Thursday, May 28, 2009

Of emotional farewells, and gratitude for all the paperclips

It's been a long journey, and not one that would've been complete without you. When we first met, I was very young and as unrefined as they come. You were the high society kinds, someone the whole of silicon valley spoke of. I was proud of making it big enough to have you.

I agree, you were the one who changed for me. You even moulded into me, rising and lowering yourself according to my whims and fancies. Hope it wasn't too difficult for you. I also hope that you have loved me as much as I loved you, even though no words were exchanged.

I want to thank you for watching my back and covering my ass. As I move on, I realize what had inherently gone wrong between you and me. You were my comfort zone, and every once in a while, one needs to get out of it to discover the world outside. In a way, you and my possessiveness for you, describes the whys and wherefores of what I am leaving behind.

So yes, as I prepare for what could turn out to be the worst-yet-to-come, dear chair, I will miss you the most. Fare thee well, my friend - hope you find an owner worthy of you. And please, wish me luck.

--

The cab ride to the farewell-lunch place lasted just about 15 mins, but in those 15 mins I saw the last few years in front of me. You know, like memories scrolling in bright flashy lights in a marquee.

Those two had joined a few months before me, supposedly roughened up by their experience in Army. I believed to have been roughened up by life. Yesterday we remembered all of the last few years.

"Naive", he started.
"Full of hope", I added.
"Well, we still have some hope left", the other said.
"Oh, well, hope of a different kind."
"Grown up hope. Can you believe it?"

"Remember the time when I screamed on the phone and the whole office heard it", I pulled out a fragment of nostalgia.
The other two burst out laughing at the memory of a frizzy haired and firebrand me.

"And how solving little problems made you feel like King of the universe."
"Yeah well, now the EODs (end of days) don't seem like the end of the world."
"Remember how those two fought."
"And how we ducked under the table, trying to control our laughter."
"We have calmed down so much."
"Hmm, yeah", the other two agreed.

Ah, well. All that roughening up was followed by substantial sandpapering, I suppose.
Needless to say, most of yesterday was spent sulking.
Now if only overrated nostalgia could pave the way, I would like to get some real emotions through.

3 comments:

Cynic in Wonderland said...

age is a sandpaper no? hmmmmm. Polished gem!

Shishir said...

:)

Mo said...

cyn - yes, sandpaper - everything seems mellower