Null & Void

She was walking around with that huge gaping hole in her heart for over a week now. It felt as if someone had taken a giant bazooka and shot an iron cannon ball right through her chest. It was surprising how such emptiness could weigh so much. For though she felt like a large part of her was actually missing, the void in itself seemed to have an interminable weight which sapped her strength, bore her down, buckled her knees and pinned her to the ground; so much so, that the ground beneath her feet and the world around her collapsed under the weight of her emptiness.

Oh, she had cried. She had cried until the tears poured out, in the vain hope that they would flood her heart, fill the white void and seal the emptiness. And the tears had obediently arrived at her behest, like an all too eager vulture waiting to swoop down on a dying animal and end the ordeal. But they did nothing to kill the pain or heal the wound. Eventually, she told herself that she had to stop crying. But the tears still streamed out in silent batches; stealthily creeping down at the slightest hint of a trigger – a song here, a sign there. They now seemed to have a will of their own and she watched on haplessly as they took over her life.

A funny thing then started happening. She began to notice this other void emerging in the recess of her mind. The tears now seemed to be leaving a new void in their wake. Her suspicion was confirmed when she felt an emptiness take shape in her head - as if reason had deserted its abode, leaving in its place a huge black emptiness.  But in a strange way the numbness in her mind or the Null as she referred to it as, now complemented the Void in her heart.  For when the mind ceased to register the songs, the signs and the memories, the heart knew not what to languish for.

And she woke up one morning, on another grey October to find that the wellspring of tears had now run dry. But the path that they had traced between Null & Void was etched deep in her soul. And in a weird way, as the black Null embraced the white Void, she felt a strange grey wisp of peace settle round her.

Parting of the Protima

Well, I had originally penned this verse almost 2 years ago. The trigger was a rather evocative picture from the Durga Puja celebrations in Calcutta, captured by Shuboda on his website: http://wanderfulwalk.net/2009/11/13/in-the-long-run/

The reason this came rushing back to me earlier this month was, because I had ventured out on my 1st Pandaal hopping spree this year with a bunch of fellow enthusiasts (aptly spearheaded by Simi). We covered 3 Pandaals and I must admit I was completely floored by the elaborate idols and decorations. But what pleased me to no end was the sumptuous spread across the Oh Calcutta, Hangla and Sweet Bengal stalls at the venue. The exquisite, spicy sting of the Jhalmuri, the heavily layered indulgence of the Mughlai Paranthas and the delightfully crisp chicken chaap did their part to contribute to a divine experience of the culinary kind! Also, there is this inexplicable thrill of eating non-vegetarian food (legitimately, mind you) on a Puja day... It almost feels like you're flouting the rules *and* getting away with it : ) Anyway, before I digress and turn this into a food fest, here's the verse I was talking about:

After the telltale conch
Sings victory
And the rich vermilion

Proclaims glory;
With evil vanquished
And a job well done,
Yawns replace trumpets
As the mortals return
To scooters and tiffins,
To life's mundane call.
For, come Monday morning
Even the mighty fall.

There's also this picture that I had taken at one of the Pandaals in Juhu. I was given to understand that it was Rani Mukherjee's Pandaal (...No, I did not spot any Bollywood stars there!). But this is the sort of elaborate set-up that I was talking about.