Delhi Days

I didn't vote this year, declaring, "twas too sunny!" To some serious offenders I actually asked, "What has my State given me? What has my country given me?" Thankfully, a dear friend encouraged me from declaring the latter half of the dialogue, the ask. I am a fan of aesthetics, courtesy which, tons of stereotypes have unintentionally left their indelible mark upon me, including classic Bengali movies which have always glorified poverty, and knaashfhools. I felt like a fool when I could not appreciate the thundering "Dada, ami bnaachte chai!" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w8gmWi-PBBY), till I realized well, why should I? I like the background score, but it was not enough to pull me through an entire re-watching of the movie. Brokeback Mountain too. I love Santaolalla enough to have him on my phone (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7fe1dzhY_ps), I cried the first time I watched it, but then, it fizzed out. The length (which is crucial to the movie I believe) could not help me proceed, later.

 

Thus I arrived at a sublime conclusion. Contrary to what I could not have become because I am always bored, I am today, whatever the lump of soul, because I am bored. Naturally, tasteful opulence attracts me over elite academia. Bored I have been with my affairs, my State and in general, the state of affairs. In the truest of sense, I was, on a scale of always and never, I was almost-always disinterested which the nature of things around me. I took way more interest in discovering the taste of a fallen fruit on a dusty road, or opening up the telephone set just out of sheer curiosity. I cherish those moments when my cousin and I actually dropped an exquisite coffee mug he brought me from Malaysia, which said "unbreakable", to find out whether it would break or not (thankfully, it did not). Or, melt a candle all the way to rebuild it and feel like a potter, or, put the tissue paper on fire and enjoy the burning away bits. Given my age, I think I may also be clinically mad!

The last couple of months in Delhi have been very boring -- in the hectic schedules and the unwarranted below par IQ all around. Each time I am about to give up, I smile (madly), and enjoy the failure. There is a smell of survival that is in the air here. I like it. Like I have loved the Warsaw of my dreams and the Manchester of my day-dreams. And lived the love till I grew bored, and moved away, with the ease of a feather. Chords that move to crescendo and cut short our breath. I am blamed of being bored too easily, but now I am happy that I am bored. It makes me look forward, the worst has happened. 

Delhi days are full of laughter. I laugh within myself, at what I left, at where I will go, when things will turn and how they will roll. I laugh because I am bored of the below par IQ, I laugh because I am a part of it, the Delhi Daze.