It's been a month and a week. The death of my father is a blow which I still need to come to terms with. I open Skype and think of talking to him and soon realize, that time is long gone. I find solace in that red close button on the upper right side of the Skype window. Until now, I haven't allowed myself to think much about him. I think, I just don't have enough courage to do so. I know how broken and hollow its going to be inside, even If I had enough.

I don't seem to remember the last time I touched his living body. Probably 2 years ago. And I don't even remember the last words I said to him or he, to me. Probably regarding the world at large, without a hint of how we both enjoyed talking and debating.

We went to Harihareshwar to scatter the ashes. We walked way into the backside of that mysterious temple, where there were big rocks, big dark volcanic rocks with holes in it. Carved probably since ages by some unknown innumerous sea species. At one of the points where these rocks touched the ocean, the waves were crashing effortlessly and leaving the foamy water under our feet. My brother held the box; in it, the ashes and some bones of his ailing burned physical entity. He opened it, turned it slowly around. The waves took the ashes and the bones with a warmth of a final homecoming. The wind blew calm, sky was grey and we stood there on the rocks, silently. Just before we were about to turn back and leave, a relatively bigger wave came, crashed on the rocks and when the water receded, a small white piece of human bone was left stuck in the rocks. I bent down, took it in my hands.

For a second, I thought I'd slip it into my pocket and keep it with me. But then I bent and let it go, maybe it didn't belong here with me, maybe letting it go where it belonged was the only way. That moment, was the heaviest of all I could imagine of those 10-12 days. Just this crunching thought that I was the last one who touched any part of his body gives me a strange mixture of happiness and melancholy..

I had decided neither to get into these emotional things nor to write about any of it. This is the last of what I guess I'd say or write about it.

The hardcore melancholia part of my youth officially ends here. I have decided to stop this blog here. Maybe in time, I'd start another one; but the time has come for this one to end.

The pieces are scattered. And the last one, by me.

येतो मी...
Well, finally I have deleted my facebook profile. Why? 
  • To defeat that inner guy who was always laughing at my excuses like facebook offers informative/helpful groups, being in touch with friends who live far away, messaging which replaced emails n blah blah. 
  • Noise to signal ratio: in fact the signal was so low that all I could see/read was noise. Pure passive entertainment bullshit.
  • To get a kick after letting go of the habit of opening that firefox tab for facebook.
  • Opt out of people's personal lives (or specifically, to opt out of their lame attempts to present the self-edited best dimension of their lives). I was right when I was swimming in the deepest wave of depression and pessimism, human beings are hopeless. 
  • Purge the thoughts which would otherwise originate due to the fact that I was aware of having a facebook profile. Can't think of a particular example now but believe me there were things like taking a photo at Eiffel tower from a particular perspective or at Isar. I still want to do these things but not with that motivation but just for the sake of doing those things.
  • Get those looks from people who would ask me "Are you on Facebook/Let me send you a friend request." and get "I dont have a facebook account."
I know there are loopholes in the arguments but the first point was a major motivation to delete it. I tried doing it 4-5 months ago but somehow stuck with it. Lately I wasn't using it anyway, so on a gray rainy afternoon, sitting in my small room with cold feet and a hot coffee, I dug deep to find the delete button and hit the last nail.

Feels like a penguin who is swimming peacefully in deep cold water, far away from the coast where the colony members are making a great noise and farting loudly ;)
You are the best thing that has happened to me after a long long time.
The less I say, the more I express.
जीव घुसमटला कि अस वाटत कि कोकणातल्या एखाद्या निर्मनुष्य किनाऱ्यावर अमावास्येच्या रात्री जाऊन जोरात किंचाळावे. इतक्या जोरात बेंबीच्या देठापासून ओरडावे, कि खोल समुद्रात, अमावास्येच्या अंधारात एकांकी पोहणाऱ्या मास्याला हाक ऐकू जावी.

एकटा त्याचा जीव, एकटा माझा जीव.
अंधार आणि घोंघावता वारा.
उसळत्या लाटा आणि माझी कर्कश किंचाळी.

त्याला पण कधीकधी वाटत असेल कि कोणाशी तरी बोलाव, त्याच्या अंधारमय हताश आयुष्यातल्या गोष्टी कोणाला तरी सांगाव्यात, कोणीतरी त्याच्यासाठी कान बनाव.

माझ ओरडून झाल कि मी शांत राहेन त्याच्यासाठी, त्याच्या व्यथा ऐकेन. तो गोल गोल फिरत राहील आणि बोलत राहील. बोलून झाल्यावर विचार करेल कि हा कोण मुलगा आहे आणि माझ्या आयुष्यातल्या निराश गोष्टी का ऐकतोय म्हणून. मग तो मला विचारेल आणि मी त्याला उत्तर देण्यासाठी हळू हळू पाण्यात जाईन. चेहऱ्यावर मंद हास्य ठेवून.

पाय, ढोपर, मांड्या, कंबर, छाती, हनुवटी, नाक, कान, डोळे, कपाळ, केस. मागे पुढे होण्याऱ्या लाटा. खारट  ओलावा आणि मनशांती.

जिथून आलो, तिथेच संपेन. तोही आणि मीही.