ennui

ramble.

2008-09-05T02:50:00.002+05:30

to my two,otherwise imbecile, friends from maharashtra.
thank you guys for making those quick five minute STD calls to let me know you guys are having fun, squatting on the chowpatty beach and eating bhel.thank you for calling up and making no sense whatsoever and making weird grunts and chuckles from behind leaving a lot to my imagination.thank you for caring to call up even though i have never managed to call you guys back- EVER.
i would have said this to you over the phone,but the thing is i have short memory and my phone has conked out-AGAIN.
P.S-to rishi and moolah,i realise i am much in lao with the name 'landline'.i would do anything to keep that name.even at the cost of never buying another phone.
P.S 2-i shall post again,umm,sometime.okay?

2008-08-13T20:13:00.000+05:30

its all over now baby blue...

pffftt...

2008-06-21T03:37:00.002+05:30

Vulnerability strikes past midnight, I have noticed.
Sometimes the internet refuses to work and I am compelled to stay up late and indulge in very cryptic Microsoft painting, and listen to 'Rocky Mountain High' a zillion times over which is all fine just that they conjure the most surreal dreams after I snooze off. But then, I aint complaining.
I have very tough times ahead of me. More than half the world population refuses to believe that I can make a fulfilling career out of studying Comparative Literature for my Masters. I find that particularly disconcerting mostly because I rather like the subject (the little that I know about it, that is) and the entire circumstance of being frowned upon and shown subtle disapproval is turning out to be very vexing. I also hate the fact that all this is working me up and egging me to think over my MA plans.
The entrance test questionnaire had absolutely bowled me over and for once I felt I was doing the right thing in life. It made me feel I was finally doing what I should have done three years back. This whole thing had been a very impulsive affair and you could say I went with my instincts and landed up in a department I least expected to see myself in even a few months back. My gut feeling tells me I can very well go kick a few smart asses if my going gets good.
If not, oh well I better not think.
You see, in the end, what should ideally matter is how utterly overwhelming the sense of accomplishment is. In my case, almost as had been apprehended, my sentiments on graduating weren’t exactly ecstatic. I did decently for myself, you can be sure. But somehow the sense of ‘accomplishment’, as it were, eluded me. The graduation has left me hollow with very little to fill myself with. The papers may proclaim me to be an honours graduate, but frankly, I know what to believe. The education wasn’t adequately enriching or maybe I was worst suited to be a historian. Ironically that seems to be the case with a lot of people around me. Funnier still, they seem to be unperturbed and wish to go on like this for another two years. Whereas I have been relentlessly plagued by bouts of conscience for about a year and a half now and refuse to keep mugging cartloads of unintelligible Xerox simply for the sake of earning another degree, anymore.
I would rather stay put with a discipline that arouses in me a sense of fulfillment once its over and done with. I would opt for this over anything else in the world even if that secures my life as a compulsive bekaar!

2008-06-08T20:28:00.003+05:30

procrastination may not necessarily be one of my biggest unfounded talent,but i have realised its something i derive a lot of cheap pleasure from.the blog hasnt seen any new posts lately.but that shouldnt promptly suggest taht it has been lying slopped in one corner,unattended and unloved.the owner has been obliging enough to drop in once everyday all this while,even a couple of times when curiosity reigned supreme and it has also been given a much needed make over.the header happens to be my candidest representation.the rest are too make-believe and they do wonders to my otherwise acne prone skin.in short,they represent what i am not-a less flawed passable little beauty!
thus,this.
days havent been entirely uneventful.infact,i have had my share.a little more eventfulness,and i would happily trade my life.a blogmeet eventually happenned.so did propping pretty on The Park wash basin.leching at obnoxiously pretty women happens to be a pet obsession these days.but make up,too much of it,even if its on someone else freaks me out.especially if its glittery and blue and hideous.
the haircut happenned.what with inihos supervising from behind,no goof up tok place.the split ends were generously chopped off and the sides snipped mercilessly.i know am rambling but the hair cut,having happenned a year and a half later,was long overdue.so the tresses look managable.although i could really do without the fringes and locks dangling from either side.thank you.
oh and i graduated.yaayness to that.need i mention that i was busy speculating the overly bloated and intriguingly symbolic chicken ala kiev at Oly when the results came out?the rest of the evening was spent in the park loo with solo and also outside the golden dragon,deciding whether barging into a surprise party of someone i have never met(read,poojo c.),totally uninvited,should be a nice prospect or not.we decided against it.and the woman ended up having a nice party without any unwanted attrusion.so all is good.we are happy innocuous people.we dont rob people off their happiness.so there!
the firang tyash bangali fraand came and went.so did inihos.the latter will be much missed.no comments on the former.the Dee leaves tomorrow in a tortorous flight that promises to reach him to his destination in five hours flat,via ahmedabad!!!oodles of tch tch for the dude.
i would want another blog meet soon.
and thistime,lets not order that ala kiev again,okay?

2008-05-19T18:27:00.003+05:30

one more to go. and unlike what i had been thinking offlate, no, i wont throw up my hands in the air and go "wheeee" when it finally gets over. its like tasting a bit of the meat and then being asked to scamper off. i have tasted it and i wanna stay. i am happy and content with myself just now. and i thought i would write it down lest it goes away from me later. that happens a lot with me. i wonder if my sensibility matures every waking second sometimes. that alone can explain why i blatantly diss what i had celebrated even an hour back.
this i know will make me a very happy woman:)

ghum nei.kaj nei.

