{Of all lies, art is the least untrue - Flaubert}



Monday, April 02, 2007

Good Bye, Hyderabad

PS: Here I tread in mushy waters again. Pardon the melodrama, and overdrawing an itch.

Morning of 8th April will be a difficult morning. There will be so many suitcases to carry, and my heart might fall off too. It might go heavy. I know, I will take care of my stuff on the train to Delhi. I know, after sometime, I will try to strike a stupid conversation with co-passengers. I will count the baggage and all, I promise I will be an intelligent and alert traveler. I will keep in mind that I need to bargain with the coolies and keep in mind all those pre-planned things-to-do. But my heart might go heavy, for I know, some things will haunt me alongside the upcoming jet lag like an Ozu film, forever. The new things should keep me occupied, should not leave me alone for a second, lest the old should grab me.

As my one bedroom flat is becoming messy day by day, there's more unpacking than packing. Someone who believes in sun signs and stuff told me that cancerians are stupid and they can't throw away things. I feel it is true. Its difficult to pack years in 2 bags of 23 kgs and a handbag of 7-8 kgs. One more bag might help, some provision should be made for stupid cancerians. Just few kgs might unload my heart. There are photo albums of 5 years of the pre-digital era. My friends suggest to scan them all, one CD for all the mundane memories, they will never turn sepia too. And there are new softwares available to clean the traces of time, fresh as pastry or dew drop or whatever. Now I might be forced to digitalize the memories of lost treks, messed cookings and doomed drinks, all bright, no sepias or dusky browns. It will be as clear and transient as present. It wont smell, it wont stink.

Clothes that used to fit the trimmer body of yesteryear, the portals to youth, lie there as least priority items alongside the four hankies used for Tokyo Stories, ashamed of their waist sizes or of a patch of dirt here or there. As a smug-caring bourgeois, I will donate the used-stuff to the watchman to trade off for his services. And will think with a pretentious sigh to reach some emotional high - used old stuff for one, past for the other. New suitcases should only have the present, new and crisp. Nothing of the past, it should make an exit, otherwise it will be forced to. I am preparing hard for a smooth loss.

Several print outs of Metamorphosis, all scribbled and marked with old eureka insights, pile as Grete stretches her limbs in the noon sun. Loads of unread fresh books, brought in the bouts of optimism-to-read, virgin and calling for touch, lie in rest. I almost fear the friends who become extra caring when they hear you are leaving, but I can't complain as I had been so for many of them. One should leave the leaver, don't let him feel he is leaving, let him leave, he doesn't deserve your caring. As my best friend said with jarring compassion when I last saw him years ago - go fast, fuck off !

10 comments:

Push. said...

please write one mor epost describing ur all 'Good Bad Ugly' of..Hadduland..
prbbly try to wrap ur years here which u gonna pack in begs

मनीष कुमार - Manish Kumar said...

saale! senti mar raha hai:)
katli kar abhi :)

मनीष कुमार - Manish Kumar said...

rather Load na le! :)

Alok said...

hmmm. nice post. when i leave i am generally too afraid about the future to feel any sadness for the present.

Vidya said...

Good luck! Nicely written one though bordering on the mush register.The logistics of a move are a pain with our tendencies to accumulate what may seem as random worthless things to others.Like our minds we fill our rooms too with useless junk!!

amit said...

Carrying the memoirs of a place that is soon going to be your past after years of being the very present is like fetching half a dozen of eggs from the grocery shop - eager to break with the slightest of jitter to spill the shapeless fluid so carefully hidden inside a rather thin yet hard-enough shell. You don’t like to spill it. Many of us do not like the rawness, the stickiness and the smell of a broken egg. So,some haunting thoughts are part of carrying eggs and suitcase does not help; so carry them safe for “smooth loss”.

In a sense, this post of yours is a superb effort to carry the eggs safe. With a very personal, thoughtful and nostalgic note (that reveals hardly anything personal except the belongings), this no doubt is a fine delicate touch that this moment deserves.

You rightly said “new suitcases should only have the present, new and crisp. Nothing of the past, it should make an exit, otherwise it will be forced to” .

So, goodluck friend. Go ahead and fill your suitcase with brand new things. Have a brand new Life ahead!

AD said...

senti, senti!!
This has almost shifted the focus from what the future has in store for you. (Will the first post after arriving at the new place cover this?)

Anyways, a nice post.(may be some other title would have been more apt). BTW...Hope you've taken all what Hyd could offer or at least made an effort to this end.

Good luck for future in the land of opportunities!

Anonymous said...

it is, as u say, overdrawing an inch... but I knwo its difficult to do melodrama :)... I liked the use of language. I liked the irony of "I promise I will be an intelligent and alert traveler" and the mush of "Its difficult to pack years in 2 bags of 23 kgs and a handbag of 7-8 kgs"... good post...

km said...

Anurag, just so you don't miss your flight or work, Monday will be April 9th, not 8th :)

Totally agree with your closing sentiment, but I'd feel terribly hurt if my friends didn't show up for the Packing and Moving ceremony.

Good luck!

anurag said...

Thanks all. Reached Safely... thanks for the wishes.