I have things to say to you. But you are not here. So I've just been left to think them, and not say them. You know me, I can't keep quiet. I have to say, not just think, it's almost compulsive.
There's a You-shaped hole in my life that I can't quite seem to fill. I have tried. I have also never been so hurt in my life before.
I let you in. That was my fault. And I let you become important. That's on me as well.
It galls me.
Almost every other day, I miss you. I think of something, I want to call you and tell you about. I eat a piece of food I think you will just love. I read a book that I want to recommend to you.
How is it possible you don't miss me at all? Why is there no Me-shaped hole in your life? Was I so dispensable? So easily replaced or forgotten or discarded?
She seems hurt as well, I don't know that she has the space in her head to be as hurt as I am. She's always been better at cutting off than I am. But she is hurt, this much I know.
Maybe at the back of my head I'm thinking, you will read this. And then at least you will know how I feel. But then at the back of my head I also know that you've stopped reading, stopped caring. So you won't ever know.
It's been nearly two years since things went rocky. And if I'm being honest, they were bad for quite a while before that. We never came back from the time that you abandoned me when she did. She and I came back. You and I never did.
Somewhere I think, I was just a convenience. I loved her, you loved her, so you took me on because I came with the package. Now that I think about it, there was never anything special about you and me, no timeless bond, not according to you at least.
I don't do this, I'm not this girl. I dislike this vulnerability, this flowery, precious writing in whimsical verses. I am coarse and angry, and always protected by my own paranoia, bulwarked against all manner of emotional pain.
And yet this has pierced through all of that. I can not believe I have allowed this to happen. How could I?
I just told someone that this is my attempt to unburden, this touchy feely letter to the internet, so I that I am not some bitter, jaded shrew somewhere down the line.
I am already that, aren't I?
I felt indifferent before, but now I am a mixture of angry and upset. Deeply angry and deeply upset.
I should be used to people going away by now, 'Life sucks and then you die', right? Everybody else left, why should you be any different.
You are different, you were one of very very few, one of my own, my people.
When I left you, for a little while, I told you why, I let you know how much I loved you. You just stopped responding, stopped calling. Do you even know how long it's been since we've spoken?
You just disappeared as if I wasn't even worthy or deserving of a goodbye and a reason.
I don't know what else to say. I know these feelings will subside, will abate, all in given time. And the You-shaped hole will be papered over with other things, with scabs and daily routine. I know that this will one day just be another fact of my life, like my giant feet and my brown eyes. That in itself is a painful fact.
Honestly, I really did not think that it would all end this way. Or end at all.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Udaipur
NOTE: THIS POST WAS WRITTEN MOSTLY IN DECEMBER AND IS ONLY BEING PUT UP NOW DUE TO REASONS OF IDIOCY. I APOLOGIZE PROFUSELY FOR THE QUALITY OF WRITING.
Normally, I do not enjoy travelling. My idea of a vacation involves room service and a flat screen television. The larger the pool of humanity I have to encounter, the lesser the amount of fun I can be expected to have. For this reason, I avoid tourist destinations, I avoid holidays in which I have to have a detailed itinerary, with lists of things to do and places to go. When out of town, I like to take a relaxed tour of sights and sounds. My must travel places do not include night life and large monuments. The entire time I spent in London, I did not visit the London Eye once, despite living right across the Thames from it. When I went to Geneva, I did not go to a cheese factory or a ski lodge, I visited the UNHCR and ICRC headquarters. In Edinburgh, I spent most of my time in the National Portrait Gallery and the pub right next to my hostel, and maybe 2 hours at the Edinburgh castle.
For the last 2 months, I have waited for December the 8th to arrive, so my friend AV and I could leave town for the wedding of our colleague and close personal friend,....let's say ST. It was to be my first out of town wedding, my first full Hindu wedding experience, and my first time in Rajasthan. As the title suggests, the wedding took place in Udaipur, Rajasthan, widely considered one of the most beautiful tourist spots in the world. Which is also the reason I was filled with a tiny bit of apprehension. December in India is wedding season, particularly in North India. I was warned in advance that the city would be bursting at the seams with wedding revellers, as well as a surplus of the usual tourist crowd, December also being a holiday month.
By the time the 8th had arrived, my friend AV had fallen quite ill, and had to refrain from going on the trip. Which left me, my bags packed, standing at the Bandra Terminus in Mumbai city, ready to board a train that would deposit in Udaipur at the end of nearly 17 hours. I had been prepared for how cold it would be in Udaipur. So there I stood, at 11 AM on a Thursday at the tiny Udaipur station, waiting to be picked up while wrapped in a scarf and my ratty old pullover. From there, it was onto the festivities.