2008-05-03T03:06:00.001+05:30

three fifteen in the morning and i am still trying to figure how facebook works.
gah!

pornication.

2008-04-18T22:26:00.004+05:30

semesters depress me.muchly.the body clock has gone awry and refuses to readjust;which leaves me in a very wakeful state at the most unearthly hours.something i would have appreciated had i been given the task of watching lizards mate.its a most fascinating thing to watch,by the way.also the act of shooing trespassers off their den makes for an intriguing viewing.
instead,i am expected to mug cartloads of xerox material.something i,as has become very apparent by now,am not very adept in.the bed remains strewn with odd pieces of paper,stacks of diaries,a very discolored umbrella,some dogeared reading material.i barely manage to fit in the midst of all this everynight,inefficiently squirming my way through threadbare jholas,umbrellas and empty bottles.
its time i treated myself to some nice 'mills and boons'.given my life has hit an all time low,and will continue doing so for sometime,i could really do with some porn:)

another tag.

2008-04-11T19:33:00.005+05:30

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER?way back.bong connection,i guess.
2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?last read 'Chronicle of a death foretold'.will read 'Istanbul' next.
3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?snakes and ladders.
4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE? robbar.
5. FAVORITE SMELLS? the whiff after a candle is put out.petrol.new paint.shoe polish.
6. FAVORITE SOUND? the clanging of trams.sirens.old advertisements on radio. ghu-ghu pakhir daak.
7.WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD: depravity.failure.denial.feeling unloved.
8.FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE? all that happenned the day before. i tend to forget otherwise.
9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE? i dont have a favorite.
10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME:chompa and chameli.
11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "If i had a lot of money i would...blow it up for sure:)
12.DO YOU DRIVE FAST? might.if i knew how.
13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?nah.
14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?cool.
15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?i had a shiny red bus of plastic once upon a time.
16. FAVORITE DRINK?frooti.
17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD .....rearrange my life
18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?never had it.
19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?red.definitely.streaks,but.
20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.been in kolkata forever.
21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?kho-kho
22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU: a sweetheart.
23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?dusty suitcases.and a verry dusty carpet.
24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?i wouldnt trade myself for any other being.
25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?i used to be a morning person.i prefer staying up late these days.
26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?sunny side up:)
27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?home.
28. FAVORITE PIE?dhushh.khaina:
29.FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?chocolate.butterscotch.
30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST? pongy papaya,i guess.

i tag little boxes,pongy papaya,arnab,dreamy and ad libber.

nightswimming

2008-04-08T01:06:00.002+05:30

as it turns out,night is the ideal time i could fall in love with myself.
now,falling in love with oneself doesnt necessarily require a right time or place.you can just about fall in love with yourself at the least auspicious moments.while crossing the road perhaps.
i do.i fall in and out of love with myself while crossing the road.i could be particularly elated at myself for making something as commonplace as crossing a road seem so interesting for me as well as for people around and fall head over heels on me for simply that.
but at night its a different ball game altogether.
i go for random walks around my locality,just for the information,at night and NOT because i have to cut down on the extra fat.that does probably lurk somewhere as a possible cause.but the walks are mostly meant to catch up with myself.and for people like me who couldnt care two hoots about the world,talking to self while walking can be darn therapeutic.
staying up late works for me.
so does random staring at the mirror and talking to the walls.
the other day mum barged into my room at two in the morning only to find me staring at a very red wall and talking baloney.her face contorted in a way i have never seen before.and it wasnt expression she would have donned to dissapprove my staying up late.its the face one makes on giving birth to a baby that closely resembles an ape,with verrry hairy features,tail,et al.
i probably reminded her of characters from far off lands ,preferably from marquez's stories who were insomniac,rocked on an armchair all night and talked baloney to the mute wall when not devouring fists full of wet earth from the garden.
have you heard the sound of bare feet swishing across the crude floor at night?or of clocks ticking in immaculate sequence one after the other?it seems as though my room comes alive with distinctive noises i could never perceive at daytime however discreet i stayed.i stay up for them.i stay up simply to admire the lovely motif the shadows cast on the glass showcase atop the kalo almirah.the neon incandescence falling against the palm leaves conjure the most fantastical silhouettes unlike what i have often viewed in cliche postcards and tourist brochures.thats where my sublime rests at night.amidst mango trees and random swishing of feet against cool mosaic.thats where my soul hovers at night.and when dawn breaks,the noises surreptitiously creep into lost crevices and tuck themselves away.

