Notes from a living room: 2

Time stops at a few places


Finishing a story after working four years on it makes you nostalgic, that too, at an extent where you tend to remind things from the past that were minute, and when you look back, they sort of make you smile in a way and makes you realise that the world is much bigger for only one person or one life to understand it fully.

As a matter of fact, I was thinking in my mind of a few things, and came across a series of happenings where my life has stopped and has remained in those moments just like that, and will remain there forever. It's like the time has stopped there. Just like Ruskin Bond once wrote, 'Time stops at Shamli'. I can remember a few, and am describing here for giving you examples.

I still remember the first time in class five at my hostel when I fell ill, that day I didn't go to the school, and stayed at the Bhavan (Hostel building). And in the semi-consciousness of fever and sleep, I could smell the smoke that was coming from a nearby garden where old leaves were burning. That smell, that smoke has remained with me forever. Whenever I get a smoke of burning of leaves, it reminds me of that day of my illness and that semi-consciousness of my sleep.

Another interesting happening, I just found out while listening to a song today, 'Kuch Kuch Hota Hai'. It reminded me of the first time I listened to the song. It was at my ancestral place. I returned from a prize distribution ceremony and was awarded the first prize for painting in my school. I took out the water colour and started painting as soon as I reached home. That moment, while painting, I heard that song of love for the first time, and it remained with me forever. It also reminds me now how I and my sister used to take notes of the lyrics of songs which used to come hovering in the air from nearby houses at our ancestral place. Life has changed a lot since then. And I don't regret.


Or should I tell you about that oldest friend of mine with whom I used to play in the afternoons at Contai, and when I became second in the science talent exam from the district, he started envying me and went away. That oldest friend of mine, hasn't come back since, irrespective of all my initiations.

Time stops at a place near a Shiva temple here at Kolkata when I think about a few moments I stood beside Pallabi. I confess, we didn't talk that much. Not that we used to on the first place. There was nothing between us so that one could call us 'friends', that way. But still, something I found within her, that I couldn't forget and won't be able to. As a matter of fact, I respect her decisions and ready to give my fate a chance.



...And there are so many stories to tell. I wish I had someone special with whom I could share these stories, but alas...I do not. How I wish someone had sat beside me and looked me in the eye while I said these things and we laughed together, but sadly so, it's not happening. Funny old world.


Another important thing, I am not writing stories any more, atleast not for a few months. I will come back time and again to write these notes, that's all. Sometimes writers need a break from the hassles of the world of words, only if you know what I mean.


-17th August, '11