Evenings are cold these days. There is a sting in the air. The sun sets earlier than usual. Festive mood is all around – shops lighted, malls glittering more than usual. And yet, my heart feels heavy every evening. For no reason. Or maybe, for many.
As my last day in Baroda nears, I find myself being more committed to work, quieter and steadier. But the moment I am out of workplace, on my own, my heart sinks. That is how I am finding myself more and more these days – alone in the crowd. That is how, I tell myself repeatedly, I am going to be soon – alone among strangers.
I had been behaving like an ostrich – I closed my eyes to the reality, avoided thinking about the big shift and assumed everything was fine. That I was happy. I hid between Navratri lights. I stuck with people, known and unknown, wanting to get lost among them. I wanted to drift. In my last week here, I cannot be the ostrich anymore. I have to open my eyes and see. And act. I have begun packing up. I am busy scheduling farewell dinners and lunches. Farewell. That word should hit me hard. But somehow, it just makes no meaning to me.
In the past 2 weeks, I have run from tailor to tailor getting outfits ready. I have been begging and pestering them to give me my stuff on time, despite Diwali interfering. I have been dragged to bridal wear showrooms and asked to try the heaviest of costumes. The stone encrusted outfits gave me cuts, the heavy lehengas refused to stay up on me but me, the bride-to-be, has to be the shiniest and the brightest for people want to see a beautiful, glowing bride (no one really cares about the glow within her). No effort has been spared to spend lavishly on me.
The glitter of saris and kundan crusted lehengas often lightens my heart and I get carried away. Temporarily. Later on, the heaviness returns. What is happening? What am I doing? What is it going to be?
I am just swimming with the unruly waves, floating to an unknown destination. Some people say they enjoy the uncertainty. They let new things come to them and they tend to enjoy them. I am never happy with uncertainty. I want to decide and know everything that happens with me. I want to write down my future. In absence of that I feel like I have lost control over my own life.
Am I being melodramatic? Am I dragging it a bit too much? Am I over-thinking?
If I didn’t have poetic thoughts swimming in my mind, I would never have been a writer. If I didn’t have so many thoughts, I would never have started a blog.