Thursday, February 18, 2010


There's a funny thing that bideshis here say sometimes - that nothing in Bangladesh is real. Or maybe this is a statement I made up myself, and made myself believe that someone else uttered it so that I could repeat it guiltlessly.

Anyway, this is likely less to do with the country and more to do with the bideshis themselves. To have come so far to a place so unlike their home, that they end up having no point of reference when they leave. Sometimes, it feels like the things that happened here never took place at all.

I felt like this when I went back to Singapore. I tried bringing up Dhaka in conversations, to reintroduce that point of reference so I wouldn't feel so unanchored, so lost. It worked sometimes, especially with those who had felt similar sentiments at some point in their lives. More often than not, I felt like I was recounting a dream - an interesting conversation point with no real consequence.

A few days ago, I did something on impulse that has very real consequences. I broke someone's heart - and I say that in the least melodramatic way possible. But the truth is really that severe, and my actions will likely alter someone's life in a way that had never been contemplated or considered by either of us.

This is a lesson I learnt from the past - that I don't do anything if I don't act on impulse, if I don't follow my gut. Because with time, my brain thinks too much and I'm pretty good at talking myself out of just about any difficult decision I have to make.

So I suppose it was a good thing that I didn't stop to consider the consequences before I did what I did, and said what I said. If I had any inkling or suspicion about just how bad it could get, you can be damned sure that I would have no trouble easing myself off that platform.

What's done is done, and I can only hope that time will do its magic and help us make sense of everything again.