mera kuch saaman tumhare pass pada hai....

I cant be too sure but I think this is it, we have finally broken up this time around.. I feel this because for once he too has decided and seems to be sticking with it.....

We are still friends… good friends actually, thanks to him. that week I just didnt want to ever have anything to do with him, but he made sure that we stuck through that.

Though it was a mutual decision, i was the initiator.... we had a talk about it yesterday – the break up – as much as he can talk about such things that is & we spoke about how he would be married in 2 years & how I thought his wife would be jealous of me……its real easy to be the victim.. compared to being the one who fired the gun…. I know I will be alone for much longer than him.. if not forever that is….. & possible never wear the bangla saree I wanted to and that hurts. Of course I understand that he will move on…….

A small weak part of me hopes that when he is well & ready to get married he asks me… I do not know what I will say, but I want the chance to say yes, if I feel like it & I most probably will never ask him for the chance…. Its always been his role…

We were going through which songs to record for my class project so I read him some of my choices – mera kuch saman, main bhool jaon tumhe& hazaron khwahishen aise… that’s how the discussion started off actually.

Today I was reading up something on wonder years & I came across this – “Growing up happens in a heartbeat. One day you're in diapers; next day you're gone. But the memories of childhood stay with you for the long haul. I remember a place...a town...a house like a lot of other houses... A yard like a lot of other yards...on a street like a lot of other streets. And the thing is...after all these years, I still look back...with wonder” I will too…. wonder

I will probably never cry-cry on this, but the scar will always be sensitive – I wanted to do so many things with him…..I wanted to be the one he came home to tell the good news & bad. I wanted to be the one with whom his father sided with in arguments… I wanted to be the one to gang up on him with his sister, I wanted to cry in his arms when my father passed on. I wanted to speak to him in bangla…… there was / is so much there……..

Yesterday we spoke a bit about what it meant to us, he said he wanted to go & work as an expat (on some level I know this is a desire to start afresh & forget the dreams he had seen of us together, though moving always helps, but I wanted to tell him that he wouldn’t be able to forget it…. It was hard wired into his brain now & unless he lost all his memory, these last years will always remain – but I didn’t see the point of doing it, he had to figure that one out for his own self. Also lets not forget, its our first love, it wasn’t great or poetic or even particularly romantic, but it was still love) We spoke about how he would never share this – the relationship & break up with anyone & that I wouldn’t either. He spoke about returning the stuff I had given him, I brushed it off. I wanted to know what else I could have done differently to learn from all of this, he said he learnt that he would have at least a year long engagement. He said that when I told him I was happier with others, he knew this was the end. I wanted to deny it, but it was true in a small way wasn’t it.

I said I did not regret it, he went round the bush on that one as well as if I had left any scars on him. He said that whatever we say when we are angry, is normally the truth & I asked if all the things that he had said in anger were too….. he avoided that as well… I think it’s a half truth, some of it was real.

Ek sau solha chand ki raten, ek tumhare kandhe ka til,
geeli mehndi ki khusboo,
jooth mooth ke shikwe kuch, sab yaad karado…….. aur mujhe bhulna sikhado…

Musings (to be read as ramblings) in space

I think blogging has become so very popular because there is so much that we want to say but largely out of fear of some kind or another (in my case it is predominantly the fear of being quoted out of context *** will explain at the end of the post) we dont really want to share with the ppl that we 'actually' know. & Blogging permits anonymity.

A large part of me wishes that nobody ever reads my blogs... they are not written to be read they are written to express an emptiness. I know that this emptiness is an inherent flaw of mine..Not friends not marriage not children not parents... no one can really fill it up. & I have often found that expressing something painful can reduce its intensity... so by typing a few words in 'never never cyber space' I breath a few breaths not weighed down with heaviness.

But a small part of me also wishes that my blogs are read.... I cant really say why, maybe because of my instinctive desire to be 'on stage.' ...... Classic approach-approach conflict ehh...

