My Love She throws me like a Rubber Ball

My old friend, or rather enemy, or maybe ‘Frenemy’ as a new term goes, is back. She’s back with renewed vigor and a suppressed vengeance, it seems. This time, she’s got me in a tight grip and the physical effects have started showing: the dark circles turning from light ash to a sinister grey, the puffy eyes in the morning taking much longer than normal to subside, the skin looking so tired and ‘un-fresh’ all the time. But these really aren’t my biggest worries. I’m more upset by the thoughts she puts into my head: the restless fretting, the unnecessary reflections on the days gone by, the worries of the future. All this while the chaos of yet another meaningless day rushes towards me and I’m left to fight its anarchy with diminishing energy and sagging eyelids.

This frenemy of mine has been with me for years now. She’s fickle, comes and goes as and when she wishes, no particular pattern or reason. When she announces her arrival, she gets me wondering to what I owe the pleasure (NOT!) of her presence. When she leaves, I’m left looking for clues to what it was that drove her away. Most of the times, she brings along some of her friends and they seem to have a ball in my head every night. Her friends have ominous names too: Anxiety, Restlessness and Exhaustion.  They are often joined by Blankness, which is even more irritating than its other acquaintances.

This time, I don’t know how long my old friend/enemy will be staying and when she will suddenly decide to let go of her grip on me. *big sigh* I just hope she tires soon this time.

Amar nishitho raater badol dhaara

Sunny and I visited Shama at her new home yesterday along with Brishti and a friend; what was amazing was how well  settled she already looked in her new surroundings. Seeing her so at ease in her new abode, it was hard to tell she had only been living there for several hours. And it definitely was heartwarming to see her genuine happiness. It was as if she was radiating joy from within, that was adding the glow to her sleep-deprived face. During the couple of hours we were there to give her company, she told us about how her new family, immediate and extended, welcomed her into the clan with arms wide open. Apparently, Marzuq's aunts had welcomed her into their home with a well-known Tagore song 'Esho esho amar ghor-e esho, amar ghor-e' which roughly translates to 'Come into my home, dear'. I left Shama's home yearning to soothe my tired mind with some Tagore songs before I called it a day. Once we were back  home, Sunny was happy to play along the keyboard while Brishti, my mother and I sang along all the Tagore songs we could remember the lyrics of, albeit a bit out of tune. The lyrics were food for the mind and balm to the soul.

Tagore's songs have always been an enigma to me. As a child, I would listen to my mother humming some of her favourite Tagore numbers and I couldn't comprehend how she could love the slow melodies so much. Of course, my mind then never paid attention to the lyrics. It was shortly after I fell in love, for the very first time, I decided to turn to Tagore for some explanation of the alien feelings that jolted through my heart all day, and Tagore did not disappoint me. 'Tumi kon kanoner phool, kon gogoner taara' became my favourite because it seemed like my beloved was a mystery to me and I was always looking for ways to figure him out. 'Tora je ja bolish bhai, amar shonar horin chai' stuck to me during the time I was fighting to hold on to my dreams while people tried to me throw reality at my face. 'Amar nishitho raatero badolo dhara' was my trusted companion during the long bouts of insomnia I faced at a certain point in my life. I now believe Rabindranath Tagore had the unique ability of understanding the mystifying intricacies of the human heart and empathizing with almost every emotion that a human being can possibly experience.

I must admit, when it comes to Tagore songs, I'm not a regular listener. I put away listening to them until and unless I really need to, which is usually when a familiar heartache pops us now and then or my soul needs some rejuvenating, like a special bar of chocolate stashed away to be relished only after an exceptionally tiring day or a bottle of rare wine carefully preserved to celebrate that one special occasion that calls for nothing but the best. And when I do envelop myself with Tagore's melodies and words now and then, it's pure rejuvenation that I treat my heart/soul to. And if I ever met Tagore in person, I would give him a bear hug or maybe a kiss on his right hand, and I'm sure he would know why.

Well, I have rambled on for long enough, I guess I'll get going now. Sunny is playing the keyboard to his heart's content, paying no heed to the fact that it is now well past 2 in the morning and tomorrow is a weekday. I guess I'll join him for a song or two before we bid the world 'goodnight'.