All my bags are packed.

How do you go away? From a city that made you? From the halogen lit streets you walked in the rain? From the  songs you sung together so many times that you exactly know where who will sing what? And how? You know where Poulami will break into that harmony. You know where Bimbabati will start nodding her head with a smile and say Ooof! What do you do when you have your own anthems? Where you can tell what song is up next even before Laddu keeps down his glass of Old Monk and picks up his beloved guitar. Where every evening is like a million other. The same songs, the same people, the same Shaat Tollah, the same city lights that send out the same strange transmissions to the grey Calcutta skies and the city sounds far away.

"What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known and loved because it is known?"


 I have attended so many farewell parties. Sung the same songs of togetherness and parting. Come home, shed a tear or two. I remember the day Subhayu left. I cried when I came home. Then suddenly this evening I am seated in the same room, singing the same songs when it all comes back to me and I realise that this time, it is me the songs are for. It's my farewell day.

How do you hold back your tears when Daniel starts playing Leaving on a jet plane? What do you do?

My parents never tire of reminding me time and again that I could have done much better- that I spent my college years doing very little that was 'fruitful'. But today I have come to a point in my life where I can say that I regret not one thing I did in these 5 years. I have lived everyday. I have lived like I have never lived. I have loved. I have made memories. I can remember more days from these past 5 years than I can from the rest of my life.

People often talk about how the only true friends you make are in school - in your childhood. But somehow I met the best people of my life after school. They have molded me in so many ways that it is difficult to tell how I would have been like had it not been for them. I love you all. For your madness and the sanity you bring to my life. And that includes the chayer dokan people, Dhruva, Kaichu and last but not the least Anuj.

And then there is the Poo. I love her. There is no one like her. She is an exceptional woman. She is incredible.  I learn from her everyday. It is not often that I will say it on a blog but let me say this tonight - I love you.

Now when I look back at all that I feel terrible about leaving behind, I cannot but feel happy for how much I have lived. For how much I have loved. For how much I am loved. But then they will start playing that strain from Hazaron Khwahishen Aisi and it will fill the dark rooms of Shat Tollah and I will not feel like going anywhere anymore. But what do I do?