I'm not sure how many of you have been to a traditional Indian wedding, be it Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jain, Sikh or Parsi. I'm sure weddings in every part of the world are elaborate. Indian weddings, however, are long (often lasting days or even weeks) and filled to the brim with rituals. I come from a non-traditional family and had, until this time, not been exposed to the full array of ceremonies that accompany a Hindu wedding. Let me tell you, it is quite the experience. Every single ceremony has hosts of aunts, uncles, neighbours and friends offering what they believe to be the absolute right advice about how things need to be done. In fact, random passers by, staff at the hall where the wedding is taking place, musicians who are being paid to play at the wedding and the cooks that are catering the event will all also feel absolutely free to jump in and lecture the parents of the bride on the right way to perform a ritual. It's a giant free-for-all.
ST's parents and sister spend the entire wedding weekend rushing from one spot to another, performing duty after duty, taking care of the most minute of details and generally doing their best to not resemble chickens with their heads cut off. Her poor sister had so much to do, in fact, that she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, which to be fair, was probably true. The bride and the groom, in the meanwhile, spent most of their time smiling broadly at everything that was said to them, in a daze. Everyone felt the need to stop and make some bawdy remark or the other, or make at least one comment on babies.
I know I am making this sound like it's some terrible thing I am trying to describe, when it is actually the opposite. I am merely attempting to paint a picture of the chaos that weddings bring. In the midst of it, you also feel the warmth of family, the tears of not only the parents at their children's joy, but also of the assorted relatives, who all believe that happiness in the family is happiness for themselves. That's one thing that I missed while I lived abroad, the sense of extended family. The day I get married, my uncles and aunts will be as moved as my own mother. Family doesn't stop at Mom and Dad in India, cousins, uncles, grandaunts and nieces are all integral to weddings.
My friend, ST meanwhile, was shockingly calm, like an unwavering flame in a raging storm. She sat quietly through all the ceremonies, the heavy clothing and jewellery weighing her down. She smiled and laughed at the jokes and the slightly absurd rituals she had to perform. She strode confidently through the reception, greeting friends and introducing her husband to them. She played with babies and received blessings from all the elders present. She even took time to enjoy some food. If and when my time ever comes, you can fully expect me to lock myself in a room, refusing to leave it, and demanding that plates of food be pushed under the door.
After all the wedding stuff was done, I still had half a day to kill, which led me to doing a touristy thing, after all. I visited the Udaipur City Palace. The Palace belongs to the royal family of Udaipur, the Mewars, who run it as a museum. From the City Palace, the famed Lake Palace of Udaipur is also visible, although us mere mortals are no longer allowed to stroll through it.
I love museums. They are giant repositories of information. And if it weren't for the hundreds of shoving tourists, the dozens of screaming infants and toddlers being dragged places by their annoying parents and the smilingly aggressive tour guides, I would have enjoyed myself much, much more. I did get to learn a ton of interesting stuff about the city and the royal family, and the history that surrounds the utterly lovely Udaipur.
After that, my travelling companion chose to race off the some famous temple or the other, while I begged off to enjoy myself in my own way, strolling through the bazaars at my own leisure, not really buying anything. From then on, it was back to the train station, and another 17 hour journey. As Mumbai came into view from my window seat on the train, my heart jumped just a little bit at the realization that I had begun to consider the city home. The feeling lasted barely a second, as I jumped off the train and disappeared quickly into the beaming, bustling chaos.
Normally, I do not enjoy travelling. My idea of a vacation involves room service and a flat screen television. The larger the pool of humanity I have to encounter, the lesser the amount of fun I can be expected to have. For this reason, I avoid tourist destinations, I avoid holidays in which I have to have a detailed itinerary, with lists of things to do and places to go. When out of town, I like to take a relaxed tour of sights and sounds. My must travel places do not include night life and large monuments. The entire time I spent in London, I did not visit the London Eye once, despite living right across the Thames from it. When I went to Geneva, I did not go to a cheese factory or a ski lodge, I visited the UNHCR and ICRC headquarters. In Edinburgh, I spent most of my time in the National Portrait Gallery and the pub right next to my hostel, and maybe 2 hours at the Edinburgh castle.
