To Mr. Anonymous.
Or, is it Miss?

Between the maddening rush for success and the all encompassing adulation that comes in its aftermath, there lies a little spring of contentment that ppl seldom explore.

This contentment arises from self-love and blesses you doubly.

First, this is a life-time romance, and hence, never really loses in appeal. And second, unlike adulation, which is transient, self-love stays till your twilight years.

Those who have mastered this art of loving themselves, need nobody else to "FEEL SPECIAL."

Count me as one.

Apologies. But i really do not depend on any anonymous comments for that. Not that i'm discouraging you. You and your comments are welcome, anyday.

But then, like so many other ppl, you understand me all to little. And that stops you from critical appreciation, which i value above both criticism and appreciation.

Cheers, Mister ya Miss.

(And yes i have'nt deleted any one of your comments. You wrongly alleged, it seems)

So my profile visits have increased again....

Some 20 more ppl popped in, in the last 4 days!

anonymously, though....

Everytime i write a post, my profile visits would increase, which tells me they are already follwing me...

But only 8 of them do it publicly...rest are anonymous...As if i'm some despicable monster who would devour them up, if they ever revealed their names!

"Bloody Good Lord,
Seriously dude, your head is stuck way up your ass."

Somebody dropped this anonymously on my "Adieu, ACJ" post.

There's something special about failures.
It helps you value appreciation, when they pour in!

At another occasion, I would not have even read that properly...I've got them all my life...flattering ones...

And strange though it may seem, criticism has awed me more. Always.

At least, it's been more stimulating.

In blandishment, you get drowned in your own vain world. Criticism motivates you to retrospect. I'm talking about positive criticism (Which, sadly, is rare).

Anyway times have changed, now. I've qualms about my own abilities. Not about me not having it, but the unsettling fear that the world might recognise it all too late...like it did with Vincent Ven Gogh.

I liked those words, the awe that the anonymous reader had formed for my craft. Everbody needs it. Reassurance. Sometime or the other.

We are not infallible warriors in life.

"Why do girls chase men they cannot marry,
and why do dogs chase cars they can't drive?"

...Opening lines of the play i watched with ACJ pals in Chennai!

We all now we can't be a winner always,
n yet we strive regardless...

We chase.

In futile attempt to take it all.

why?

what explains this insatiable desire to succeed?

Is it determination?
Unflagging faith?
Or, merely the ego in us, which weighs down our discretion?

We can't tell.
We don't wish to find it out, either.

We're lost in the futile chase.

Before i begin,

Happy B'de, Ma'am Dixit!

You still have it,

That inborn finesse, which separates a queen from a commoner.

And like millions others, i too am dying to see you back.

Come back, Diva!
The night is gloomy while you're away.

***

It's been a week already... since i was home..
one of the three weeks i'm supposed to be holidaying here..
At least, that's what others believe!

And, before they get any clue of my situation, i should have a job!

Yeah, i'm head-strong, and it is of little or no importance what others might think of me...or, of my failures....

But then, i don't want that perfunctory rounds of questions pouring in from inquisitive friends...and i explaining to them in needless defence...

To avoid that, i have to have a job...and surely, i will!

I know i have it....nd when one has it, one could be made to wait, but one can't be denied altogether.

Thats how it should be. Atleast.

***

It's scorching summer...
43.6 degrees...even the AC is givin a lil big miss.

***

I'd be Kolkata next Saturday.... Happy will be pikin me up to his place...It wud be nice meeting the Dasguptas again...how many years have it been? perhaps 4...or may be 5..

There was a time, when they were settled here, and i can hardly remember one occassion at home that they dint grace with their presence...and vice-versa..

Hopefully, it would be one grand weekend..

***

ACJ is fresh in my mind, yet...nd i genuinely feel, it can never be a blur...The canteen, the corridors, the labs, the library....

the lecture hall, the studios...teachers... pals...they all reappear in my idle moments... like some tapestry of exquisite memories!

***

It's idle time.

And we all hate it.
We, the workaholics.

But once into the monotony of life again, we'd realise "idle" was attractively plain..

To not to value things while we have them, is common to human nature.

Knowing that, we still would not mould it.
Thats another trait common to us all!

Adieu, ACJ

The brilliant lights that blinded us for a moment; and sleek cars, which darted around in a hunt for parking space, announced last night it was CONVOCATION!

The campus bustled with people and activity like never before... Girls draped in exquisite saris, and boys giving them a run with embroidered kurtas, dotted the place like a constellation of stars..
All of them happy, delighted, and assured in their own rights!

Excellent food: well-chosen menu, cooked and served elegantly..
And, a battery of reporters pushing their way into the MSSRF auditorium.... The evening couldn't have been more exciting!

