Saturday, March 7, 2009

Questions and Answers

But of course some questions do not have any answer is all that I manage to convince myself. Finally. No, convince will be incorrect to use. Argue would be better. It shocks me every time I realize that questions and spring are independent of each other. The temporal similitude of origin disturbs me. The co-incidental complement between the two seems extremely vexing. May be its only my unimaginative nature that refuses to accept any impediment to the linear flow of sense.

Or may be, I’ll say, I imagine too much. That is what makes reality all the more incoherent and illegible. Images simply swim inside my cerebrum. Sounds flutter and then fade away. All what remains is a set of questions that seems to have no answer. Bloody shimuls rain over my shoulders while the answers that never were lulls me dead.

It’s weird to die everyday.
It really is.

I have a fetish for communication. For touching finger-tips instead of kisses. For phone calls instead of Bournvilles. It might make me odd… but one can hardly deny one’s dislikes. And likes, of course. Communication leads to lesser questions. Better answers. And bonding. The attachment that I am always deprived of.

Am I complaining?
Do I know what satisfies my queer needs?
Am I still the child that Mom tries to spot in me every time I get out of control?
Can unconditional love exist but for in myths?
How long will I be able to persist with this search?

Questions never fetch me any answers. Instead, they take me to mellow winter afternoons of orange dust and dreamy smokes. Of the telebhaja breeze. Of the chill making my nostrils arid. Of the golden light trickling down my ruffled hair. Of gutters blocked with empty Pepsi cans. Of the cozy constriction of the Cornfield Road. Of ripened suns and neon lights.

I no longer feel too tempted to stop seeking answers. I dig into myself. Into others. I go on trying… and trying… and trying…

I’m a creepy creature, eh?


  1. আমার কাছে আসতে বলো
    একটু ভালোবাসতে বলো
    বাহিরে নয় বাহিরে নয়
    ভিতর জলে ভাসতে বলো-
    আমায় ভালোবাসতে বলো।
    ভীষণ ভালোবাসতে বলো।

  2. Can unconditional love exist but for in myths?
    :) it has been a fav thinkin-triggr in my cerebrum...but wi d sack of bended backbone experienc iv i'd say if u cnt convinc urslf abt anythng u'd surely b confusd...s 4bournvilles...they r earnd not begettd huh??!
    bhalo bhalo khub bhalo

  3. @Nachiketa: :)

    @Key: i was confused then. now, i'm definite about the non-existence of any crap that we LOVE to imagine as unconditional!
    poor we! huhh!

  4. r u really convinced?...
    wel...from my part i wil still say its not crap...its not easy to be nevr was, it never is, it never wil be.
    if i get any better answers wil let u know...

  5. There is a very wise saying that some questions that do not answer themselves at the moment of their asking remain forever unanswered. This is definitely not true for all questions. Abar majhey modhdhey mone hoye kichhu uttor charipaashey bichhiye royechhey - it's WE who couldn't find the right questions to them. Shothik uttor'er chaitey shothik proshno kora aaro onek boro eka Art.

    And you said Unconditional Love? I don't know, perhaps I have loved that way. Someday, somewhere. Bhaalobasha jinishtai bhaari bichitro.

  6. @Poushali: I am. And please don't imagine this to be pessimism. It is my version of reality. You possess full right to disagree.
    However, let me know if you HAVE found any better answers. I love surprises.

    @Lonestar: Hmm... I seem to have touched a sensitive string. Sobai khub negatively react korchhe. Anyway, I am a cruder substance than you people, I guess.
    Self-love is the ONLY love that I find to be unconditional. If you can differ, you are r-e-a-l-l-y lucky mon amie!

  7. I 'm a creep
    I 'm a weirdo
    What the hell am I doing here?
    I don't belong here

    thiki chinechis nijeke!!!!!!
    r ha sob question r i ansewar hoi ekhn karur kache jodi kono ans satisfying na hoi den kichu korar nei.den ans take edit kora jete pare...setao possible.dig inside urself chara kono rasta nei.neverending process jodi tui perfectionist hos.