The Lovers and The Leavers

The lovers who turn into leavers. The leavers who you try to take as lovers. You sometimes have an inkling from the very beginning that they aren't meant for you. That no matter how much they mean to you, you are never going to be as important for them. You see it coming. Their absence. Your expectations. And the combined hurt.

You probably have thought about it in your head. You think that you will survive through this too. After all you've seen worse. You've felt far more unwelcome in their life while you were with them. I mean how much could this hurt? How bad could it be? Maybe that's why you have prepared yourself for it. Rehearsed the whole scene. Tried to guess the reaction. Yours and theirs too.

Then why did you have that lump in the throat? Why did you have to reprimand yourself all the time to be strong. You wanted to feel that it wasn't hurting. But it actually was.

That's when you realize that no matter how much you prepare yourself for someone's leaving, you are never going to be prepared until the precise moment comes. That every person in your life leaves their impressions in you.

That every person who leaves, adds to the emptiness. That every time you find someone to distract you for a while is creating a bigger hole inside you.

That's when you start living the froth. Showing the foamy parts of you. The prettier version. All made up. Because you don't want anyone to see the hole. In the hope that one day, maybe even you would not be able to feel it. Maybe. Maybe someday.

Oh, you have a Government Job??? Aish hai ..

BlogAdda's Tangy Tuesday Pick

The first thing that I hear after I tell anybody that I work as a Government Officer is this: ‘Aish hai’ (Read: You are really lucky. No work. Good pay and so many holidays.) I have lost count as to how many times have these words been spoken to me in different permutations and combinations. Each and every one of them remarking on how a government job is a dream job for them and that I am living my dream with no work and good pay. (Read bribes included) So yeah, this is a rant. Against the so-called stupid myths surrounding government officers. Here we go.

We work:

First and foremost. We work. As much as this sounds alien to you, but we, the Government officers work. I know it’s difficult for a lot of people to digest that we actually do something in return for the pay that we get, but yes, we do. We are concerned about projects getting implemented and work getting done on time. I agree it takes time to get your permission papers in place but that is not because we aren’t working, that is because we are bound by procedures. The procedures that are there to safeguard public interests.

Fixed working hours? Not always !

Another so-called perk that we Government officers ‘enjoy’ is that we have fixed number of work hours everyday. We do. But so does every other organization. And just like every other organization, there are days when we sit way past our official leaving time just to finish our work. Here’s a Ripley’s Believe it or Not for you: We have worked even on Sundays and public holidays. In offices and even from our homes. And you know what, we do not get paid extra for this extra time we put in. We do not get eligible for out-of-line promotions because in government, everyone is equal. You work or you do not work, everyone is eligible for promotion or pay according to rules. And yet that does not take away the dedication some of us have towards our jobs. 

Unlimited leaves - A big No

Picture this. A distant relative was celebrating her son’s birthday in a grand way and I was invited. I agreed but told them that I shall have to see if leaves are available. And then came the very expected remark. ‘Oh come on, Jyotsna. You are in government. You can take as many leaves as you want. We know you can manage’ I was told, followed by wink. And I could do nothing but stare in sheer surprise at the ignorance.

Here’s my reply. No. No, we cannot take any number of holidays at our will. Because just like our private counterparts, we too have bosses. As I said above, we also have work. We have procedures to be followed and plus we have limited number of leaves that are granted to us every year like any other organization. So our quota of leaves doesn’t get replenished all by itself any time of the year and hence even Government officers need to plan their leaves.   

We have rules:

Rules. We have them. We follow them. We dread them. Just like any private organization. We are known to be notorious for doing whatever we want on files. I beg to differ. The answer is again a big no. We have audit systems in place. We do have checks and balances. Yes, we do have job security. But that is not a gate pass for us in going around and doing things however we want. As I said, we have rules and regulations and policies in place that we are supposed to follow.     

We are changing:

Get over your image of old sarkari offices that you have in mind where babus are not to be found on their table and if found are just whiling away time looking for lunch and other breaks. Or the women are busy weaving sweaters or pealing pea pods for dinner. Sorry but that is the thing of the past. We are changing. We don’t go around running our personal errands in office time.

