is going home.

will have a dadu and a dida and mommy and a daddy and a kaka and a mani and a raka and a ruchi

and a bari.

a bari and a room and a bed and a bookcase

and a jude and a campus and a gang

and a city.

oh, calcutta, how i miss you and your pollution and your cacophony and the racous bangla on every tongue.

A (half)Room of One's Own

I miss home today. Not very much, excesses of emotion are strangers to me. But I miss home. Very deeply, and with a constant ache that refuses, today, to do the sensible thing and die down.

Maybe that's because I saw Kaka last evening, for rather less than an hour. Maybe it's because people were talking about JUDE. I don't know, I don't know.

It's stupid, and irrational, and rather unpardonably nyaka, but I miss home and uni and Calcutta today with an intensity I cannot deal with, cannot work around, cannot wish or think away. I had things I was supposed to do, and haven't done any. I want to go home, right now, right this moment I want to go home.

And I know, I know it's a passing thing, in a few hours I shall like this place as much as I have grown to, these last few days.

I know, but that knowledge changes nothing. Right now, I miss home, I miss my family, I miss my friends, I miss uni, I miss Calcutta. I even miss the peppermint tea at Dolly's.

Nothing to be done, of course, and since I can't fix it, I've got to bear it. I know, this too shall pass. Of course it will, it has to. But it's hell while it lasts.

Nothing to be done.