myriad hues

2008-04-05T20:06:00.003+05:30

ages back when plastic crayons and pigtails with lacy ribbons still ruled my world,i had decided i would like to become a cartoonist.considering this ambition had loomed large in my life at a time when kids usually dream of becoming doctors and pilots is an amazement in itself.many a sleepless afternoons were whiled away in the baranda sprawled across the cool mosaic drawing pictures of unsteady men and rather ugly women,for however hard i tried i never could contrive the right eyes and the lips appeared disproportionate on most occassions.another picture i never grew tired of drawing was of a cat as big as a house and a tree all standing on the same plane and with mountains behind them overlooking a verry verry green meadow.i dont know why but i simply couldnt come out of that fixation.everytime a tried drawing something else,the cat always figured on the paper.and soonafter the tree,the hill,the house and the green meadow followed suit.i was much in love with the plastic crayons.the wax ones tended to conjure grotesque impressions on the facing page,and thus were much hated.
my first art teacher,a girl in her early twenties and allegedly a little cranky in the head used to sit with me for about an hour every saturday morning.she would often talk out loud to herself or smile sheepishly at me while i drew purple skies and green homes with great gusto.and inspite of whatever rumours did their rounds in the para about her apparent paglamo,i found her to be a nice,innocuous company who effortlessly lit up my insipid saturday mornings.
my art teacher in school was a major bully who held a wooden scale in her hand more often than she held a pencil.painting was more of an ordeal than a fascination in her class.her "katha bolchho keno.scale chhure marbo" boomed resonantly across the room petrifying little ten year olds compelling whatever artistic inclination they had developed over the years to rapidly fritter away.
gradullay in the years to come,although art and painting still occupied some place in my life( i have always drawn cards for teachers' day.i still do),the fascination died down somewhere.so did my 'beeg cartoonist' ambition.in a while painting had taken a back seat.drawing was reduced to a yearly affair indulged only when there's a birthday or a teachers day around the corner.
the change didnt exactly happen overnight.but i guess i was so caught up in everything new that was entering my life and at the regularity of being mindboggled by something or the other,that the change escaped me.i never realised when my most coveted dream rendered itself inconspicuous and silently slipped out of the backdoor.

and for once i wouldnt blame my folks for not taking me seriously(i hold it beeg against my parents for not really egging me to 'learn' or do much in life).painting is the cheapest hobby one can culture.ever.all you need is a drawing book and a box of crayons or maybe a paintbrush and some colours. i really could have stuck to my beeg dream.fact remains,i didnt.
and i dunno why i am saying this but i really believe,when i abandoned painting,a plethora of colours also happenned to abandon me.
and they havent returned since...

Barnoporichoy

2008-03-22T22:33:00.005+05:30

A for AbolTabol.not the book.but my thoughts and expressions.very abstract and verry abantor.
B for bekar.what i am mostly.during larger part of the day.and even night.every waking hour.
C for Chompa and Chameli,names of my unborn twins.
D for Digama saheber cake.also,Darjeeling.
E for emni emni.for all the times i had surreptitiously crept into the kitchen to devour
mouths full of powdered horlicks.'ami toh emni emni khai'
F for fyataru.blokes like you and me who love digressing the system.who love defying everything under the sun simply for the heck of it.who have kept "cholchhena cholbena" mantra alive.
G for gadha.the most commonplace and hackneyed expletive in bangla lexicon.
H for hori-bell.(read,horrible)what each and every bangali goes through at some point in their lifetime.
I for isshhh.the most instinctive reply to all things monotonous or disgusting.
J for jadi...a regular in all utopic speeches.
K for Kak.whose meat tastes bitter and is therefore used widely in cooking shukto.
L for lal."lal ekta moja pore chheleta railing e duley jay." or,"lal ajke amar kacheh rajniti boro hoye gechhi je hay,ki kora jay..."
M for mushkil.something that is virtually engulfing me at all waking moment.
N for Na.the immediate response on being requested to run a chore.also,N.A.as in not applicable.a term that is fast becoming synonymous to my existence.
O for obak.something i have been becoming so randomly and at such unprecedented circumstances that it aint funny anymore.
P for peekchaars.(read,pictures)that i have uploaded lately on orkut.go check!
Q for quintessential bangalis.with their accents and monkey tupis.and polticks and machher jhol.sigh!what will i do without them?
R for robbar.not just the day.but also the magazine i am currently very verry addicted to.
S for Sourav.kono katha hobena!
T for taka kori.that i hope i will have lots of.someday...
U for ulto.another trait that is fast eclipsing with my persona.
V for Veto.that is keeping India from becoming a permanent member of the Security Council.hhhrrmmph!
W for Workculture.something the entire human civilisation should learn from us.
X for Xerox.that uncannily is pronounced ZErox.rather than the ideal SKErox.beats me why.
Y for yaay!(that the tag is finally getting over)
Z for Zoroastrianism.that i find way too appealing and intriguing for some ineffable reason.

I tag darkling,coffee stain,moo-lah business,dreamy and inihos.

ennui

2008-02-20T21:28:00.002+05:30

uneventfulness is a disgusting thing to deal with.i hate whiling away time doing absolutely nothing substantial and then later blaming myself for the same.and its incredible how exhaustive and elastic this 'nothingness' is.i feel spent and content everyday as i walk back home,having done nothing really to be so filled and exuberant about.i fear being a vegetable.inert.nonchalant.immuned against changing.i fear i would start living a life where today would be no better or worse than tomorrow.it would eclipse with tomorrow and the day before.its a terrible feeling,this!like a film stuck at a point and reiterating previous shots over and over again conjuring abundant monotony.
i need an exorcist to shoo bad thoughts off my mind.too many things on my mind these days.plenty to read,watch and visit.lots of things left undone.too many errands to run.stuff to purchase.plans to make.calculate.make note of.and too little time.
procrastination is probably not a trait you would like to rejoice over.but then,you are not left with much choice when it compulsively thrusts itself at you.submission then becomes the only way out.

the old road is rapidly fading...

