Second Half

I should have seen it coming before I left. It's been barely 48 hours since I returned to Delhi and it already feels like I've been here a week. Cheesy as it sounds, I never imagined going home (Bombay) for a vacation, it's just one of those scenarios that you don't ever want to believe. I can't remember much of the seven days I was there, snatches of entering and rapidly exiting home and a considerable amount of hugging flash by. Nothing substantial, nothing to hold on to. And yet, this is a different kind of homesickness, nowhere close to the pining for home on July 31, 2011.

This is bitter, cynical almost. I've taken a bite of the problems the folks have been going through the past five months and it was almost cruel to just leave them to fend for themselves for (at least) five more. I don't know what will change when I do return for good but right now I think that simply my presence could ease things along. I'm not superman but I'm the best they've got now. So I've begun the countdown once more. I have a strange addiction to responsibility.

Arriving in Nizamuddim was accompanied by none of July's excitement, I wasn't happy to come back. I had the worst possible exit last Saturday, I was so glad to get the hell of Delhi. I'd never felt lonelier here than I did that day. Turns out, a lot of that has stayed. I generally don't mind being alone but this is different. The week off didn't do much to lessen the disgust. I know I should blurt it out and quit messing my head over it. I let a great opportunity pass yesterday, but then I'm not exactly great at speaking my mind when I need to the most. There are no points for being selfless when the right thing to do is to transfer your turmoil to the jackasses responsible for starting the shit in the first place.

In some good news, I'm not very angry now and no longer want to kill them. I think. But since my track record at giving people what they deserve isn't great either, it's safe to say that it won't happen. Bless them.

So the anger is ebbing, the loneliness remains but has a lot to do with the fact that I'm still stuck in Lajpat Nagar and haven't worked at all. In my workhorse lifestyle, inertia and general joblesssness is a major cause of short-lived depression. Distractions just haven't been forthcoming, the holiday wasn't a strong enough one. I know that once I begin work on Muzamil's story in a couple days none of this will matter, but it can't hurt to whine until then. In better news, Ardhra will be back day after and then none of this will ever matter.