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Sundays

There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest  was very welcome. I loved to sleep.  I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for  midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean  that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon.  The pastor, in fact,  would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother  after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened  \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe  tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The on...

Nessie the Lonely Monster


I wonder if the Lockness monster ever gets lonely. You find it prowling the deep keeping all to itself. At the depths that it swims around in, it can hardly have an active social life. Few creatures would take a deep breath and go down contentedly into the murky depths.

Life can also be like that. There may be hundreds of creatures swimming around in the pool that is everyday life, but some find themselves always alone.

Early in life I found that I lacked the joie de vivre when others were around. I would rather curl up with a story book. Playing football or such energetic games were I found not my cup of tea. I did like playing hide and seek, but those days when I enjoyed it were all too short.

Since I disliked the rough and tumble of life, I grew a shell like a mollusc. Gastropods, I believe they call them.  But what it is in a name, I thought as the exterior hardened.

School life, with a principal with bulging eyes and a swift cane that he employed in keeping the young lambs from straying, was not very encouraging. Then there was mathematics. I hated figures. Maths class brought the fear of the unknown in me to the surface. The unknown, you will readily agree, is the greatest dread.

All through school, I had very few friends or perhaps none at all. There were very few birthday party invitations that I received.  Even if I did, I was too tongue tied to enjoy the occasions.

An uncle of mine joined the school as art teacher. This uncle used to embarrass me my asking questions about how things were at home. As I was of a retiring disposition, I felt very uncomfortable with my schoolmates listening in.

Among those whom I came to know during school life was a fellow who was the son of a reputed film actor of those days. The reason he became friendly with me was because his parents were tenants of an aunt of mine.  What I later came to know was that he had led a questionable and scandalous life, getting expelled from one school after another. My aunt strictly warned me to avoid his company.

Then one day he went missing. It was about a month afterwards that I saw him near the school. He nonchalantly confided in me that he had fled Kolkata after committing something unspeakable and criminal. It was his father’s connections that possibly saved him from being hauled before a juvenile court. He was expelled from my school too.

I tripped and stumbled through school life till one day the eleven year sentence was at last over. I was free.

College life brought a bit of cheer. The rigours of discipline that school life entailed were not there. I could stay out for longer hours. A bright spot was the college festival. But I never took an active part in them. I was content in being a spectator. Soon enough I was alone again.

Through the years, it was during the Durga pujas when the city turned out for four days of festivities that I felt particularly alone. In the evenings, I found myself on the streets wandering from pandal to pandal by myself. It was never an enjoyable experience, but staying at home during the four days was worse.

It was Christmas that brought a bit of cheer into my other otherwise drab existence. But it was only a single day in the calendar and passed by swiftly. So did New Year. It used to be a holiday then.
Professional life as a journalist changed certain things. Work ensured that I stayed occupied. I also loved my work and spent extra hours behind my desk. My diffidence came in the way of becoming a reporter, but I did not regret it. I got an occasional assignment in the early days and that kept me happy.

The thirty five years flew by and my professional life came to an end. There were only a few with whom I became friends during office days.


Therefore my thoughts go occasionally to Nessie, as the Loch Ness monster is sometimes affectionately called. I find a kindred soul in the fellow swimming alone in the depths. Perhaps it is lonely too.  

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