2008-02-04T23:33:00.001+05:30

my 'clairvoyance' informs me that the world is fast turning into a homogenised body.
i scowl inwardly and make calculations to dismantle the software i have installed lately.
this "i-know-what-the-future-holds" software [clairvoyance] is evidently driving me ballistic.
this is what it told me last night:
clair: the whole world is too caught up in building malls and multiplexes.they dont realise what they are coming to.its a case of the triplets' lost identity.they look unidentifiably alike and in the process of resembling each other have forgotten who they really are.each one thinks he is harry and clearly there is no telling who they actually are.
me:whaddafuck are you talking about?and what is this homogenisation shit?
clair:i am telling you.in a decade or two the whole world will look so alike that it will be hard to tell them apart.
clair:i mean,given the infrastructure and all will be pretty much the same,Kolkata wont be any different from Kuala Lampur.
me:you know you could probably be hanged for talking such baloney.i mean,do you even know how Kolkata is like.and that it is impossible for 'some things' to change?Kolkata and Kuala Lampur,indeed!(snort..chuckle..snort)
clair:all i am telling you is that things will be so dreadfully metamorphosed even a few years later,that it will be hard telling what is what.technology is an exhaustive phenomena.it doesnt stop at a mall or flyover construction alone.its a chain reaction and would only stop when there is nothing else left to make/build.its like a conflagaration that scalds everything to ashes so that each can be built anew.and your city,like the rest of the world is being razed,heaped into debris and new structures are relentlessly attempting to fit into newer moulds,nonchalantly kicking aside the calciferous skeletons aligning the roadway.
thus factories are ruthlessly torn down,workers mercilessly evicted and soon after the grime had been gently swept under the carpet,with the effortless 'swish' of bulldozers,a swanky spectacle adorns the sprawling premise, obliterating all traces of an erstwhile soot emitting,dark and dingy sweatshop.
roads are widened to allow more car space,regularly encroaching pavement dwellers and pedestrains alike.and flyovers towering over the cityscape create distressing bottlenecks prodding unending constructions of more such flyovers,pretty much in parlance with the age old logic of the crisis of a war being solved by another war and suchlike!
me:(raised eyebrow,eyes reflecting concern)but isnt there any way one could stunt the process,if not clog it completely?
clair:i fear there isnt much we can do.the conflagaration has begun.
unfurl your hands.the city you so tried to cling to,has turned to ashes.
tsk.tsk.
me:...

boi mela

2008-01-31T20:24:00.000+05:30

i am evidently distraught and utterly crestfallen.For,being the person that i am,who prefers calling the glass half full rather than half empty,the book fair issue has come as a huge setback.surely this wasnt remotely one of my premonitions.i had had nightmares about the filmfestival being called off(well,it did reach a point when it really could.So...).I was even suspecting that the fair being held in park circus might churn newer controversies from varied quarters and get reaccomodated in Salt lake again.the fact that some KOLKATA BOOK FAIR might be held in a place that isnt really 'Kolkata' had got me mindboggled last year,but then i digress.
i frankly dont have any bones to pick with the environmentalists.they are after all doing their job,but i often wonder in solitude what they had been doing all these 30 years when the fair happenned in maidan with so much gusto.but what appalls me is the sheer indifference of the guild authorities.they seem to have forgotten that there exist some small publishers,people who diligently save every paisa throughout the year to publish little magazines, pamphlets,fliers and notebooks of suchkind so that they could sell them in the book fair with little or no profit.
people who care enough to ask you your name,where you have come from,offer you a seat so that you could rest a while before going stall hopping again.some would even shove a small magazine into your jhola and on being told that you dont have enough to pay him,would squeeze your hand and whisper "ami dilam.eta poro,bhalo lagbe".
This is what my boi mela is all about.
It feels nice watching people who have come all the way from distant provinces to buy books that they know wouldn't be available in their hometowns.some come simply to eat.some get their potraits made.and some bask in the sun,frolick and make merry as if they are on a picnic. and all this,while Protul Mukhopadhyay's "ami banglay gaan gai" reverberates the premise.
i remember times when i had gone simply to soak up the ambience and eventually bumped into old acquaintances who i knew i would meet again next year while browsing books or going stall hunting.
there were men who painted their faces,wore stilts and walked across the fair egging potential buyers to procure their publishings.i had always been enchanted by such men and when little had even tugged at baba's shirt so that he would slow down a little and let me devour the "tall man''s stunts,eyes agape.it pains me to think some tinylittle thing will be deprived of such fantasies this winter.that the "tall men" wouldn't be painting their faces for the mela this year.that the man in that makeshift Little Magazine counter wouldn't be shoving magazines down someone's jhola.that there would be no kid pulling at his father's panjabi so that he be taken to the shop of his fancy.
no regular visits to any swanky bookshop could possibly make up for the void that the non occurance of the boi mela creates. its a gamut of motley experiences that nothing else could conjure.nothing.
boi mela chai.boi mela hok.

