
“Tui? ”
“Ami ki? ”
“Dekha korbi na? ”
“Iccha nei”
“Khushi…. ”
“Dher, acha thik ache, dekha korbo, kobe bol? ”
“Asthami er din bolchilo”
“Dekhchi ami”.
Asthami elo. Khushi jabe bolechilo. Kintu oor mon ta kamon ekta korchilo. Bhebechilo emni ekta kurti pore anjali diye oder sathe dekha korte jabe. Kintu ebar e hotath oor iccha korchilo saree porte. Kintu oor toh saree kena nei, r ma er saree gulo oor bishesh kichu pochondo hoto na. Ma ke giye bole “O Ma, bhabchi asthami te, saree porbo. ” “Porish” “Kintu amar saree nei. ” “Farewell er saree ta porish, khub maniyechilo toke. ” Ma bollo farewell er saree. Shei saree ta e abar porbe? Jar jonno saree ta… Na na, o karur jonno saree poreni, o nijer iccha moto saree pore gechilo. Asthami er din, Khushi shei farewell er saree pore, anjali diye, dekha korte jai bondhuder sathe. Mon e bishal bhoy, Deb ki kotha bolbe r? Last kotha bolechilo college e chole jawar aage. Tar por toh Khushi kono khobor e paini oor. Kamon jano harano priyo hair clip er moto chilo Deb. Ekbar harale tokhon r pabena. Kintu koyek mash por kono ekta kona theke beriye ase. Sedin ke chaari dike chele ra panjabi pore ghurche. R shei panjabi er bhire Khushi hotath dekhe ekta shirt pora chele. Deb nijer shei misti hasi ta hese Khushi er samne ese daralo “Bhalo achis? ” .

Rendezvous

It was a wonderful day you said as we walked towards the subway. I blurted out a small yeah with a tiny smile. The clouds were crying their hearts open it seemed. A couple walked in front of us, one holding the other tightly under one umbrella. I looked at you walking in front of me with one hand in your pocket. I had run out of words to say to you, my mind had turned blank, my heart was bleeding. Suddenly I splashed on a puddle and groaned as my jeans got wet, you asked me to be careful. Or maybe that was what I thought. As we entered the subway, our voices echoed in the void, but I couldn’t remember a word that you had said.
As we sat in the station, with one seat empty between us, I wanted to go back. Go back, to the time when we first met. The first time I noticed you, the first time I fell for you. My heart kept on bleeding. As the metro pulled in and we got in, we laughed at a silly innuendo. I cracked a lame joke, and suddenly your reply made me draw a similarity. I didn’t want to draw any. You sat down, I didn’t, cause I didn’t want to. I sat somewhere else. But then again I sat next to you. It might have come out as desperate. The whole berth was empty, I sat close to you. Maybe I was trying to warm myself from your coldness. Maybe I wanted to share the warmth. Maybe I really did think to be something which I knew it was not. You were listening to some song which I had no clue. I sat there, looking at the familiar stations go by. You wanted to click pictures, and we did click pictures, but there was something unusual about them. I don’t know if its good or bad about it. Our destination was coming close, I glided towards the door and found you behind me. We got down. And the whole world started to run. But we walked at our own pace. I misguided you towards the stairs. You didn’t say anything.
We reached the train station. It was raining. We were waiting. We purposely let go of the first train. My glasses kept getting wet by the little drizzle. We rambled about stuff so random that I can’t remember them too. After an hour of waiting, the train came up and we took it. We both were standing, but none of us faced each other anymore. You were listening to something, I was listening to something else. You were in your train of thoughts, I was in my train of wonderings. I had observed you enough to remember the details of your face, but discreet enough for you to not notice. Soon we sat together, crushed by the crowd. We barely spoke anything to each other. As my destination came closer, you reminded me of the fact. I waved a small bye and stood in front of the wrong door. After some time, I realized how wrong I was. And went to the correct way. Before getting down, I looked at you again, nodded my head a little and got down.
The clouds kept on crying for some unknown reason. For some unknown reason, I didn’t open my umbrella. I walked in the tears, I bathed in the sadness. The rain stopped gradually, but my heart is still bleeding.

