Tanha Tanha...

What am I doing here? What the heck am I doing to my life??

A friend used to say, “Nobody is an island”. I used to think, “Why not?”. I believe in the principle - “You have no right to bother others”. I try to respect others’ space as much as I love my own space. I am used to and even comfortable with the bheed-mein-bhi-tanha (alone-even-in-an-assemblage) mode. Sometimes I even doubt if I am a psychotic loner.

So, when I landed this country of windmills and dikes and tulips, I thought that it is going to be easy for me. Well, a loner wouldn’t and shouldn’t mind if he lives in Madras or in Mars. But then I realized I was wrong. So very wrong. I miss people – my people. Now I don’t know if I should rejoice or sulk at the realization that I am not a psychotic loner.

Things are pretty fine during the days, when work keeps me busy. To make myself busy after work, I have got myself addicted to sitcoms. The King Of Queens, The Nanny, Dharma and Greg and Will and Grace consume two solid hours of my week days. Then I talk to my flatmates about every nonsense on earth. I have heard my flatmates’ life histories at least thrice. The toughest part of the day is the few minutes after I lie on the bed and before I fell asleep. That is when the voice-inside-my-head shouts, “What are you doing here? What the heck are you doing to your life??”. Damn.

I have got the monthly pass for Pathe and my usual weekend program is to watch almost every movie screened at Pathe. Then I try to burry myself in books. These days I have lost interest in Sidney Sheldon’s mystery novels. May be I am too old and cynical to appreciate mysteries. Nowadays I prefer Sue Townsend’s eccentric comedies. My God! Am I turning into an eccentric?

I spend my days wishing a lot of things. I wish there is somebody with me to watch all the stupid sitcoms with me and laugh at all the stupid jokes. I wish there is somebody to threaten me with dire consequences if I sing. I wish there is someone to talk to when I cook dinner. I miss my office in Madras. I miss Pondicherry beach. I miss idlies. I miss panipuri. I miss my mom shouting at me for no reason.

God! Why am I blabbering? My salary here is a digit more than what I get back in Madras. My resume is getting heavier. I get to see different people and places. Above all, I’ll be back home soon.
I should be glad.
I am glad.
Am I not?
Am I?

Crap. I should get over my addiction to BSB’s Show me the meaning of being lonely and Shaan’s Tanha Dil before they make me crazy.