Old Age and Trunks

I think I am going to have one of those days again, when hardly anything goes right. For one thing, I have to finish at least half of my cover story today, attend this boring Shakespeare class at 6 pm and then go all the way to Dhanmondi where I have to join my friends at Gazi's sister's holud.

Even two years ago, this would have been just any other day. Getting up in the morning, attending a number of classes (let's ignore the bunking period, sitting and moping at Bashori!), going to work, assignments, homework, student activity clubs, exams, shows, phone calls, the plastic smiles and I could go on and on and on. And now, I simply can't manage a day where I can probably count off the things that I need to do on my fingers! I guess this is what you call old age?

I doubt it. I am turning 25 in September 2007, and that’s not really old, is it? Kaushik da says that once you turn 25, you lose track of time and suddenly see yourself as a 40-year-old. Ok now that’s scary!

The days are turning out to be so drab and depressing. Is it because of the heat? I wonder. This heat makes me crazy and mad and makes me want to do crazy things like, cutting my hair off! Now why would that be something crazy??

I have this eerie sensation of this huge trunk, weighing on top of my head, filled with things that I need to sort out before taking the next step. It's getting heavier and heavier by the moment and I don’t know when it will just burst open and spill everything on the ground. Things would get messier. Maybe I should think about fixing and sorting out the trunk as soon as possible, before it becomes all the more unbearable.

Going back to work.

Approaching the Battle Field

I am going to the impossible tonight.

No, I am not going jump off my third floor balcony and see if I can actually pull a Bionic Woman stunt. I don’t think I would scream out loud either, though I really want to. I so wish I could walk all the way to St. Martin’s and just go on walking till my legs get tired.

I am going to get everything back. My sanity, my sense of being, the genuine smile and enthusiasm over anything and everything under the sun.

I don’t think it’s silly to want to fly, sit on a cloud and watch the world down below. I want to believe that there will be world peace and eventually all men and women will be equal and there will be no more wars and we can all chase butterflies and paint flowers and make music. I want to believe in the goodness of mankind.

Curled up on a couch, reading Gone with the Wind in my pajamas and crying with Scarlet O’Hara, eating apples and mangoes from a bowl; its raining outside, making loud splashing sounds while the maid runs outside to get the freshly washed clothes from the line (sounds delicious, like freshly baked cakes!).

I remember brightening up every time I would get a whiff of the wet earth or burning leaves.

I am going to do the impossible tonight. It’s a step towards attaining inner peace. I’ll be getting closer to the spiritual being that keeps slipping away every other day.

I am going to clean my room tonight. God as my witness, no matter how long it takes, I will scrub every inch and throw every unnecessary bit of paper. A good beginning, indeed.