Saturday, June 22, 2013

Of Changes

In another five months, I will be letting go of nearly most things dear to me. For the first time in all these years will I live away from my family. I will have to let go of my carefully chosen pink-coloured room. My old cupboard, which still has remains of posters I used to stick on it as a teenager. I will have to let go of my Kudghat house, where I grew up, nearly fractured my skull, learned how to play the harmonium and watched old Bengali movies on the television set. I will have to let go of my precious terrace, which was my special zone all through my growing up days. This is where I learned to dream and soothe my pains. This is where I fed the birds and watched clouds float above me. I used the terrace as my study zone, where not a single page was turned without darting at crows. I will leave all the chalk marks behind, they will continue to reminisce of the childish games I played on the terrace. I will have to let go of the plants I potted long ago. They all bear flowers now, all smelling of my childhood dreams.
I will leave my extended family too. The tales of how old and respected our house is in the neighbourhood… of how people from far away would come to be part of our Kali Pujo and Durga Pujo. I will also have to let go of the numerous old shops of the locality… the affable shopkeepers who saw me transform over the ages.
I will let go of my dear old city. The rain-drenched streets and the lush green trees. I will let go of my favourite structure, Victoria Memorial. I will let go of all the pavements, which hold so many memories. Memories of long walks, of shared happy moments, of secretly held hands.
I will let go of all the unbearable summer afternoons giving way to cool evenings. I will let go of the pleasant spring mornings, of the beautiful winter days. 
Durga Puja will be reduced to a quick two-day trip to Calcutta. It will no longer be preceded with the one month long impatient wait. Kali Puja, with its bright fireworks and fun with cousins, will most probably be given a miss. 
In a few months, I will leave my school para and my college para behind.
I will learn how to live without my mother. How to not expect maach bhaat every night I return home for dinner. How not to be woken up by her every morning. How not to have her by my side always. I will have to let go of my habit of being with Mamma every single day of my life.
I will, however, carry with me the person most dear to me. I will be leaving behind all the physical bonds I have had for so many years with this city. Filled with hurt and anger for so long, I finally am able to see the reason. The reason why My Appa is no longer just flesh and blood to me. When I will leave everything behind to start something new… I will carry only one person along with me. My Appa will travel with me in my heart.


Somnath Seal said...

I can relate every line with me … I left Kharagpur and then my very own Kolkata … I know the pain of leaving the root.

debarati chakraborty said...

yes... the pain of separation is unparalleled...

Anonymous said...

Bombay is a potent drug. with or without the lover. with or without family. with or without a past. with or without stained memory. Bombay is an inflection point.

debarati chakraborty said...

ahh... Anonymous knows where I might be headed! and yes, I've heard this about Mumbai... let's see.

Sharmi Ghosh Dastidar said...

I know this feeling Debu!! Kemon ekta heartache hocchey kintu mukhey kichu boltey parchish na...

debarati chakraborty said...

I know you can relate Sharmi... :)

Ravi E said...

Moving post Debbie. Gave me a few insights into you as a person which I never would have discovered otherwise.

P.S - You write really well!

debarati chakraborty said...

Hey Ravi! Thanks for the read and the comment. Am glad you liked it.

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