Dear Kunj,
Leaving was the easy part. Now what? What am I supposed to do now?
Bought a house. Couldn't sleep in it for two whole days, the quite was harrowing. So do you know what genius me did? I slept in the train. Woke up to find my purse stolen. But hey, that was the best sleep I had in days.
I didn't appreciate my purse being stolen, it hardly contained anything significant but it was my favorite one! Well I think I have got to learn to sleep in my own house now, I guess. But the silence was still unnerving. It echoed my depressed thoughts and that was something I didn't want to hear anymore. A light bulb idea lit my brain once again. This time I purchased a TV, DVD player and endless series of F.R.I.E.N.D.S, SpongeBob Square Pants, DDLJ and some miscellaneous others. Popped the CD in, and slept in the white noise of Monica yelling in the background.
I am learning things I never knew before. Things like it is okay to eat alone in a crowded caf, and like it's okay to go to the cinema all by yourself. I also learned important things like paying the bills, the tax and other things that were so far handled by the men of the house. Oh, I changed the pipe in the shower today! Felt very accomplishing. This little task for some reason made me smile. These are my good days.
Other days, I refuse to come out of my apartment for days on end. And it's not that I do something productive while holed up inside. Nope! All I do is curl up in a fetal position on the floor of the living room and dream of the could haves and would haves. These are my bad days.
But I survive them. I have survived worse, haven't I?
Third consecutive day inside and I realize that I really needed to buy some furniture. I can't sleep on the floor for the rest of my life! I looked around the apartment to make a list of things that I would need to buy. Turns out I needed everything except a TV and DVD player.
Well this is what my life has been reduced to- a bare house, a cardboard full of memories and a suitcase of clothes. And yet it is exhilarating instead of being depressing. It something new, something untouched by the corrupt emotions of us humans, something pure. My house.
I calculate the amount of paint needed using the internet and borrowed meter tape. Not much paint was required but a lot of refrain was. It was hard to convince myself to forgo the blue paint. I dug my nails in the palm of my hand to stop myself from reaching the blue canister of paint. Beige would look better on the walls, I told myself. Plus it's more versatile. Furniture would be delivered in a day. I was looking forward to assemble it on my own.
I think it was me being symbolic of assembling my life again too. Just maybe.
The old lady across from my apartment is sweet. It was her grand-daughter's birthday and she so kindly sent over a serving of cake to me. I reciprocated by sending over some Dal Makhani and Roti. She loved it. She told me so, when I was off to work the other day.
Oh yeah, I found myself a job. It's a good position. Meet Twinkle, assistant consultant at a reputable architectural firm. It provides me with a decent salary and I am glad for that. I love my job. It's a place where I feel more than a wife, a daughter, or a daughter in law. My colleagues are great. They keep inviting me over for a drink or two but that's not something I am yet comfortable with. They don't mind.
Hey Kunj, it's 18th October. Our Anniversary! And for the first time in five-years I didn't celebrate it. Don't know how I feel about this yet. But I found myself watching silly Rom-Coms, crying myself to sleep.
19th October and I pretend like nothing happened.
I don't know about things anymore. Life has started to feel meaningless again. Winter blues, perhaps but the feeling isn't good. Everything feels stuffy and stagnant.
I lost count of the times I picked up the phone with the intention of calling you. Just a hello, all I needed to hear was a hello in your voice. But I can't. I know a hello from you and I would come running back there. So I put the phone back, distract myself with work. It worked apparently. I got promoted.
Ab, vacation toh banta hai na? I made chits of 10 destinations I would like to visit most. Thailand won. Met a guy on the flight, casually flirted. He seemed like a good guy, knew his limits. Didn't see him after that. Bangkok was good. Can I tell you a secret, I felt like Rani from Queen. But I had fun.
I made a friend today. I was sitting alone in the caf and so was she. I guess she wasn't used to eating alone, so she asked if she could join me. I accepted. What did I have to lose anyway? She was really nice, a divorcee and single mother. But happy. Our friendship was ephemeral. She was just visiting the city for a while. We exchanged Facebook names but you know friendships don't work like that. And soon she was just another name in my contact list as I was for her.
It got me thinking, what if something happened to me now? Who would come up to identify my body? Would I be like one of those Jane Does? Should I write a letter asking them to return the remains of my body back to Amritsar? Would you want me back?
I want to come back.
The other day, I was grocery shopping and I thought I saw you in the cigarette aisle. And silly me, I marched over there, grabbed the poor man by his collar and yelled at him for smoking. It was after I had finished my 10 minute lecture that I realized that it wasn't you. In my defense, I was sleep deprived. But the guy smile at me, said that maybe I was right.
Kunj, sometimes I can't sleep at night. And I stare at the popped corn ceiling of my bedroom thinking how did it all go so bad? Kab Kunj? Kab? When did things turn so sour that here I am away from you all, seeking answering in a room that stifles me at times. A few tears escape the confines of my eyes but I have given up wiping them away. They are just too many tears to wipe away. I often find myself wishing on the glow in the dark stars stuck on the ceiling, wishing to take me back to the times when it was all okay. The times when we all were happy. Do you remember those days? I do.
I hate Christmas. It's just too many people dressed as Santa Claus and just a lot of heart ache for me. I volunteer to work over time in the office, while others take the day off to celebrate with family. But I can hear the merry jingles even on the 25th floor of my office and I run to the window trying to catch a glimpse of Ma.
I wait for the tears to come. But they don't.
I cut a small cupcake alone, in my apartment in celebration!
Der lagi, par maine jeena seekh liya.
Sincerely,
From Twinkle
To Kunj
Through a letter unsent.
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Kabhi Neem Neem Kabhi Shahad Shahad
