Friday, February 18, 2011

My Beloved Place

Presidency. Presidency College, Kolkata. College Street. Boi-para. The gate. The huge tree beside it. Main building. Lover’s lane. Avenue of shady walks and the great destination called the Tank, where something funny is sure to meet your eyes or atleast some chaapa flowers scattered, enticing you to pick them up. Our postgraduate dept. Every morning I rush like a lunatic for a class, either ending up for an empty class as or an already ongoing class. Sorry, sir … Madam, may I …

Shantiniketan. Admission test. Overheard some girls talking about interview at Presidency the very next day. Exam. Evening. Rushing back home. The department’s computer room. I knew I’ll not get through anyway. So, I may as well be a little cheeky. It’s a lost case. ACM,DB,PR,MA,SD. Intertextual questions, basic questions and my huge answers, referring back to the epics. Everyone listening to me. I laughed aloud suddenly. Things easened up. Clear vibes that I got through. I was leaving. As I shut the door behind, I heard a chorus – o ki bhalo,na? First love. Presidency.

My choice of leaving science and opting for love, literature, was justified in one word. Presi?!!

Our story began. Open friendships. Trying to know people. Trying to understand what and how ACM and DKB taught. Half things going over the head but then, the mesmerizing effect. I could feel my brains being stimulated and encouraged. This is it. This is the place to be. I belong here. A strange new world of intellectualism and ideas, everything that I felt but was refused earlier, came back and got grounds this time. I felt so connected, so intellectually supported and at home. I believed in me once again. Land of faith. I wasn’t alone here.

Presidency gave me a spine – to rise and fight back and come out from a relationship I had been suffering for 4 yrs. An abusive relationship that I had given my best to. Each and every rope I had tied fell loose and I broke, like a glass doll. Till December I suffered. The gap behind canteen -- hide, weep, insults. Presidency te giye to khub nongrami shikhecho. Chhi chhi. Agey koto lokkhi shanto chile. Akhon? @#$%^&*!$&((*^)#$ Presi hugged me with empty alleys, the Geography dept. balcony and a golden sunshine by which I promised I will kill myself. But the very next day, when I was supposed to leave this world, Presi showed me a reason to live, a little love. I lived. I gained.

The roads and walks and pathways around Presi knows my life almost. Each path has many stories, moments, events, incidents, scattered laughter and insane jokes. Friends. The best ones I have got in my entire life. As close as school buddies. A motherly girl and some lovely ladies who would want me as a sister. So much comfort they gave me. And naming me, Virgin Queen which I choose to take as compliment. Food, guys, trees, numerous dogs, garbage, sudden temples, libraries, derozio hall. And some awesome viva days! Some moments to remember.

Two years. Presidency has given me knowledge. I have always felt Presi is my saviour – intellectually, emotionally, even physically. I changed my look slightly here though no weight loss, sadly. And guys! Nice fan following in two years. Wow! Facebbok. Farmville. My beloved blog. October posts. And some of the best creations of my life till date. Dreams and wild conjectures. A half dreamt story … certain simple, ecstatic joys -- romantic, clean and pure.

Leaving Presidency.

It is one word now that has got mixed up with strong emotions of love, hope, dreams, illusions, brokenhearts, adda, stupidity, strong ideas, beliefs, efforts and sheer, sheer love – literature and the people around literature. Words and the lack of it. Chaos and eros.

Presi -- I’m yours.

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