ramble – Page 7 – Mimi Mondal

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So through the din and merriment and lightstrings of Durga Pujo, we studied and cribbed. On Diwali, we were writing paper. On Bhaiphonta, we were writing another paper. And come the evening of Eid… and guess what we are doing? :)

In between there was the whirlwind trip to the Capital, cameraless and wonderful and just as necessary. An image borrowed from other people’s cameras will not show our face. For example, this:

All that could be jinxed have been jinxed. The heart feels wonderfully light and clean in its rediscovered nudity. One must always move away (deviate?) from a given point, one must live out of a backpack and let all else peel off and away.

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I want to write about what kept me smiling this week (despite the still-defunct keyboard that scrambles my brain each time I try to write and the days gone by that should’ve been spent writing) but I’m afraid that will jinx it. (Will this jinx it?)

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121010121010 Miminality4 Comments

This is the fiftieth post. As usual, one has nothing to say. We could do with a break. We could do with our lives not being packed to plans till about three months later. (The older we grow the harder it becomes to “get away from it all.”) We don’t feel like buying train tickets although coming to think of it, the trip will possibly be fun. The only desire is to melt away into nothingness.

This persistent case of dissatisfaction may (possibly) be traced back to the problematic way we define the mundane. This is mundane, the endless rat-race with its minuscule victories and gratifications, this is the trap. CV-fattening is the trap. Success is the trap, it puts you on a wall of fame and lovingly cements you in till you cannot move an eyeball in an untoward direction. The transcendental is out there and it’s blurring out a little, going slowly slowly slowly out of reach with every day you wake up and take a coffee shot and go to college and write another bloody test.

It all boils down to the bloody test. That is the problem. This fatal shortsightedness.

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I sat among the unwashed piles of dishes with the cat and finished the remnants of my dinner and felt very free.

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Have to remind myself, I don’t do that, I don’t do that, I don’t do that. That I do not do.
I shall not.

Yes, I have seen the blog post. If I’m hurt it is not your business, never anymore. But when you treat me like your lab rat you must not be surprised the next time I completely innocently chew off your fingers, shall you? Only fair. So that’s settled then.

Hm. Can’t think of anything witty or profound to say. As usual. =)