2008-01-24T23:12:00.000+05:30

i knew i had finally found a director whose work i liked and could relate to when i watched "And life goes on"during this film festival in Kolkata.it was lucidity i was on the look out for and clearly ALGO fit my bill with startling precision.

watching "Taste of cherry" today only helped me confirm my convictions pertaining to Kiarostami and his work.for a man whose work largely throws light on the mundane existence of the Iranian people set across an arid landscape,its intriguing how Kiarostami manages to celebrate everyday living with such impeccable style and finesse.

i had noted it then and i noted it today too how Kiarostami effortlessly weaves a story around nondescript entities and shows how something as commonplace as a drive along the terrains of a dry desert can become so captutring and gripping so much that there comes a time when you start thinking as though you have been sucked into a process,although involuntarily,that now has become too engrossing to let go.

the camera mostly shoots from inside the car,positioned either beside the protagonist(the driver) or behind him.but occassionally when the drive across dry vegetation and mounds of dust becomes monotonous to the point of evoking acute claustrophobia,the camera pans on the broader panorama of Iranian topography.

Kiarostami evidently is unconventional in his making.but appreciably he doesnt do it on the face, or blatantly,so to speak.the subtlety conveniently seeps within and only surfaces when you are contemplating the film in solitude.

for me that is where his charm lies.its comparitively simpler to engage viewers' attention when the plot is sufficiently gnarled.the challenge possibly lies in elevating a simple storyline to the rank of some of the greatest films.

that's what Abbas Kiarostami does with such panache.

that's what sets 'The Man' a class apart.

for want of better things to do,or the lack of it

2008-01-16T21:49:00.000+05:30

This,my friends,is what I do in class.err,mostly.

wind in my hair...

2007-12-31T21:58:00.000+05:30

another bus ride across town.there were too many gawdily dressed women on the streets today.i didnt go to park sreet for,frankly,i didnt wish to be groped.
besides excessive light and psychedelia nowadays depresses the hell out of me.
park street reeks of jing bang and such like.
and i hate when those barely clad little beggars come asking for money.they have taken to selling gums these days.albeit,none buys them.but they go selling them,still.
somebody ought to give them a reward for such hopefulness.
if there is something i really lack,its hope.
i remember i had once told S that its faith that keeps us going through life.
i fear i dont have enough faith these days.

on a different note,did you know there are people who play chess on the railings underneath the gariahat flyover?its the most amusing thing i have noticed offlate.

have a happy new year all of you!

2007-12-27T22:53:00.000+05:30

i hate mindnumbingness.it hovers around the nape of your neck for sometime before it infiltrates your head and numbs everything.
i hate being torn between indifference and overt concern.
i hate being shocked and appalled over an issue and then revert back to listening music the next minute.
i find it all too hypocritical.
it pains me to realise i am floating in a world i dont otherwise conform to.

P.S:-to benazir,
i hope your soul rests in peace.

2007-12-23T22:24:00.000+05:30

meet me sometime and i will tell you about the excruciating pleasure of being guilty.
coax me a little more and i might even divulge one or two things about how the sun kissed the saffron sky and night fell precariously on the wet ground.
i could even tell you few things about chorai and shalik and how they nonchalantly frisked about my backyard this afternoon unperturbed by the crow's harsh cawings.
but maybe,i would let that pass.
i wouldn't want chorai-shalik to grow up hating me because i told on them.

2007-12-19T22:00:00.000+05:30

winter is a rather strange season.its as if it yanks the memories by their ear and pulls them out from the dusty crevices they had tucked themselves in,all along.
there are so many of them triggering at me right now,that i fear if i try writing them all down,they would yield incoherence.
maybe i would post them when my expression doesnt fail me.
right now,listen to this.
sometimes melancholy can sound so heartrending.
like here...
http://youtube.com/watch?v=cH8lXbCFTCc

of winter nights and city lights...

2007-12-16T20:47:00.000+05:30

this winter is all about winding bus rides and random walks across the city.
walking aimlessly about the city through unknown lanes and bylanes past quaint shops,roadside joints,small eateries can be very engrossing.
the last few days have seen me travelling through the same old alleys,browsing through the same old books/magazines/hoardings/posters/records.Yet,everytime the experience has left me richer than before.
I had been getting nagging thoughts about school,lately.so when i finally dropped in at elgin road on friday afternoon,my premonitions got answered.the building still stands tall but things around it have changed drastically and how!the pavements look despicable what with the peddlers having set up small eateries,std booths,paan shops on either side.there was something oddly nostalgic about the red uniformed little girls storming out of the gates,though!
the normal din hovered casually along the Academy premises.but what caught my eye was a little kid sitting on his haunches at the farthest corner smiling sheepishly at me with his grimy and soiled face.And when i tried approaching him,he jumped up and ran away clumsily,all the time looking at me through the corner of his eye.
the cathedral(St.Paul's)wore a festive look,already.the manger and the magis were mostly in place.a little away,a makeshift stage had been erected and kids pranced merrily to a rather warped version of jingle bells with added gusto.contrarily,the inside rendered a calming,benign ambience with an old lady practising hymns on the piano.the music flowed freely and effortlessly through her fingers and for a while it seemed as if it had imbued life into the mute walls and pillars.
outside,the air had grown thick and cold as it hung heavily all around.
the walk along parkstreet mostly comprised occasional halts before bookstores,galleries,hoardings while hundreds of nameless,faceless individuals scurried alongside as if tied by an invisible string of camaraderie.and two tiny travellers infront of me clung onto their father's shoulders devouring the fanfare,lights and glitz with unabashed hunger.
leaving the flashyness and psychedelia behind,i plunged into an otherwise uneventful corner.a few minutes' brisk walking and i had been transported into a different world altogether.the night air reeked of old motheaten books and timeless records.gaily festooned quaint little shops with equally eager pairs of eyes peering at me confirmed i had reached free school street.remininscences of a kashmiri shawlwallah with big,doleful eyes selling muslin shawls with so much vigour and enthusiasm although he knew i couldnt buy any,still keeps harking back.and then there were muslim boys,clad in lungi and surma rimmed eyes who sold christmas goodies in stalls.cheap incongruous hindi music flowed out of obscure bars and sometimes,unsteady men flanked by equally unsteady,flamboyant women in gawdy jewellery would come out of them,all wobbly from intoxication,cursing abuses and swearing at humanity in general...

