after many returns, it is now more certain than ever that calcutta is not my ithaka. anjum hasan, writing about shillong says she feels a nostalgia for shillong even as she lived and grew there. calcutta has always escaped me. in 2005, it was a shock: humid, hydrocarbonated, and oh so ugly. in 2006, when i fell in love with it, i was already plotting and scheming to leave. did i care then about my department, my university? hardly. i spent those oppressive afternoons cooling off sweat inside air-conditioned libraries, or the mall, in a pinch. there was a rotating cast of characters i never took the effort to get to know, or make a strong impression on. at the fag end, playing cards and stories and endless laughs drew six of us together.
shillong was a rude slap this year. i am dkhar. here and there.
all this thinking of networks of belonging just won't work for me in the long term. too many nodes. too many variables. a brief, brilliant friendship, always a reprise subsequently, and hence as much a success as before. any sustained connection, or longing for such, has always ended in grief and anger.
it is just as well that i am spared both nostos and algos, then.
i've been in binghamton longer than i lived in calcutta. it appears that i've grown to be rather fond of the graceless little dump. in lieu of nation, clan, culture, roots, i'd rather settle for a room of my own, long walks whenever the fancy takes me, a few regular haunts to spoil myself in, brightly lit (though always drafty/too cold) bookshops, and a vast distance separating me from parental intrusion.
shillong was a rude slap this year. i am dkhar. here and there.
all this thinking of networks of belonging just won't work for me in the long term. too many nodes. too many variables. a brief, brilliant friendship, always a reprise subsequently, and hence as much a success as before. any sustained connection, or longing for such, has always ended in grief and anger.
it is just as well that i am spared both nostos and algos, then.
i've been in binghamton longer than i lived in calcutta. it appears that i've grown to be rather fond of the graceless little dump. in lieu of nation, clan, culture, roots, i'd rather settle for a room of my own, long walks whenever the fancy takes me, a few regular haunts to spoil myself in, brightly lit (though always drafty/too cold) bookshops, and a vast distance separating me from parental intrusion.
anyway, all this dithering about is only because it is time again to start another semester and answer the question: who am i going to be this semester?
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