I am not saying we, as Government organizations have attained perfection. No, we have not. We still have a long way to go. Just like our country. But we have improved and are improving day by day. Just like this country. I am not saying every government officer you meet is an epitome of dedication towards their work. No, they aren’t. But not all of them are lazy buffoons who got lucky by getting a government job and all they have to do in office is while away time. We, in government have our share of ‘hard’ working and ‘hardly’ working officers. Just like any other private organization.

Some of us in Government are trying to make things work in every little way possible. I do not know how far have we succeeded or how long will we take to succeed. But next time, please do not belittle some of us or our work by saying ‘Aish hai’.  

What actually matters is inside you

I knew it was my last chance to save what I had then. A last chance to save my relationship from slipping away into oblivion. It had taken courage to dial her number. It had taken contemplation of days. Numerous drafts of messages that were written, edited and then deleted. Re-written and re-edited and when the ‘send’ button was finally pressed, I felt my breath being stuck in my windpipe till I received the reply.

It was a plea to meet. It was a plea to be able to at least put my point of view. A plea that I would be devastated if he left at this point. And she was my only messenger at that time. She was his best friend. Somebody he listened to. She was privy to everything between us. The fights, the arguments and the lovemaking too. I had felt violated in some way when I came to know that she knew everything about us. One might be the closest friend, but what happens between lovers should stay between lovers. But only I believed that, not him.

She agreed to meet over a weekend at a popular fast food chain near her office. Entire day, my stomach churned with nervousness and my heart paced like it was running a marathon. I rehearsed the lines I would say to her in my head. I wanted to tell her about the good, bad and mundane times we had shared. I wanted her to convince him to not leave me at a time when the marriage was on the cards and when I had moved mountains to convince my family. 

I reached on time and waited. I saw her walking towards me and something inside me dreaded this meeting. But I was determined to take my chance. We went inside, ordered the food and took our table.

We started talking about work and other stuff munching on the French Fries. I tried steering the conversation on the reason of our meeting. She probed what had happened. I told her whatever I could in an urgency as if my life depended on every sentence I uttered. But, my every argument for saving the relationship was counter argued with narration of every fight we had. It pinched hard that everything between us was already out there in front of a third person. My mouth was turning bitter with the bitterness in her voice. I was already declared a culprit. But like every alleged culprit I had to put my points hoping it would be my saving grace.

‘You know what I have been telling him since last three years to break up with you. He never agreed then. When you are not compatible with someone, you should just move on. What is the point of being unhappy and be in a relationship?’ she said dipping her burger in ketchup.

‘Three years?’ her words stung my ears. But we had started having arguments just six months back. How could she be convincing him to break up with me since three years? The questions loomed large. The answers of which I wasn’t ready to listen.

‘See’  she continued. ‘You have to be practical. You can’t be with someone who isn’t compatible with you. Do you understand what I am saying?’

I didn’t. Her practical advice felt like acid on my skin. I continued staring at her while she munched on her burger nonchalantly as if she were talking to somebody who was asking her advice on where to buy reasonably priced groceries.

‘Have you seen yourself in the mirror?’ I heard her.

‘Huh?’ I asked.

‘Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Just look at yourself. You are overweight. Much more than him. Don’t you think he has already been too kind in accepting you this way? I mean he looks way better than you since he isn’t fat like you.’ she said.

I stared.

‘I know you both were in a relationship and all that. But we have to be practical. I mean which guy would accept your weight while he is so fit. So I think you should tone down. Not just physically but also as a woman. Accept whatever he says. Do as he wants. He is the man after all. Plus he is accepting you with the weight. No man would want to be with you if you are healthier than him.’

Her words hung around me like stale air. I choked on them. She was another ‘woman’ I was talking to. An educated woman. An educated working woman.

And there she was. Telling me that I didn’t deserve my relationship just because I was overweight? That I was receiving some favour because the guy was fitter than me? That it was absolutely okay to pull down a woman by another woman just because she had more layers of fat around her than her man?

The noise around me had suddenly increased. A child bawled on the adjacent table. Something was nauseating me. I felt claustrophobic. Because there were too many people around? Or was it something else? Maybe the thought? That the only parameter a woman lays down for another woman for being in a relationship with somebody was her weighing scale.

