Yes, you .

Yeah, it was just because I was sort of hoping to find you before that.

Beautiful

Because life is beautiful, particularly for all the small things which we often take for granted. =)

Scribbles

Seeing the mildewed-looking paper still sitting there, bruised and slightly forgotten, I take it out and set it in front of me. Once again, using the pen, I add to it. But not the tiny, neat writings I had carefully inscribed before. I scribble. Not once. Not twice. Not just a few times. But all over it. All over my handwriting.
And then, with a pleasant smile that is suitable upon the face of someone who has just realized something nice, I toss it away.

Confirmation

It's one of those nice weather days that make me think of Vagabonding. Coincidentally, I wake up to a text from my Vagabond friend and can't help but cherish the good times. Also, it feels nice to be assured that it still feels the same kind of good. I sort of needed that.

Dear God .

Who am I kidding?

Wordlessness? <- That's a real word.

Once again, I am at a loss of words. I have a lot and nothing to say at the same time. It's just that, sometimes there are no words, even if you're an English teacher on some level. Yeah, that's about it, I guess.

Eh.

I like Pokemons. Lapras was once my favorite. She was blue, beautiful and traveled so gracefully through water. Just saying.
I liked Swat Kats too. And Oswald. And a few others.
Oh, Pokemon theme songs were the best! :D

Swing

So, this is the first "that kind of day" of this year. A spring day, obviously, as always. The kind of day on which my face switches from one expression to another, a little too quickly. The kind of day on which I'm thinking too much in too little time. The kind of day on which I sleep the entire afternoon away, wake up and see that the day is yet to be over. Yes, we're back to that. 2013, you've been nice in quite a few ways till now. Please, don't do this. And, please, just don't make April a nightmare.

Completion

I've never really given much thought to what completion is. But, I think I know now. And how grateful I am. =)

Burial Backfire

"That was a long time ago, but it's wrong what they say about the past, I've learned, about how you can bury it. Because the past claws its way out."

The above lines are from the book I've just read, The Kite Runner. It might just be the best individual book I've come across till now. Well, I can't say that I completely disagree with those lines. The thing is, you CAN bury the past, to an extent. You can bury all that is tangible - photos, objects, surroundings. You can get rid of certain things, distance yourself from a few others. It is the intangible that is tricky to deal with.

Memories. That's what they are in a vast sense. But, whoever said you cannot shove memories away and leave them to fade out gradually? You can bury memories too, but once again, to an extent.
There are entities, intangible ones, that you possess and that is yours to give away when you choose to. Along the way, you end up spending these, distributing them at particular points. But, the thing is, these are such that cannot be restored, cannot be retrieved. Once given, they are gone. You cannot regain them, you cannot take them back to give out at a different occasion. The simplest, and perhaps the least personal, example of such an entity is time. You never get it back. These entities (or loss thereof) are what make memories so recurring, so vivid.

For instance, you are doing a good job in burying the past. And then, suddenly, you reach a significant point in the present and you feel that it seems to be the perfect place to plant one of those landmarks, those milestones, only to realize that it is no longer among your possessions. You have already given it away, at a far less appropriate, perhaps even WRONG, instant. The realization causes your mind to drift back towards that time, to wander around the contours of the past that you have been burying so successfully. And it begins to claw its way out.

Always Tuned In To Preacherwave

Today was supposed to be a very difficult day. And, as expected, it wasn't easy. The institution people made me teach in the ex-Preacherwave room for a short while due to the unavailability of my usual classroom, and it almost brought tears.
But I had waken up to a text from the Preacherman, asking me the usual "Buri, ekta gaan shunbi?".
And I knew that it would be okay. He was at the airport, past immigration, yet he was preaching his music to me, just like he always did. It was all good. For now, no change. The rest I'll deal with slowly. Baby steps.

Because You Teach, Preach and Reach.

There comes a time when people just have to part ways, turn around and walk in a different direction. And this, I mean literally. Despite always having known this, it is inexplicably heartbreaking to part ways with the Preacherman - a philosopher, a mentor, an idol in whose hands I could lay my life down without hesitation, completely trusting him with it. Of course, this is no final goodbye, because, it's a small world after all (and God bless technology). But, to be oceans apart, to know that I will no longer have to spend (tolerate) at least six hours of him every week, to accept that I will not be seeing that lovable, bearded face and those animated eyebrows raised at me, claiming homework - Now how is that easy in any way?
And, every time I let my thoughts flow freely in this direction, it always had the same affect, I still cannot get past the throbbing in my head and the blurred vision.

But I know that he just has to go to the other side of the world, pick up the new building blocks and design for himself the next stage of his life full of hard work, success and happiness. And with the amount of faith I have in this man, I know that he will try his best to retain as much of his current life as possible. And that includes us.
I also know that I will never be able to accept any other Physics or Chemistry teacher. Ever. It will always be him, no matter who I'm officially taking lessons from. I will always be a student of the Preacherman. This man not only taught me science, but also life. And how can anyone else ever beat that?

The least we could do for the person who has given us so very much was to bid him a cherishable (and hopefully temporary) farewell, letting him know that he is loved beyond measure. And the most we could do in such a limited amount of time was, well, not as much as we would have liked to. But it was worth everything, though it included some of us working our asses off.

It was a beautiful evening. A large crowd of people, thirty-seven of his eleventh-graders and one very helpful, involved tenth-grader, gathered to make the occasion truly memorable for him. Suddenly, it didn't matter which school you went to, which friend circle you belonged in, what kind of student you were, how long you had been around, how different (or how uncomfortably similar) you were to whomever - People were brought together by that one thing in common: A wish to make it special for the beloved Preacherman. Of course, everyone's degree of urgency was nowhere near equal, but its mere existence within each individual was enough.

And, as we gave him things to remember us by and reasons not to leave, he shed tears out of sentiments I cannot even explain. But we knew that he knew. He knew that he was going to be permanent part of us. And, in that infinite moment, it was enough. But, then again, almost.

Reaching Out

Throughout the years, I have been close to quite a few of my teachers, but I had never imagined such a level of propinquity. The Preacherman takes this to a whole new level. In times of severe distress and/or stupefaction, when nobody else seems to make much sense, or some people just keep telling me things I don't want to hear while others choose to say nothing at all, it is this Preacherman I resort to, for help and advice. He never tells me what and what not to do, but simply asks me questions that lead me to where I should be headed. Initially, his direct questions infuriate me and I begin to feel that I have made a mistake by talking to him about things. But then the answers are right there, flowing from my own mind, and I'm thinking in the right direction once again. At the end of the day, when my troubles are under control and I've figured out what I have to do for the moment, I take some time to thank him.
And, to that, he always says, "These are the intrinsic rewards of teaching. The tuition fees, the classes and the notes may all be materialistic, but it feels priceless to reach out to someone at a completely personal level."

I probably never understood completely the degree of truth behind those words before. But when a student of my own fidgets during class, waiting for a chance to speak to me, and approaches me right after the lesson to share with me some of the hurdles she has been facing in life - it really starts to make sense. When she pours her heart out, listens intently to what I have to say to it and claims that she feels a lot better after speaking to me, I feel truly blessed. And I fully understand the meaning of the words the Preacherman tells me every time I show my gratitude towards him. I can finally comprehend the sheer magnitude of it. It all falls into place and I feel unquestionably rewarded.

Pointless Pondering

So, you wear your straight face and listen to everything everyone says, thinking, "Do they even hear themselves?" And you know that they do. But that's all they'll ever say. No more and no less. Just enough to make you wonder.

Infinite

And in that moment, I swear we were Infinite.