We needed milk, eggs and bread. It was already evening, the sun was still up, painting the surrounding in a tone of ochre. It was an elo-melo (in Bengali, means haphazard) day, and I didn’t want to do anything. It wasn’t late, but the air was heavy with a weekend kind of loneliness. Biking down Greenbelt Road to the nearest grocery store is an exciting chore, though.
My lazy laptop screen blinked, notifying me of yet another news about how the world was going nowhere. North Korea tested nukes, it seems. Just another bad world news that I’d shrug off insouciantly, except, I suddenly remembered that baba is on a tour to Seoul. I checked my phone, I spoke with him only minutes ago. It’s funny how the world is suddenly so small. The top three names in my Messenger are now all at very different parts of the globe.
I like the wind splashing across my face when I bike in the highways here. There is a thrill, and a numbing sensation as if I am racing away from life, hundreds of rpm-s at a time. Now the initial excitement of settling down to a new life has died down slightly. Buying groceries and cooking are regular chores now, and not daily adventures. Did Anshuman buy juice? I might have forgotten to close the window in the kitchen. Don’t need to cook anything for the night. There is a lot of pasta still, from yesterday. The brakes are not working perfectly, the gears are working much better than yesterday though. My back is still hurting from yesterday’s visit to the gym. The sky is red now, and the almost full moon is right ahead of me. An electronic tune kept playing on a loop inside my head, but I couldn’t recognise it right away.
Nine years ago, on this day, I remember standing in front of the electric oven in Keoratala burning ghat. My grandmother had just lost her battle with cancer. I remember I wasn’t as awash with grief as my current self would like to imagine. The fire was fiercely sad, though.
I got a fortune cookie earlier today, when I went to the chinese restaurant in our neighbourhood for lunch. I forgot what it said actually, but it was corny, like all fortune cookies. But I liked the way the waitress smiled, she seemed like a kind lady.
I hate facebook nowadays, It reminds me exactly how my life has diverged from those with whom I used to be joined at the hips even till a few days ago. I can’t help but feel jealous. Sridevi told me a few days ago that lack of Vitamin D can cause depression during winters. It’s just fall now. But Sundays are a bit like winter. What if days were like seasons?
Can’t wait for summer.
unabindranath 