*** Almost all the ppl I know including me have a tendancy of universalising something that is said - most ppl do not realise that nothing is final - e.g - I dont smoke generally but that in no way means that that I will never smoke or that I have never smoked... but if i said this to my family it wld be an all permanent thing..... There are times when I do not feel empty and times when I do... there are times when i really do not want to talk... none of these are all truth all false... they are just truth's or lies for the moment

.....Ik ajanabi jhonke ne puchaa, mere gham kaa sabab
saharaa ki bheegii ret maine likhaa.................awargi

Philosophy of the silly TV show

I was watching this reality show on TV yesterday, where they lock up a bunch of celebrities in ahouse & take away all the outside interaction, take away their books, their computers & all other forms of entertainment or occupation & they have to vote others out of the house & who ever lasts the longest wins...... They are filmed the entire time & idotic voyers like me watch (sometimes)

Now women & men are funny... apparently the boys arent really helping out much & one of the girls who cooks dislikes this but still insists on doing all teh cooking for everyone. Another girl looks for hidden intentions in all comments, situations, glances, etc.

The men r a lot more gaurded & MUCH less vocal about their disliked roomies. I wonder why the women bitch so much publicly.... I mean among other things since u know that everything is being recorded, wouldnt some amount of descrition be advisable. Absolutely no adult can be so idiotic!!!!

So either it has to be planned as in rigged or it has to be rigged. Also who would find out the truth if u lied - At worst ppl will call u diplomatic - buts that no insult.

The thing that caught my attention really was that one of the girls was asked what does she see for herself in ref to this show & the future - 'For however long i am here - till the time I get voted out be it a this week or a 10 others - I want to leave with the same amount of self respect & dignity that I walked in with.' or something to that effect.

If someone asked me what was my last thought before going to a new place, a party, a new job meetinga new person - I hope for this - it might not be much, but it still is.

a 100 desires......

ashique sabr talab, aur tamanna betab.......
dil ka kya rang karun khun-e-jigar hone tak.

aah ko chahiye ek umr asar hone tak,
kaun jeeta hai teri zulf ke sar hone tak

Crack in the wall

I think I broke up yesterday.... This has happened a few times before so I cant be sure... but a part of me hopes that it is a permenant & another part hopes its not.....

How did I get here?.... Not in the sense of breaking up but to this point where I actually have an ego... I never had one.... But these days... I just wont call... inspite of the fact that I know its atleast partly if not totally my fault...........

How did I get to this place where it doesnt even really hurt to say to good bye... it hurts but not enough to bring a tear to my eye........

I wonder if all relationships get to this point....... but most importantly how does one avoid it.... I tried everything thats possible.. I ensured we had space, communication, together time, stayed friends, we sacrificed...... I think we pretty much did everything that all the guru's recommend and yet we are where everyone else is....

I hope I had friends to talk to... but then we would have made a total fool of ourselves in front of ppl if we had shared every fight we had......I had & have no intention of making a spectacle of myself.. like some of the other couples do......Still I hope I cld take advice from someone.....

Strangely i do not wnat to go back to the times when it was so good..... I want to fast forward to the days when his memory is like the dry rose petal in my note book... more fragrant then every but still dry.......

I wonder how i will recall when I see him with his wife.... will it hurt? & if yes how much.. I am pretty sure that I will continue to be alone even then.. how will it really feel seeing him converse with her in bengali like a couple... something that has been my deepest desire for the last 3 yrs....
I guess it will hurt like crap...

What will I go home & do that day......will I have my parent to go home to & will they have turned into a memory just like him?

Anyone outthere who can help me out with some of these answers & also how to dull the pain, do post me a reply...

I expect I will continue to blog on this subject for a while, considering the impact it has on my life....

......Chalo ek baar phir se ajnabi ban jayen hum dono........

Since this is my 1st post.... I figure I should explain why orange whispers...... because i think this describes me.....ideally if whispers had any colour it would be white... but my musings tend to be very loud, boisterous and passionate, hence the 'orange'...

So u would ask why 'whispers'... because they are so intimate.. so personal ... so treasured.. almost breakable... and if thoughts were delicate they would be 'whispers'.......hence the name.

Blogging is like mooning to an unknown audience ta night..... the thrill of exposing something that is so personal to u & with the assurance of anonymity.....