Except that guests outnumbered chairs... a whole swarm of them had to stand in the sideways, while an embarassed ACJ team offered apologies!

It was not for us alone that time rolled on a new note,
ACJ had its share too: A new Dean!

Ma'am Bindoo Bhaskar takes over from SKM Sir!!!

Am i happy to learn that?

hmmm.... She was the first Professor who taught us...right on July 13th...and she liked me... and i liked her just as much...so yeah, definitely, im delighted at this momentous feat of hers...

But, i'd be lying if i tell you it's an unadulterated joy...while i'm happy for Bindoo ma'am, i'm more unsettled to think SKM Sir would not be around in the dean's capacity...

i think he did an outstanding job.. he was neither harsh nor a disciplinarian...he would not make any of those efforts that make your presence felt..and yet, he had that infallible thing about him which ensured everything was in place!

A dean who never over-performed it...

I got good recognition from the professors...earlier in the day the dean called to see me.. and during the convocation, Ram Sir and Geeta maa'am approached me and talked for quite some time.. "I'll remember you as the boy who always said the right things at the right time," quipped Geeta ma'am..
So nice of her..

At dinner, Nalini ma'am and Arvind sir, too, offered me words of appreciation, and assured that things would work out soon!

So did Sampat Sir, VKR Sir, Nishat Sir and KVK Sir!

Confessions, again...

Yes i did feel lonely... though not sidelined....
A number of them took time out for me, and said that last "hullo"...
In impeccable style...

But, they were acquaintances, and their 'hullo" was for the boy who made his mark at ACJ, and whose knack for perfection they admired...

To put it plainly, i missed friends...

How many did i have, at the first place?

She is already away...

And then, the second girl, who would make me feel at home with her kind concerns, hadn't spoken to me for ages...she did make an effort the night b4 placements...sent me a lovely message, and expressed hope that i'd be triumphant...but my cold reply perhaps put her off...today when i approached her for a valediction, it seemed she revenged it... offering me formal courtesies!

Not an end i would wish to remember!
Though, it won't be easy forgetting her....

And then, he!

He avoided me, to say the least...

but i pursued him; and later, realising that i would like a valediction as pleasant as our memories had been, he too relented.. He asked me to see him at the gate.. we had some best talk, and we took snaps, too...

i don't know why i should call it best talk, considering there hardly was any?
but then, that is what I've liked about him... that special way of communicating things... he would not speak or do anything, and yet you would realise the kindness in him!

Today i called him up early morning and told him i would be coming to see him at the airport...he was happy about it... Not only did he talk more, it felt as though things had never really changed.. At least for one moment i felt he was still the same man who comforted me throughout the first term... supporting me against those people, and cheering me up in unhappy times! At least for a moment, this was true..

And then,she... what do i do write about her... she intruded into my life in the 2nd term...and then...then she must have bewitched me...otherwise how would i become her friend all so soon?
Thankfully she dint bewitch me into a frog, like the wicked fairies in Grimm brothers do.
I'm going to see her off to airport this evening...

Cannot write more...

It is by the sullen humour of destiny that all good things have to end... ACJ ended all too early, in just about 10 months... And still, we have a whole world of memories to take home............. good bye, till we meet again!

Perhaps, my pride has fallen to such appalling levels, that I'm no longer able to camouflage my sorrow with practiced laughter!

It shows on the face, and thats exactly what i hate.

Friday evening, the dean told me,"It was an extraordinary experience to have a student like you."

I listened. I liked. And, I felt flattered, too.

Only for a while.

The next moment, it felt as though I had been on top and at the bottom, all at the same time.

Life's little ironies.
Or, perhaps, a little bigger.
That the good should slog and suffer, and bear indignities of life.

A rule seldom relaxed.

While I was coming out of college last afternoon, I chanced to see those two local girls. There in the lane. Running in the road in gay abandon. Flinging mud at each other. The older one at the younger girl. Then the younger one at the older. And then together. Forgetting their manners, which, anyway, is irrelevant to one at their place. Not needing to worry about their dress, already shabby and torn. And, least bothered by the presence of a world, which watched them like amused spectator.

I thought what a comfort it is to be born humble.
I desired the same for me.
A prosaic life, where you have nothing to lose.
A mundane existence, where the sinister force called "ambition" does not pursue you, and then betray you.

It's not by rewards alone that i judge my merit. I know it will remain in me, so long as i persevere. But then, that is what i cannot anymore.
I believed writing was an enduring gift to me. And, whether i bask in the merry ambiance of good times, or perish with disillusion, i would still be able to write.

None of that.

I'm losing my craft. I'm losing my inspiration to work. And, more than anything else, I'm losing that unflagging faith that had escorted me in life.