Friday, 9 November 2012

Life is a rollercoaster... NaNa Na Na

I’m writing today on popular demand. Yes, I actually have people asking me to post on my blog :-o. I’m so thrilled, overwhelmed, flattered, humbled etc etc etc. My body and brain have given up on me, but it’s ok, I write from my heart, so here it is! (Profound and filmy, innit?)

Manic is how I will describe my life. When it rains, hurricane Sandy hits. So in short, I haven’t slept in days, weeks possibly, and there’s no sleep in my destiny for the next few days either. But on to more fun stuff.

My friends and I went for our first-ever Bacardi NH7 Weekender last weekend in Pune. Whatte fun it was! Open air, six stages with myriad music, alcohol albeit in enclosed, restricted spaces, long drives, more music, and the company of some of the people I love the most. In fact, even my friend from Chennai flew down to spend a week with me, and luckily, ‘twas this weekend.

Well, I’m sure most of you have already heard enough about NH7; i.e. those of you who weren’t there, so I won’t harp on the things everyone else is talking about. I’ll just talk about my favourite gig. Well, actually I think the Dewarists stage was a unanimous favourite for all those who went. And of all the gigs performed on that stage, my heart bled experiencing Kailasa. Now I’ve always loved Kailash Kher’s music and voice, and generally him too—he’s really sweet, cute, etc.  

But standing in front of that stage, swaying along with another 100 people, listening to him belt out one heart-wrenching song after the other... Sigh. See, so strange, as I’m writing this, I can feel the same welcome, sweet ache I felt while watching his concert (I am listening to one of his songs now, but still).

His songs are all about unconditional, inconvenient, painful and wonderful love (a little of this is borrowed from Carrie Bradshaw - Sex and the City). Basically the kind of love we all want to feel, we all want in our lives, we all want to never lose. And then we do, lose it that is. And then we listen to Kailasa. And our hearts bleed. And ache. You get my drift.

NH7 was a first for me in many ways. It also fell on a significant date for me, so I was definitely fuddled up through the weekend and most of the music hit home—far sooner and deeper than it may have otherwise.

What would we do without music in our lives? Sigh. I’m one of those who, once obsessed with a song, listen to it on repeat, all day, every day, for days. I write, work, pine, dance and do lots more to music. Thank God for it!

I came back from my fantastical weekend only to dive straight into a pile of work, with a huge side of lots of stress to go with it. And most importantly, I’m moving homes—unfortunately still in Bombay. Right now I can only hope and pray that the next time I shift, it will at least be out of this city.

Tonight is my last night at my current house. It’s been a good house, this. Yes, it’s been a home. Almost like my first real grown-up home in Bombay. And almost all my friends have loved it here too. We’ve had some great times here. Over a year ago, two people took great care to set it up, making it a lot more than just functional. It was small, it sometimes got lonely, it saw lots of fight, but even more love, many tears but so many more bouts of uncontrollable laughter. It’s sheltered us, opened its arms to my friends, family and just about anyone else. It’s been a good home, this.

Till a few days ago, I was thrilled at the prospect of leaving this apartment. I was devoured by the frenzy of packing, booking movers, and generally other stuff related to a shift. And suddenly, two days ago, with most of my life packed up in suitcases and cartons, I looked around and felt incredibly sad. Sad that I had to leave this place, sad that it truly marks an end, and sad that it is the end of an era. This is harder than I thought. Harder than either of us thought and I think our tears have stained the walls. But I hope whatever good karma this home gave us, rubs off onto the new tenant, and that I carry some with me onto the beautiful new apartment I’m about to make a home. Vagabond, I am in this city, and forever will be.

Forgive my rambling and if this post hasn’t been as entertaining as the ones before, or if you don’t relate to it at all. Life has been a rollercoaster the last few weeks—emotionally and physically. I have no idea what lies in store ahead; yes I’m at crossroads again. But for now, all I truly want to do is sleep. 

1 comment:

  1. Don't worry, boka meye, people always seem to relate to your writing :) If this is the result of me posting that chhobi to your wall, expect a lot of chhobis.

    I've felt that way about moving houses / apartments before, and twice it was for the same reason. Such large chapters in our lives are marked with a sense of place, and losing that place makes it much harder to pretend. I can't imagine what it must feel like to live in a typically American family where your parents eventually sell the house you grew up in; the only house I relate to that way is Dadu's in Salt Lake, and the idea of not having it someday would be like losing him all over again.

    Shawn and I even drove back to see the house we lived in when we were kids in Georgia, once upon a time, when we visited dad. Emotional roller coaster, for sure. We even had milk and cookies with the old lady who lives there now, and hung out with her granddaughter :) Her son (he's the sheriff) saw us sitting outside his mom's house and came to ask us who we were, and when he heard we used to live there 17 years ago, they invited us in :) Somehow, this is easier, and less heartbreaking, in the US. Or maybe that's just me.

    On the flip side, a new place can be a heartbreakingly awesome way to force that new chapter to start, precisely because it makes it harder to try to hold on to the stuff (good, but also bad) in the walls. You might get back to being awesome faster, na?