The relationship eventually ended after I found that the real reason for the misunderstanding was not me but his interest in somebody else. But it was too late till then. Because somewhere deep inside, I blamed myself and the weight for everything that happened. Because I was judged for the outer appearance that I carried. Until I accepted myself for what I was. A person with stories to narrate, a person with poetry inside, a person who was not just her appearance.              

  

Did you know that:

a. 69% of men agree that their judgement of women is based on their looks.

b. 64% of women agree that the judgments passed on them have affected their ability to reach their true potential.

c. 70%of women agree that majority of judgments on women are from family members or friends rather than strangers.

d. 72% of women agree that working women face more judgments on their looks or their clothes than housewives.

“I’m breaking stereotypes based on appearance by sharing my experience for the #IAmCapable activity at BlogAdda in association with Nihar Naturals.”

In a heartbeat

‘In a heartbeat.’ A voice reverberated in my ears as he tried to push his hands inside my dress. I could feel his warm breath as he nuzzled my neck. I closed my eyes.

‘In a heartbeat’ - an echo.

*Jolt*

His lips were on mine, hands caressing my hair. My eyes closed again. ‘Being around you is like walking on a double edged sword. You know me, without me saying much. That makes me feel vulnerable. Raw. You read me. Sometimes I am afraid to even think in front of you fearing you would read my thoughts. And I reprimand myself into staying away from you. But then, isn’t it wonderful to have at least one person in the world who understands without saying? That’s why you are the double edged sword’. My own words, coming from a lifetime ago that I had said to somebody.

*Jolt*

 ‘All good?’ Rohan asked looking at me intently.

‘Yes’ I replied, running my fingers in his hair and pulling him closer to me.

Respond. I told myself. The body obeyed. While the heart sat there wearing a look swinging between sarcasm and disdain. I felt like a leaf that had detached from its tree and continued to sway in the direction the wind took it. I continued functioning the way I was supposed to. Work. Cook. Travel. Laugh. Like a functioning adult. The leaf missed its tree and I missed my soul.

‘In a heartbeat’. A voice. And then a jolt.

I felt my dress being removed over my head. His hands on an exploration spree. I tried to close my eyes and concentrate on reality. Although it felt as if I was seeing everything from a glass case as a third person. Refusing to feel anything and let anything affect me. Because I was inside that glass case. Nobody could see through it. Except that somebody. ‘In a heartbeat’ - that somebody had said. That somebody with whom I shared my brokenness and whatever little wholeness was left inside me. That somebody who was my best friend but who had a best friend which wasn’t me.  

*Jolt*

He entered. I sighed. Mind fogged up and numbness took over. In the heart. The body responded though. He was happy seeing the body respond. Because he never noticed anything else. I don’t know how much time passed. The only thing that burned my ears throughout was a voice and his words.    

Rohan slept with his breath on my naked back and I lay awake with my thoughts. I had no clue how and why did I get into this relationship. But could you call it a relationship when the only thing both of you shared was the bed? When neither he nor you cared what you were going through? I tried to sleep.

‘If I was with you, would you have found out that I wasn’t feeling anything; that my heart wasn’t into it? I had asked somebody after telling him how empty I felt after I was touched by Rohan the first time and every time after that.

‘In a heartbeat’, he had said looking straight into my eyes in a voice that had haunted me since then. The sword put a gash where it hurt the most, where it was going to hurt the most. That was the last time I saw him.

- Posted for Prompt Nights: Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction. – Where we can opt to write either a poem on truth or create a fiction piece. Or perhaps we can combine both! 
- A Week For Writing - Longings

Will you be my tomb?

Blue like my thoughts

Deep like my remorse

Your incessant roar

Like my emotions gone hoarse

Cold like my heart

Vast like my delusions  

Your recurrent crashing waves

Like my imminent apprehensions

Hollow like my chest

Wild like my fears

Your bottomless water

Like my salty grey tears

Dear Ocean,

Engulf me like wildfire

Will you be my tomb?

I seem to be tired

Let me rest in your womb!

For The Tuesday Platform at Real Toads