Silence

I was standing among the crowd with music blaring from my earphones. Stations passed, people got in, people got out. Everything was a daze. I looked up and found my reflection on the glass pane. I couldn’t help but to notice the tired eyes. Those joyful happy eyes have turned into something so blatant as tired. My friend suddenly makes a joke, I counter it with something funnier. We both laugh. Silence.
There are still a few more stations to go. My heart still beats with a lot of pain. I am still haunted by my past, not gonna lie. My past is effecting my present, in every possible way it could. And what did I do? I just let it. What else am I supposed to? Forget all the hard learnt lessons? It’s not like I am experiencing something different from the past, yeah maybe slightly. But then, the bottom line would be the same. My friend again makes a joke on something, I just laugh to it. Silence.I remember both those incidents, the day and the night. The starting of something cursed or blessed, I have no clue. I let out a sign. I draw the parallels, find the similarities. I wonder about my future. That’s all what I do. Draw up the similarities and find out how devilish is the act for me and accordingly dispose it. But then this was a temptation. And it grew stronger with time. Each night I realize how screwed I am. Each morning I know I am again going back to my old house of hell, only to be tortured later.
My friend cracked another joke as our station appeared. I tried to laugh the hardest among the silence, but she couldn’t hear me anymore.

Wish

There are nights when you wish for something with your whole heart. You wish it with all the force you can gather in that little heart of yours. But then as usual cruel life would just walk in and ruin it. It would crush all yours hopes and dreams. Throw you down to the deepest of pits since you have ever fallen, it will give you no time to realize that you are nothing but just another small ant trying to find your way into this wide maze. The wide maze where you have no clue how to get out, or why you were put in here in the first place.

At Last when you somehow manage to pull yourself out of the pit, when you have barely just tasted the fresh air, life comes again. But now you are not sure why it has again stood in front of you. All throughout your living span, all it did was to give you blows; harsh blows, light blows, irreparable blows, memorable blows, all sort of blows. You stand face to face with it, but have no clue what blow you are gonna get. You clench your fist, close your eyes, hoping for the worst. You feel the cold strong wind pushing you backwards. You feel the wind trying to throw you out before life knocks you. However, life just stands still. You are confused, what does it mean? Why isn’t it doing anything.
But then I heard somewhere “Sometimes a second feels like a lifetime”.

Changes

Everything seemed to be moving so fast. I felt like being dragged to somewhere else. Somewhere vaguely familiar, somewhere I wished to visit but avoided. It was like fairy dust being sprinkled on me, flying into a beautiful blue sky. I looked back at those dark nights and stormy days, those caged days and countless rainy days. All having the same dream. The unattainable dream, the impossible one.
As I soared, I dared to sing a bit, underneath the angels cheered, happy to see me come out of my cage. Maybe it was time I released myself from your clutches, which I kept holding on dearly for my life. I forgot how the flight felt, those first rapid heart beats, that suspense, everything.

But then there is a fear. A fear so delicate which can’t be told openly. The fear of falling down again, of being trapped in a cage again or worse being killed off by some hunter’s gun. But they don’t hunt anymore. Well then, maybe I will be just trapped again, I will be tricked again, the blue sky might change into another storm. Maybe it will be worse, there will be fire around or snow falling onto my wings, making me give up at once.
I feel so happy and afraid of flying again. My wings want to move faster and take me to places, my mind keeps on reminding of the dangers, of the traps, and there are too many. And I don’t know if I will be stuck in a tornado or fly among rainbows.

Last time

It didn’t hit me till I opened the door to my loneliness. Do you remember those times when we were inseparable like Juno swans? When my words would flow to you and come out as verses. The time when you made our world beautiful?
Is it a coincidence that I have been thinking about you all day? No, no, it’s not what I mean. I mean I am way pass that crush feeling I had. Do the old conversations still mean something to you? Do you remember the first time you called me and said you were sorry? Remember how that started, what I still remember as endless phone calls and endless teasing of our friends?

Maybe it was last night, as I spent the whole night looking at the sky change it’s darkness and give way to bright colours. Sometimes feeling the dire feeling of loneliness as I remember your guitar chords tuning to that old Bengali song which hopefully would make me fall asleep.
It’s been really long, but every time this day of the week arrives and as I get low key excited about it, I am struck by the reality. You do remember that how much we badly wanted to walk the streets at night? And do you remember our favourite street? That street where you showed how much you care about me? That street where you gave me my favourite book? That day where you acted all goofy and I was being all smart? How we took stuff from shops but ran away not paying for it?
And today, we did it. We walked our favourite street, at night but how I wished we were the same as before. Where I could openly jump around and you would join me. But it was so different from the dream. We were just walking, and talking about stuff, which didn’t matter but was enough to reach the partition. As I said a small bye and you turned back, somewhere I still hoped you would turn back. Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But all I knew was that when I came back to my loneliness, I remembered that maybe this was again the last time I will be seeing you. Or even talking to you.