the past few days has been pretty much full of this and much more.there were so many faces smiled at.so many shoulders brushed past,so many faces gaped at...
and every moment gifted me with an overwhelming sense of belonging,of being held together as one whole and each time it reminded me of my miniscule yet integral existence in this throbbing megapolis.

Amolkanti ar roddur

2007-12-05T18:50:00.000+05:30

way back in school I had once recited a poem where a certain Amolkanti wanted to be roddur.the feeling fascinated me so much that i couldnt get over it for long.even now,after so many years i remember those few lines although the actual event has escaped my memory.I remember how i would ask maa if she knew Amol and whether I stood a chance to be like him.Sometimes,I would even stay up all night contemplating Amol's fate till the morning breeze lulled me to sleep.And although life then didn't have a dearth of distractions,uncannily,Amolkanti and his roddur stayed on.He would come visiting me in lazy afternoons when the sunshine strained through palm leaves to conjure pretty motifs on the mosaic.I would lie sprawled on the baranda talking immaculately about all that captured my fancy while Amol listened on.He was a good listener.He would hear me out patiently,never flinching for a moment and when time came he tucked roddur inside his backpack and off he would go,drowning my baranda in plunging darkness.

Some months later,Amol suddenly stopped visiting.Roddur still came to my baranda but somehow it didn't feel same.Maa said he probably got tired of my stories.My rendezvous with Amol thus ended abruptly.The stories would well up inside me for now,there was none to tell them to.I never again chanced upon another listener who would match Amol's standard.

And suddenly today I'm missing my friend all over again.I still don't know how Amol became roddur.Or,if he at all did.

I wish I could become roddur someday...

peekchaar

2007-12-04T21:22:00.000+05:30

baba.

in da club

2007-12-03T12:56:00.000+05:30

check this one out
http://http://youtube.com/watch?v=3Ki04RocqHE

and you thought being bangali is all about rabindrasangeet and machher jhol.

2007-11-30T12:03:00.000+05:30

this one emanates from sheer desperation.
not angst.this is too delicate to be wrathed upon.
angst doesnt happen when you have your back completely against the wall.
like now.
feeling very succumbing and giving-up-on-everything~ish.
like a battle lost,a day wasted.
and the entire pallette of things to have triggered this-uncountable...
and to find your voice so feeble and drowned in a cacophony of furore can feel so defeating.

even the end of the tunnel seems so bleak.

"And life goes on..."

2007-11-18T11:49:00.000+05:30

i have seen my system goes miserably awry if a particular routine is suddeenly put to a halt.
it is awry right now.very unkempt and largely unoriented.
life for the past one week had been rather hectic and how!
getting up at half past six in the morning and still getting late for the morning show had been a custom.breakfast still in mouth,groggy faced running after the rickshaw will be much missed.
and yes!god bless the metro.for impunctual souls like yours truly,the machine is one godsent tin can!for someone to have caught the 9AM metro from tollygunje and yet to have sat pretty in the Rabindra Sadan auditorium at 9.15 is entirely incredulous,if you ask me.
but yes.thats what i did for the last few days.
for people who havent yet figured what i was upto,i am talking about the Calcutta Film Festival that happenned between the 10th and the 17th of this month.
lets just say,the "festival" didnt start on a very happy note what with 'buddhhijibis' and commoners all raising a great hue and cry over the bloody carnages at nandigram and "how on earth could they even think of organising a 'festival' at such time...?"
posters written impromptu and rallying and picketing happenned in front of Nandan.ironically people protesting against the government and demanding a withdrawal of the festival were mostly people who after being bailed out(yes,they were arrested)continued watching the films with the same gusto as us!
Oh and phones kept ringing throughout the film screenings.and sometimes people were audacious enough to even answer them informing the caller about his whereabouts..
"arreh!Nandane achhi.ha ha...flim dekhchhi..ha ha..flim festival cholchhe toh..ha ha..aro kotokhhon?(nudging the person next to him..achha dada kotokhhon cholbe?).."and so it went.ringtones and singtones of all kinds,interjected with occassional grunts and groans from fellow audiences.
and yes,two three major faux pas happenned.films got changed just like that without proper notice.this unprofessional stance of the festival authorities and this general tendency of belittling the audience infuriated me much.it was only after we had started watching a particular film taht we realised that its not what we had hoped to watch.
and i almost always had mashimas sitting next to me eloquently translating subtitles to thier corresponding colloquial.However,glares and vindictive guffaws did little to play down the tempo.
having said all that,i still dont have enough words to describe the sheer surge of emotion watching the films back to back,the sound of an alien dialect against your ear,the psychedelic play of colours before your eyes and a gamut of ideas wreaking havoc within you.its an ineffable feeling!
inspite of the motley crowds of people swarming all around you,the ambience helps you create your own niche under the sun.and the films can totally estrange you from everything that you are abound by.
lots of people were met,long discussions conjured,dreams dreamt and fantasies woven together.
having constantly heard foreign languages for consecutive days-words that held no significance unless corresponded by subtitles scrolling below,the words came to form a crude melody,something i got so attuned to,that watching an english film with no subtitles proved so jarring i got lost in incoherence.