For the last 2 months, I have waited for December the 8th to arrive, so my friend AV and I could leave town for the wedding of our colleague and close personal friend,....let's say ST. It was to be my first out of town wedding, my first full Hindu wedding experience, and my first time in Rajasthan. As the title suggests, the wedding took place in Udaipur, Rajasthan, widely considered one of the most beautiful tourist spots in the world. Which is also the reason I was filled with a tiny bit of apprehension. December in India is wedding season, particularly in North India. I was warned in advance that the city would be bursting at the seams with wedding revellers, as well as a surplus of the usual tourist crowd, December also being a holiday month.
By the time the 8th had arrived, my friend AV had fallen quite ill, and had to refrain from going on the trip. Which left me, my bags packed, standing at the Bandra Terminus in Mumbai city, ready to board a train that would deposit in Udaipur at the end of nearly 17 hours. I had been prepared for how cold it would be in Udaipur. So there I stood, at 11 AM on a Thursday at the tiny Udaipur station, waiting to be picked up while wrapped in a scarf and my ratty old pullover. From there, it was onto the festivities.
I'm not sure how many of you have been to a traditional Indian wedding, be it Hindu, Muslim, Christian, Jain, Sikh or Parsi. I'm sure weddings in every part of the world are elaborate. Indian weddings, however, are long (often lasting days or even weeks) and filled to the brim with rituals. I come from a non-traditional family and had, until this time, not been exposed to the full array of ceremonies that accompany a Hindu wedding. Let me tell you, it is quite the experience. Every single ceremony has hosts of aunts, uncles, neighbours and friends offering what they believe to be the absolute right advice about how things need to be done. In fact, random passers by, staff at the hall where the wedding is taking place, musicians who are being paid to play at the wedding and the cooks that are catering the event will all also feel absolutely free to jump in and lecture the parents of the bride on the right way to perform a ritual. It's a giant free-for-all.
ST's parents and sister spend the entire wedding weekend rushing from one spot to another, performing duty after duty, taking care of the most minute of details and generally doing their best to not resemble chickens with their heads cut off. Her poor sister had so much to do, in fact, that she looked like she hadn't slept in weeks, which to be fair, was probably true. The bride and the groom, in the meanwhile, spent most of their time smiling broadly at everything that was said to them, in a daze. Everyone felt the need to stop and make some bawdy remark or the other, or make at least one comment on babies.
I know I am making this sound like it's some terrible thing I am trying to describe, when it is actually the opposite. I am merely attempting to paint a picture of the chaos that weddings bring. In the midst of it, you also feel the warmth of family, the tears of not only the parents at their children's joy, but also of the assorted relatives, who all believe that happiness in the family is happiness for themselves. That's one thing that I missed while I lived abroad, the sense of extended family. The day I get married, my uncles and aunts will be as moved as my own mother. Family doesn't stop at Mom and Dad in India, cousins, uncles, grandaunts and nieces are all integral to weddings.
My friend, ST meanwhile, was shockingly calm, like an unwavering flame in a raging storm. She sat quietly through all the ceremonies, the heavy clothing and jewellery weighing her down. She smiled and laughed at the jokes and the slightly absurd rituals she had to perform. She strode confidently through the reception, greeting friends and introducing her husband to them. She played with babies and received blessings from all the elders present. She even took time to enjoy some food. If and when my time ever comes, you can fully expect me to lock myself in a room, refusing to leave it, and demanding that plates of food be pushed under the door.
After all the wedding stuff was done, I still had half a day to kill, which led me to doing a touristy thing, after all. I visited the Udaipur City Palace. The Palace belongs to the royal family of Udaipur, the Mewars, who run it as a museum. From the City Palace, the famed Lake Palace of Udaipur is also visible, although us mere mortals are no longer allowed to stroll through it.
I love museums. They are giant repositories of information. And if it weren't for the hundreds of shoving tourists, the dozens of screaming infants and toddlers being dragged places by their annoying parents and the smilingly aggressive tour guides, I would have enjoyed myself much, much more. I did get to learn a ton of interesting stuff about the city and the royal family, and the history that surrounds the utterly lovely Udaipur.
After that, my travelling companion chose to race off the some famous temple or the other, while I begged off to enjoy myself in my own way, strolling through the bazaars at my own leisure, not really buying anything. From then on, it was back to the train station, and another 17 hour journey. As Mumbai came into view from my window seat on the train, my heart jumped just a little bit at the realization that I had begun to consider the city home. The feeling lasted barely a second, as I jumped off the train and disappeared quickly into the beaming, bustling chaos.
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