CIRCLES IN CIRCLES

4 years changed everything, the concept of myself as a human being, as a woman, of fears and anger and betrayal, of dreams that are above everything else to dreams that do not seem as important when you come close, so close to realize them.

Tomorrow I fly, with eyes lidded with some breatholds of a quiet unsettling acceptance; things don't always turn out to be the way you want them to. To my city, that overdunged underdrained city I mentioned, where the metamorphosis first began.

Todays OPD was filled with happy moments. And I counted I touch approximately 400 people a week; save my insouciance for wondering, I wonder if this sea of people I have been thrown into, to think about them and worry about them putting my life into back gear, brushed below the carpets into a deadened awareness later, does compensate for my not being able to go and be with the people I most want in my life. That my habit of thinking about them makes them hug me, touch my feet, come hunting for me and all that, yet the people I most wanted to help in this life, I was tainted with a sense of expectation that ruined, always ruined the trust.

And I will never know why the people you most love in your life are always the ones to hurt you the most. A lot of them happen to be in that city I am going to now.

And I guess the papers I will be carrying this time will be signatory to the coming to an end of the entire section of a life. Less lived by or more, I don't know, its happily sad in a weird way. Perhaps I should have done somethings when I did not do them. Its never been an ego issue, but I hesitated, for several reasons in saying the most important thing. Maybe I would have, could have done better in a different set of circumstances. But in any case, they were mine.


You know, someone had asked me what would I do if I ever knew there was this one last day of my life. The answer to it is the same as it was then. I am prepared. No dues remaining to give to anyone, no one left whom I could have said how much I loved them and did not, no work left undone, no money borrowed, no love lost with parents, sister brother..the ilk. A little short of effort maybe, as far as my job was concerned, but I have given every working hour the best of my effort.

Yet I would like to go and take a long walk on the road, this time alone maybe, and go watch the fireflies on mahanadi patha and go to some austere corner of the other side of kathajodi to cry and cry, till I dissolve into nothingness.

I miss you my tropical over heated worthless city, I love you with that passion I drove my scooty challenging the train, where every temple nook and cranny was filled with a prayer to three hundred gods, and every rainy moment had a tear of longing. I am coming to you. Last time as me. And I will leave it from the soil where any remaining of my soulcry goes to. Puri. Nothing could have been better than this.