The empty road in front of a
friend’s apartment which was my home for a week and seemingly for a while
longer in the March of 2011. To make
myself feel less shattered by the way the world was shaping around me, I
contacted people myself to make new friends and booked my ticket to the
Japanese wife. The evening was one of my
first in London to step out and see what magnifies this city to the level that
everyone wants it to be. The evening was
supposed to be in Royal Albert Hall – its huge, majestic, so organized and what
not. And I did the simple thing on a
tube to change to another tube to reach to south ken and watch my very first
opera. Can you imagine what a feeling it
is to do those various things that your peers want to do and also to do them by
yourself start to finish. I was stepping out of an apartment locking it myself
and coming back to it with no one to greet me or hug me. That’s the feeling I got in contrast to that
of pride and achievement.
Somehow this is not the most
significant incident of my life in London but it does creep in my thoughts
whenever I feel left out, alone that is.
I walked around in the Notting hill tube station only to realize that the
onward tube is not working. I learnt that
about London then, that do not rely on this city. Just be extra pre cautious, extra careful
before jumping the gun here. You are
here alone. I walked and called the
people that I cant make it, but they suggested take a cab. An obvious solution such as this does not
occur in a state of absolute delirium.
But cabs in London in rain and weekends are rare, very rare. And I being the smart a** I am, figured out a
way to get there just by looking at the maps those very first time. I was on a bus to Royal Albert Hall – I was
sure to miss part of the opera, but I was going to get there and see the faces
of people, someone known at least. If
someone my dear would have been in London, I would have grabbed him/her and
cried out loud. I never realized
something could be soo painful and difficult, but it was. However the tears were really difficult to
stop – and hence I learnt to cry alone.
And every time I do that, I wish it is my last and unfortunately it
never is. I hate myself being soo weak,
and I hate to admit in person, so I do this via the blog. Well that’s also a purpose solved.
I have wanted to write about my
tough times in London for a long long time – but I never got a fitting title, a
thought coherence, because its just difficult when you are this upset. Last weekend, at exactly this time, I was
sleeping on a plane back to London leaving my favorite city behind. I don’t say I was never bored there when I
lived – there was soo less to do that I did get bored. I also became strong there – I lost a job,
money, comfort, confidence and learnt how to regain it all. I was highly ranked professionally. And I was considered good enough to move to
London. But I really did not make of
London what I wanted to. I was looking
to learn a special dance, make special cross country friends, make a foreign apartment
my home, learn baking – and I have done absolutely nothing of it. I am neither a trainer dance, if anything
less of a dancer now than before. I don’t
even have speakers for god’s sake. I became
more closed, thanks to the sickness in my body or mind, I still don’t know. I
never took an apartment – instead kept myself in a very very small room, that I
never will be able to call mine. I did
all efforts to do all of these things and failed miserably at many if not all
of them.
Today is Diwali – the third one
in a row which I spent alone. The reason
for the first year was that we had already agreed that I will miss this one as
I attended the one before. And then last year it was witty’s wedding and this
year is mine. Its sad that this article
took its existence today. Its also sad
that my parents were alone at home, and my voice had no vigour at all to make
them feel better. In fact, my voice was
soo sad and mellow because I for one damn moment cant pretend to be happy when
I am not. I just feel I should have
watched the painful Krissh 3 – sometimes sitting in a theatre is not bad at
all. A good cure for a heavy
loneliness. It is a disease which has
plagued me at times, and groped me to such an extent that I want to be taken
out of it.
I named the title as such because
I realized that there is some jinx about me and London. Soo many things have changed, but I still
keep coming the full circle. There could
have been a very different August and a year that followed. But its London and me that have a special
relationship. Comparing geekily, it’s saved in a difficult form that editing it
needs a special software. I am arguably
and agreeably half the culprit and 70% of the victim here. I don’t know when and how this will change, a
lot of things actually. But it certainly
has taken some effort. I wish I just smile in London now and these tears are
beheld.
P.s. This is a very sharp moment
of weakness. I have written and thought
well about my home for the past three years as well.
Music: heavy breathing