on the whole,the experience has left me in a daze,and i can realise breaking free will prove hard task.

pujo

2007-10-28T17:58:00.001+05:30

verbose is the moment.
there are times when i could pass off without really saying anything.nothing illustrative.often symbolic.euphemistic.suchlike.
times flip.and they do wonderful things to your mood too.
garrulous is the mood now.the talk has to happen.its been gagged for long.only the talk can yield respite.
so conversation flows.it gurgles like a happy brook.usual chit chats.the normal exchanges.hackneyed,but in practice still.
mostly 'for the sake of it'.nods.a forced smile.hands firmly shaken.
too many people near the window huddling for space.face powders and masquarade.

pujo seemed less forced in comparison.hardly any "have-to" and "must-dos" figured on the list.one did.but that too turned out to be pleasant.
in a way pujo was whimsical.strangely "very utopic" plan worked out pretty well.
dhonpota was more than what one would call surreal.very liberating and yes,overwhelming too!funny how images in your mind's eye seem more focussed and less grainy than the ones in the photo.the image has adhered.it comes back in momentary hallucinations and strikes me when least likely.
however maddox came as a major let downer.not that much was expected.the hype has gotten too much into their goddamn heads.the dhakis play for just about a few minutes.too many happy gay people clapping and making 'hoo-haa' howls kills even that.and the place reeks claustrophobia.starry eyed bejewelled flashy juniors from school,equally hideous eye candies in tow;a demented relative;still more happy shiny juniors from school, maddox robbed me off my nobomi thunder.
another pujo gone.and i wonder how many are left on me now...

2007-10-10T06:55:00.000+05:30

we used to have durga puja in our mamabari even a few years ago.
i was a kid then.celebrations started early.the drawing room would be vacated and all furnitures got stashed below the staircase.during those few days the staircase would become our makeshift playroom.and the cocacola cretes could easily be tucked beneath the cumbersome and greasy sofas.
the pandal would jut out into the pavement.the tables were all laid out there.
and 'Maa' would come on chaturthi.riding the lorry was then the biggest proof of how 'brave and strong' you were.once home,Maa's face would be covered by a hankerchief followed by great disputes over the ownership of the cloth once it would be unfurled.i was too small and thus never considered.
panchami was non descript and i would mostly stay flopped on the couch in the staircase voraciously gorging on the contents of the sharodia.
the footfall happenned shashthi onwards and would go on till dashami.
there were relatives you chanced upon only on those four days of the year.there were others whom you had never seen but who squeezed your cheeks and patted and ruffled your hair,all the same.and there were still others who you had,allegedly,seen before but couldnt recall even if you tried real hard.and all of them came everyday and the familiarity grew.uncannily these were people you could go and confide in if ma had been very harsh on you.but the sulking and weeping happenned alone,in the staircase.
kumari pujo and sandhi pujo intrigued me much.
the latter would mostly happen in the dead of the night or in the wee hours of the morning.there were cousins who would go and snooze off in the loo.and even heavy banging on the door couldnt perturb them!
the kumari was draped in a benarasi.gold jewellery and alta would complete her look.and chhotomamu carried her in his arms and took her inside.
clearly the kumari would demand all attention and that pissed me greatly.
i had envied her so much i craved to be a kumari myself but was told i couldn't as "i wasnt a brahmin",something i havent figured out till this day.
asthami and nabami bhog comprised the best of bangali cuisines.that was probably why so many people came on those two days.
dashami had an eternal melancholy attached to it.it still does.i would wake up with a bad feeling that lingered throughout the day.the pujo got over by morning.shidur khela happenned till late afternoon.and i would go about the entire affair cluthching onto ma's anchal and end up looking like a red babbon with vermillion smeared all over.
bhashan was what i looked forward to the most.the elder cousins would have their friends come over and they would all dance through the entire journey while i sat next to Ganesha as per ma's dictum.she probably feared a stampede in the lorry and me being her only progeny,didnt want to risk it!
babu ghat would always be mobbed.amidst the din and gyrations of the bhashan parties,'Maa' would be thrown into the river,already clattered with several such idols afloat.
and while the rest danced as if taken by a wild frenzy,i would listlessly gape at Maa's demure face.i cant tell what i saw in those two eyes but they seemed a lot different from the idol we had brought home.

rangamamu died in a major heart attack.it was totally unexpected and we didnt know how to react till very lately.but what probably struck everyone is that the man behind our pujo was no longer.
pujo stopped in 2002.five years since then pujo still happens in our lives.albeit a lot differently.cousins have moved to other cities,countries.
i tried making myself acquanited with para pujo.but the thing never sunk in and i moved on.i tried the college pujo last time.but guess that is not working out either.i am thinking of spending pujo outside kolkata this time.in places in the outskirts.mofussils.
i am trying hard.but the void will remain.i know.

