Friday, 21 November 2008

Dur saalaa, bhaallaage naa.

dur saalaa! aar bhaallaage naa!

Sometimes one feels that inarticulate nagging discomfort that pokes and prods and just makes one feel sick. Like a physical ailment. For me, it's more like a terminal disease. Ma tells me that it's because my room is a mess and if I tidied up, I'd feel much better and promptly attain nirvana. Nilanjan tells me it's because I don't study consistently and if I just studied properly then I would feel much better and promptly attain moksha. (or nirvana, just didn't want to be repetitive, besides this is an ashikhhito post). Many bondhuwaas would tell me to listen to music. But it's NOT THAT! It isn't. You know woddimean?

It's that familiar feeling of dur saalaa, bhaallaage naaa....

I just want to be 14 again. For a bit. Dammeeeet.

And I get this horrible feeling I got last winter sem. Kichhu porini. Bhishon dube gechhilaam.

Nilaaaaaaaaaaaaanjaaaaaaaaaaaan. Huuuuuuuulp. Why are you not picking up yer phone? Talk to me, mother! Talk to me!!!!!!

*panics*

For unenlightened hoi polloi/hai pilao. There was no Nilanjan Das in my life last winter sem. So there is still a straw of hope to clutch on to, fer dearlife.

3 comments:

Anurima. said...

Dur saalaa, ar parinaa

Baudolino said...

Last November. I read your blog over and over again and obsessed about it. The same twitch of discomfort, the same sense of futility, the same pain of inarticulation, thus of dur shaalaa, bhaallaage naa. Now it's gone.

ahona said...

my dear little sentimental hero.

naa...eta toh gaali hoye gelo. wait.

Knight in shining armour.White Knight. Aar etaa gaali noy, shonaa. Etaa prophecy-come-true. Remember?

Kolki.
And now the historical imagination fails.