07.02.2009.
A silent musing......
Sunday, 8 February 2009
Saturday, 7 February 2009
30.01.2009.
The ‘Storm’
My life was taken over by a ‘Storm’ – literally. It is now a month since I arrived in the North of England. True to my often ambiguous narration my life indeed was taken over by a ‘Storm’. I was for a very very short period of time a proud owner of a Blackberry Storm. Pride soon gave way to prejudice and I realised, the chasm between advanced technology and passé humanity cannot be bridged. Sheepishly I returned the extraordinary gadget to Vodafone and returned to using my faithful, more than half decade old Nokia (it has a KEYPAD!!!!) with arrogant pride.
The Cause of the Because
I arrived in the North of England with a purpose and a lot of baggage. The purpose is to gain higher education. Since my previous attempts (read persecution by Mom & Aunt) at education left me with no more than an acceptable toilet training, my baggage was enormous. Apprehension, dread, jitters, naked fear, cold feet…. foot… toes…. doubt, self-doubt, deep consternation and this crippling suspicion that I’m not myself anymore. Why? ‘Cause with perturbed bewilderment I realize that this once I want to study – not to just somehow pass but to score and score well. I will remain forever grateful to British Airways for not considering this weight as excess baggage.
The Cheshire Cat …. And a grin without the Cat
After nearly a decade I am again a full time student. Given my legendary social grace I should have chosen to live alone right in the beginning. But then again I make mistakes – all the time. I rectified my error in principle and moved into my own house four days after I arrived. I wisely chose a British landlord/lady and must confess I’m delighted with my inversely racist decision. It took me a full weekend to set up house and to say the least I’m riding the ‘Storm’ .....not the Blackberry ;) pretty well. I am a changed man……. I do things (successfully) that would amaze beyond disbelief, people who have known me long enough. For example I can navigate in ASDA or Lydl (British Wal-Mart equivalents) supermarkets and find grocery that I need without being hopelessly lost and irritable. I know that the meat and vegetables on top of the shelves aren’t the freshest. I pay utility bills online. I can write bank cheques without error the first time around. I can survive without a car, living proof that my legs are still good for vertical displacement (Mumma don’t chide me no more for a Princely attitude). I remember to switch of lights and central heating to save on gas & electricity bills. I can actually sit down and study – that realization left me with an overwhelming sense of loss. I always remember to take the key to the main door and haven’t locked myself out … yet. I sit on the first bench….. in every lecture. Apart from these mundane yet unavoidable grinds the settling down process saw me visit the public library and college library for membership, visit the Roman ruins and the cliff side beach (on a cloudy, rainy, windy, freezing -8*C day.... my buddies think I'm demented), walk accross the town camera poised, hunt for.....locate..... check out and happily settle for my favourite pub -' 'The County'.
I love living alone.... well apart from dinner time. I cannot live off ‘Take Away’ meals or Fish’n Chips with salt and vinegar. A well stocked larder and refrigerator is a must for my way of life. My devoted fondness for good food taught me how to cook and cook well. I cook a fair meal every night (I even tried dancing &/or gyrating like some hindi movie hero while I cooked.... not mucho fun though). However I hate having to sit down for supper alone. It invariably reminds me of the ‘Saheb’ and his undead minions from Shirshendu Mukhopadhyay’s ‘Potashgorer Jongoley’.
All of a sudden I have this feeling that this post isn’t turning out the way I wanted it to. The words just aren’t coming through. Ideas flickered past as I sat through the past hour, staring at the luminous screen. Nah….. the ideas simply aren’t converging into meaningful or meaningless sentences. And I haven’t the appetite for a bromidic sentence construction exercise. Trite never appealed to me. I would rather tackle the half bottle of cognac I swore I won’t drink.
Calico days are paving the way for run of the mill journal entries. I have noticed that my emotions find words either when I’m walking the disconsolate climes of the Lord of Cerulean or when overcome with a sense of boundless joy or when propelled by any of the two – I look into my abyss….. and my abyss looks back into me. Why do words elude me when I can claim that I’m content?
Capt. Pundin n Poondin (It just had to be this) ….. He is my or rather everybody’s darling. A thoroughbred sailor having been at ‘It’ for forty seven years – he like most sailors is simple, open, friendly with a gay becoming laughter. His lectures are always a delight, be it the poignant humour or the reminiscent tales from a life at sea. He reminds me of my beloved GrandPa. I am happy to say I adore him … because as a person he is a lot like me.
Miss 2B …. She is cute. Cute in the way she is lost most of the time. I sort of wanted to have a crush on her. But then I’m too old or jaded for crushes I guess.
Capt. Clime (Cheeky me) ….. He is cool. Must give it to him…. The guy’s cool. Otherwise he couldn’t have come to college wearing a trouser that had the zip held in place with a safety pin (never mind the gaps.....or err gapes maybe?) and carry it off with élan. He teaches Meteorology; he is six feet four tall and has the sense of humour to laugh when I asked him – ‘How tall are you…?' And then – 'So how’s the weather up there?' Or the time when he asked in class what we do with liquid nitrogen and I replied – “Terminate the Terminator”. This guy is real cool.
And that more or less brings us to the end of a mile long example of my literary dissatisfaction. Anyone who managed to reach this far deserves a beer and an aspirin.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
