i woke up in the morning today…with a heavy hangover..got dressed packed my stuff and here I am at work..not that writing posts and blogs are a part of it and i have never written one before, but somethinng struck me today..I move on everyday,I move on every moment,probably to better and greener ventures in life but somewhere there my roots are stuck.The place wherein I come from and belong to is stuck somewher amidst utter confusion and lunatic thoughts.I feel for my mother,my father,my family ,my friends,the common people,the cats ,the dogs,the living and the dead.I feel for DARJEELING…The only common thing that my life shares with the place where I am right now is the consonant “D”..D for Delhi and D for Darjeeling.
I everyday hate to get up with a hangover and then struggle my way in to work and then take out the best within me and give it to people who are so not common for the cause that we share.The Common cause of Gorkhaland..

But is this cause really common or is it just centred around a few specials in life..The strike is again on from today..I asked my mother,father,family,friends,the common people,the cats,the dogs ..Are you All Game for it..But I guess the silence within them conveyed the fact that they had lost the art of playing.The so called Game of Gorkhaland.so who all are playing the game?

The common man..the daily wage earner.the tea estate workers,the students,mothers ,fathers,brothers,sisters,grandmothers,grandfathers..or all..Who all are playing this unfruitful Game and who will emerge winners or loosers..Will we be able to win Gorkhaland or will we loose Darjeeling the queen of hills..

Thw winning of Gorkhaland sounds an amazing dream but we all know deep within that it will always remain one not because we do not deserve it or we are wrong but for the very fact that the Gorkhaland movement is targeted towards putting a few “SPECIALS “into the celebrity category..We all can name them and count them with our fingers.even if we use all of them we only have TEN fingers to count so is this movement centered around TEN such individuals who when get what they want will grasp it and take it away from our sight and our mind and stack up with thier riches and luxuries in life.This is the fate of the so called Gorkhaland movement.

I sometimes wish i was home not because I miss it but for the fact that from here it sounds and seems so beautiful..just the name itself but sadly i know how badly its suffering back there..I am still not used to referring to it as Gorkhaland because not because I dont support it but for the fact that the name does not spell out happy and great memories for a young individual like.Darjeeling gave me birth,bought me up and its all because of that beautiful place that I can actually write what hurts me today and express it to the world.I hate to see my school close..I hate to see my college burnt..i hate to see the veg momo shop in singamari close..I hate to see the ambassadors of singmari lines not running..I hate to see my little sister not being able to make it to her music classes..I hate to see the alu dums not being sold..i hate to see Benis close..i hate to hear silence at Buzz..i hate to see keventers empty..I hate silence in Mahakal..i hate to see my Dad home …I hate to see those empty streets ..i hate to see no youth in town..I hate to see fashion in the form of our very own Gorkhaland police..I hate to see the smile and the charm being lost,the redness of the cheeks going down..I hate to see my Darjeeling cry..

We need to to stop Darjeeling from cryin…The tears are fallin…