The City of Joy

I had always wanted to visit Kolkata. There are many reasons for it.  From wanting to witness the exuberant and ebullient celebration of Durga Pooja to engulfing myself in the sacredness of Dakhshineshwar or just reconnoitre what magic this city weaves for the man I love.  At the end I did manage to fulfil the last one.

The moment you step on the Bengali soil, the first thing that hits you is the melange of smells in the air. It reminded me of Mumbai, where the air is thick with the sounds and smells.  Upon entering Kolkata you are thrown into a time warp. It is an amalgamation of European, Islamic and Hindu cultures. I was drawn instantly towards the bustling whirlpool of colours, smells and sounds that is Kolkata.

My stay was a short one. Although I did not get the opportunity to explore more of this city, it was enough for me to understand its magic. I walked aimlessly along the streets, tasted the local cuisine and saw the sights like any other normal tourist. I can still taste the sharp, tangy flavour of puchka and the sweetness of mishti doi on my tongue. I can still breathe in the hot, humid air and I can still feel the sun smiling down brightly at me, as if he understood my heart’s elation that I am finally here.

The city of joy is a concoction of opposites. It is a pleasant mixture of a bygone era and the modern age.  Kolkata is like a middle-aged woman with a young heart who eternally hungers for new stories and new loves. Today she has immersed my story and my love inside her. My past and my present are carefully warped inside her. As much I loved seeing the city, there was a certain emptiness inside me. I wanted to explore and the see the city through his eyes, hear through his ears and feel through his heart.  But then the past is an interpretation. The world does not move through time like a straight line instead it moves through us in endless spirals. Hence it was better for me to put the past out of my mind and live in the present.

There is certain kind of sadness I feel when I leave this city. I have fallen in love with Kolkata but I cannot call it home, I cannot belong here.  There is a name for this emotion in Welsh. It is called Hiraeth. It is homesickness for a home which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the grief for the lost places of your past.  Kolkata is special to me in more than one way. It is my city of love. As Shams of Tabriz said, “A life without love is of no account. Don’t ask yourself what kind of love you should seek, spiritual or material, divine or mundane, Eastern or Western. Divisions only lead to more divisions. Love has no labels, no definitions. It is what it is, pure and simple. Love is the water of life. And a lover is a soul of fire! The universe turns differently when fire loves water.”

Mostly because it is his city, and I will always remember it that way.

Finding Acceptance

I truly believe, that only once in our life we come across someone who turns our world upside down, someone who has such a profound impact on you that you can never be the same again. In that sudden flash of realization we dare to be brave and see that love costs everything we are and everything we ever will be. We change so much for the sake of that one person. I changed so much for the sake of that one person. I found myself sharing my deepest desires, goals I could never achieve, my dreams and hopes for the future and all the disappointments life had thrown at me. I was surprised that I had so much hidden inside me. I was a better person then. I am a different person now. With you everything seemed colourful, insignificant things like a song, a note, a walk were invaluable treasures. Laughter seemed a part of daily life. The daily phone calls helped me to get through the long day and made me smile. It is because of you that today I have the confidence that I can paint. I had lost confidence in myself but your encouragement and faith made me take up art again. I was content having you in my life. But you were not and I failed to notice it. This discord and ruin of what was once a beautiful friendship and relationship happened because I couldn't accept what had happened. I had forgotten that I was free to chose but not free enough to escape the consequences of my choice. I was blocked from taking that next step in life because I just refuse to accept everything that had happened.
There is a fine line between love and dysfunction, a distinct difference between passionate and crazy. It is important that we learn to find acceptance. To accept who we are as a person, acceptance of the situation, acceptance of the fact that change is the only constant force in our life. We can only grow when we learn to accept. What we want may not always be what we need.  Accept that everything you love won’t always love you back. Accept that sometimes when you give, you’re giving to somebody who doesn’t know how to receive. They reject you out of their own neglect. I am learning to accept it slowly and allowing myself to open up to new experiences. 
Sometimes the things I am forced to accept cause me pain but its not the end of the world. I have realised that dwelling on certain things won’t do anything but make bad situation worse.Coming to terms with the loss or your situation simply means that you have admitted what has happened and moved on with your life. Acceptance and coming to terms with what happened between us does not mean that I have forgotten you, that I have forgotten what we were to each other. That can never happen. New love does not erase old scars, it does not change the real 'you'. I am still me and I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.  
 

If I never have to see you again....

I f I never have to see you again,
I will always carry you inside me,
Wrapped in my heart,
and immersed in my tears.
If I never have to see you again,
I will always carry you outside me,
your name scrawled in the inside of my thighs,
your scent infused in the curve of my neck,
your touch trailing my spine,
If I never have to see you again,
you will always remain in the centers,
centers of what remains of me....

THE THING

Do you know that feeling? When you have lost something but can’t remember what it was? You are desperately trying to think of it but it won’t come to you. You have said it a million times before and it was always there- right where you left it. But now you can’t recall it. You try and try and make it appear and it almost does. But it never does.

There are times when it surfaces-when I sense it on the tip of my tongue. I feel it struggling inside my chest to burst forth like a beach ball that can only be held beneath the water for so long.

I feel it stirring when someone hurts me. When I smile at a stranger and they don’t smile back. When I trust someone with a secret and they betray me. When someone I admire tells me I am not good enough for them.

I don’t know what it was that I have lost. But I know it was important. I know it once made me happy.

CROSSWORDS

I write to bring you closer. To imagine your fingers trailing on the curve of my neck onto my shoulder. To recall the feel of your lips in the curve of my waist. And how are bodies would fall into each other like words in a crossword puzzle. I write for the raw ache inside me when the ink seeps into the paper-for the bittersweet sorrow which comes from bringing you back.

THREE QUESTIONS

What was it like to love him? Asked Gratitude.

It was like being exhumed, she answered. And brought to life in a flash of light.

What was it like to be loved in return? Asked Joy.

It was like being seen after perpetual darkness, she replied. To be heard after a lifetime of silence.

What was it like to lose him? Asked Sorrow.

There was a long pause before she responded.

It was like hearing every goodbye ever said to me-said all at once.

Weather

You were the unexpected.

I did not expect your effect on my heart,

my mind,

my feelings,

my thoughts,

my dreams.

You were the soothing sound

of the light pitter-patter of a drizzle

on a June Sunday morning

in my brutal destructing hurricane.