Tujhse hi ruthana re, tujhe hi manaana, tera mera naata koi duja na jaana

কেটেছে একেলা বিরহের বেলা আকাশকুসুমচয়নে।
সব পথ এসে মিলে গেল শেষে তোমার দুখানি নয়নে॥

Well, it’s been ages since I last indulged myself in the pleasures of buying books. Many an unfinished novel lies across my unkempt and almost broken table. Some with a dog ear and some with bookmarks slashed in, are patiently waiting for their turn to be labelled as ‘finished reading’. Every night when I perch my head out of this heavy blanket, I can see the glimpse of green that is there on the cover of The Hungry Tide. As far as I remember I had been a lover of reading books. I still am but I regret not reading since long.

Due to some office work, I had to visit Select Citywalk in the evening. Once the work was finished I had this stupid urge to eat something. Undecided about what to eat I was strolling around with many a thoughts playing games inside my head. Ignoring my hunger cramps I entered Pantaloons knowing that I won’t buy anything even when I would definitely like many a things there.

It was a phone call that just ruined every bit of my quite a happy mood. I was visibly irritated and fuming with anger. People are never quite satisfied with you ever. No matter how much efforts you put in, what counts is what you didn't do. Even when it was not your duty to do it. And these days I just find it hard to rely on people. I have recoiled myself so much that if I don’t uncoil myself soon enough, I would break. What’s hurting me most is the feeling that I am becoming insensitive towards things. Now I don’t cry. Much. And that hurts the most. Why? Why? Why, the hell am not crying like before. See I want to. But I don’t. My one of the greatest fears is to grow insensitive towards things, matters, feelings, emotions and people. I want my heart to feel. It should be alive and throbbing. Always. I want my heart to beat louder. The silence these days kind of kills me. What I seriously want is ‘chaos’ at its full volume.

It was my good old Crosswords that preserved my sanity today. Books. After a long time, I had my ‘me time’ with the books today. I already have so many unfinished novels and it actually was not a smart idea to spend on books. Still I went ahead. With the hope that may be this step would alter my otherwise insipid life. I not only have to ‘move on’ but to 'move ahead’ also. Whatever has been left unfinished can be finished later on. If not, then let them be. But those unfinished novels should never clip my wings and stop me from flying high to some other worlds. Worlds that could only be explored by diving deep in the pages of the books I bought. Who knows I might just start writing again. No, not like before but much better than ever. 

Enough of stupid philosophy and reasoning. To put it straight and simple may be this is just a failed attempt to distract myself from the thoughts of.... Do pray that I succeed. I am tired of my moist eyes. You stupid water droplets, damn, either you shed yourself or just go away and dry. Don’t just bug me by welling up time and again.

In case you care, I bought, 'My Name is Red', 'The Museum of Innocence' and 'One Amazing Thing' today. Confused which one to start first, I gave in myself to write this stupid post. Yes, this is yet another failed attempt to write again. I have so many profound, deep and beautiful thoughts in my head that if I ever succeed in writing them, I am sure they will be a masterpiece each. I hate this feeling when my thoughts like a lump in throat refuse to move from it's place. It almost chokes me and leaves me panting for breath. My thoughts refuse to turn into written words. They keep on churning inside my head, heart and soul and derive a goddamn pleasure in torturing me.

But my chase for my lost Muse is still on. And the race is about to reach it's finishing line. I know, the winner will be Me. I have a feeling that the day is not far when my masterpieces will be there in front of me. Inscribed in my own handwriting. I will read them. Again and again. Write them and then will rewrite them. No, I don't have any desires of being famous, or a writer. I don't even expect you or for that matter anyone to read them. I can see many of you smirk at the word MASTERPIECES. But it doesn't matter anymore. I have left blogging for others a long time back. It's not blogging anymore. It's more of talking to self. It's to let my heart do some talking.

But you know, I know you would always find your way back to my blog, time and again. Waiting desperately to read an update. Sifting endlessly through my archive. Reading each line twice. Stopping at the word 'You'and pondering "is this 'you' me?" Tilting your head and smiling a little. Pressing you lips and crying a little. With a cup of Darjeeling cha or a cigarette? Taking a trip to down memory lane that we spent together. Dreaming of a future that we just couldn't spend in each other's custody...holding hands and then in arms. The kiss. The Bliss. Even the fights and arguments.

Know that I would always skip a beat each day and dedicate it to you. For your well-being,happiness and success. Know that even when the circuits of my brain are all out of place but my heart still beats. For I may be a crazy, silly and in short a stupid girl but my soul is pure and well ahead of time. And my heart is still intact.