Today's sunrise was regular. Just the way it always looks like on a
regular dewy, misty Bangalore morning. What's different is the
realisation that I would have left this place I have been calling home
for the past 2 years, very soon. Yes the farewell invitation is already having its affect.
I'm having my morning coffee right now and I hear a bird chirping away outside. Like it's trying to tell me something. I don't quite understand bird-talk, but I wish I knew, because I badly want to have a little goodbye chat right now.
Today when I went out to the Anna shop for my daily nicotine, I wanted to tell the guy who always handed me my packet of smoke in the morning, that I'm leaving soon. I wanted to tell the guy at fudclub who used to get me the best chicken paratta ever, that I'll be gone soon.
I wanted to tell HER a lot of things too,like seeing her on my way out, worked like a lucky charm for me.Yes I am immature even now.
I wanted to go ask the Indus guy, how he remembered which poison I preferred, even when I went to him after weeks or months of abstinence.
Having said all this,There's this thing about life in a busy metropolitan city. It's like this unwritten rule that you don't really talk to people. You connect to people. That's because it is human. But you don't really talk. I can't imagine walking upto any of the above mentioned poeple and saying a goodbye. They'd probably be taken aback! Because that isn't expected around here, right? You leave the place quietly, at the break of dawn, load all your stuff into a cab and just leave. Your place in this part of the universe will be filled up by another being. They'll bring a part of themselves to this place where you leave a part of yourself behind. It just goes on.
For some reason, I also like the fact that I'm spared the goodbye ritual. Everytime you say a goodbye to someone, the sense of finality sinks in. That you'll be gone. For real. I just prefer to believe that I'll be back soon. Bangalore has been much more than a city to me. It's been this living, breathing person.
So when I pack my bags and leave before I say hi to tomorrow's Bangalore sun, my parting words will be "See you soon! hogi bartini, Bengaluru!"
I'm having my morning coffee right now and I hear a bird chirping away outside. Like it's trying to tell me something. I don't quite understand bird-talk, but I wish I knew, because I badly want to have a little goodbye chat right now.
Today when I went out to the Anna shop for my daily nicotine, I wanted to tell the guy who always handed me my packet of smoke in the morning, that I'm leaving soon. I wanted to tell the guy at fudclub who used to get me the best chicken paratta ever, that I'll be gone soon.
I wanted to go ask the Indus guy, how he remembered which poison I preferred, even when I went to him after weeks or months of abstinence.
Having said all this,There's this thing about life in a busy metropolitan city. It's like this unwritten rule that you don't really talk to people. You connect to people. That's because it is human. But you don't really talk. I can't imagine walking upto any of the above mentioned poeple and saying a goodbye. They'd probably be taken aback! Because that isn't expected around here, right? You leave the place quietly, at the break of dawn, load all your stuff into a cab and just leave. Your place in this part of the universe will be filled up by another being. They'll bring a part of themselves to this place where you leave a part of yourself behind. It just goes on.
For some reason, I also like the fact that I'm spared the goodbye ritual. Everytime you say a goodbye to someone, the sense of finality sinks in. That you'll be gone. For real. I just prefer to believe that I'll be back soon. Bangalore has been much more than a city to me. It's been this living, breathing person.
So when I pack my bags and leave before I say hi to tomorrow's Bangalore sun, my parting words will be "See you soon! hogi bartini, Bengaluru!"
1 comment:
Nice one. Well written!
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