The Act of Breaking Bridges.

This has been happening ruthlessly. Endlessly. This state of flux is turning me into a ruthless unfeeling human being. Why am I not able to have feelings. What sort of completion am I looking for. Is there no end to this quest? That sense of utter completion that overwhelms you when you finish a beautiful lunch is totally missing. Not that I am not having beautiful lunches. But then, somewhere something is really really missing. I am getting things which I have always wanted. Somehow I am beginning to achieve things that I wanted to, albeit in a shaky manner. But that sense of satisfaction is not there at all. That sense of sit-back-with-a-beer-coz-tomorrow-is-sunday is not happening at all. I always get that feeling of relentless motion. And I have been breaking a lot of bridges. I have ruthlessly rushed over them. They have crumbled behind me. I have not even looked back once to at least spare a soft glance. I do not like what I am doing. But I believe I will have to do that. I am a traveller. And the bridges will break. But will I ever cross over. Will I ever be at peace with myself. I guess I broke one bridge on Friday. I dont want to break any more of them. I am done with it.

When the Human Engine ceases to exist

Today my grandmother passed away. She was 94.
I was having an unusually rough day at work. Things stretched to 1AM. I was almost half asleep in the office car as it sped past a foggy, neon yellow deserted Salt Lake. The driver woke me up. I trudged upstairs. It was 1:30 AM. Dad was awake. 'Your grandmom is having breathing problems', he whispered.
Thakma stayed with Boro Jethu in Barrackpore. Choto kaka had taken her to a hospital. She was in real bad shape. But this wasnt new to me. Almost every winter she has had breathing problems. She was after all in her 90s. Even last year she had similar problems but she just didnt give up. I was quite sure she would make it this year too. I was just so used to seeing Thakma around.
I nodded at my Dad, called Choto Kaka and then went straight to sleep. At around 5:30AM Dad woke me up. He did that quietly, almost tenderly. There was no grimace on his face. In fact I was grimacing with the sudden break in my sleep. He was sitting beside me.'Your Thakma passed away around 3 hours back', he said. I knew we had to leave for Barrackpore right then. My eyes were too heavy with sleep to actually make sense of what really happened. As the cold seeped in through my T-shirt, I realized that my Dad had just lost his mother. It seemed like an absolute impossibility to me. But there he was going through it right then. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, got dressed and left with Dad for Barrackpore.
I could not feel his loss. I didnt want to. I will never want to. My Thakma will always be remembered and revered. May she find solace from the unending cycle of time.