2007-10-06T20:47:00.000+05:30

i am on a blogging spree.its become my pet strategy to put off work pressure.
its not funny when you have two goddamn projects and two tutorials lined up for the week.
however what IS funny is how,in such acute situations,i find recluse in the most bizarre things.sudoku then.blog now.
what has remained constant is my love for the radio.not your jing bang stations belting out himmesh reshammiya 24*7.i have remained a patron of AIR since forever i think.
the family pretends they dont know me.and they have every reason not to.
i would have acted the same way had i HAD TO board with 'me'.
ma is sweet.she prefers to hold her nose from the head backwards.i have lost count of the times she has cribbed about how nice and petit i was as a kid.
ma is damn sweet.she has tried a zilion times to drive home the point that i have turned out a demented freak.but everytime she cant get beyond the cribbing part.
baba is more candid.you can get from the way he watches me.its the same look a chaffeur gives to a flat tyre.
i am too much torn between trying to be normal and me all at the same time.
resolutions are a bad idea.and temptation is,err...too tempting.trying to stick to conventions is very stifling even if it means less awkward stares and widemouthed gaping.
on a different note,or maybe it aint that different from what i have been discussing if it can be considered a discussion at all,watching dogs mate has turned out to be a nice pastime.
its not exactly mating but a hell lot of foreplay,sniffing and barking around.
there is only one bitch(!!!) and some 7,8 horny,nymphomaniac dogs in the campus.
the bitch probably thinks she is the best thing that could have ever happenned to dog kind.and the dogs,as dogs are,cant get enough of her.what follows i leave to your imagination.but discerning 'the act' for sometime now,i cant suppress my intrigue.there must have been or is a Vatsayana among the dogs.
try watching dog-fucking the next time if you dont believe me.

2007-10-05T21:31:00.000+05:30

we are all out on a joyous ride in a rickety merry go round.
happy shiny people all up for a spin.
i am in it too.happy starry me perched atop a greasy red chair.
the spin doesnt last more than a few minutes.
but as long as it does,it takes me on a trip.everything blurs and the conscience sneeks out the backdoor.

slowly as the tin-spin creeks to a halt it comes rushing back.
its like the luggage being returned after the "trip" is over.
only here you dont have anyone to drag your 'luggage' for you.

times like this dont you wish you didnt go for the trip in the first place?
i do.but the tin-spin has got me addicted.
i am up for a spin again.
the only thing i fear,i wont be able to drag my luggage tonight.

2007-10-04T22:23:00.000+05:30

i feel like a vulnerable retard these days.
the facade has stopped working.
the smile faded long back.
now,only the nose cringes and the brows raise.
lips quiver occassionally.
but the howling and wailing always happen flopped on the bathroom floor.
thats my recluse.my haven.
i think every man should be entitled to a loo each.even if he didnt have any other accomodation.the loo would be his think pad,his office,his lounge and err... his loo too!
the shower is my rain maker.
rains,i have realised,bring out a new me.
the shower does close to that.
there is a freaking uncanniness in how the shower pacifies me.
the sobs get more controlled.and the tears taste less salty.
net effect:it sobers me down.

i have a mind block.nothing feels right.i cant write in proper sentences.
its as if they have broken down into disparate little phrases.

the retard has resurfaced.i see too much into people.read too much into simple lines.think out of the way.and bleed within.
masochism is a curse.
the bloody retard is a leech.it just refuses to pack bags and leave.

here comes the rain...

2007-09-24T15:43:00.000+05:30

i have reached a point where the rains dont seem morbid anymore.
nor the grey sky.
not the musty odour hanging loose in the night air,either.
it all seems very thats-how-it-should-be~ish
waking up everyday to the same drizzle pelting down the parapet.
waking up with a sore throat like someone's scratching a very sharp pencil against it.
the coffee had little sugar in it today.
and the rain stopped for some minutes before starting with a far greater gusto all over again.
locking oneself in the house for a few days flat isnt worth complaining.
make boats and sail them in the nearby pothole instead.
burn paper and breathe in the whiff of burnt incandescence.
hum.croon.
but dont sulk.
pls.
the rains are not sulk-inducing elements.
they are good things that keep workaholics like maa home on an otherwise very very busy monday morning.
dont go blaming the mayor.
he is a do gooder.
he helped flood the streets so that you enjoy an extended weekend.
God bless the mayor.
encore!

Mera Bharat Mahan

2007-08-27T20:49:00.000+05:30

patriotism is a strange thing.ask an indian.he will count days and tell you exactly when he feels "patriotic".it will vary anywhere between five and ten.
though,i suspect that many people might consider ogling at sania and her assets as major "patriotism"!
independence day seemed big this year.we apparently had completed 60 years of 'independence' and thus the jubilation.the honourable PM saab gave illustrious examples of how much progress the nation had made in all these years.while he indulged his eloquence,half the populace slaved away in call centres,banks,IT firms et al.it is mandatory to work on the independence day.the country needs your labour.and thus SLAVE YOU MUST!
it is sheer irony if you come to think of it.would-be johnsons and jessicas clad in kurta pajama/saree selling cheap labour,speaking chaste english so that you doubt if 'george mackenzie' is actually the same old ramachandra krishnamurthy hailing from the remote village in kerala.
patriotism sells.films with super-deshbhakti-mush hit the jackpot at box office.its the safest bet.it projects the new age india-the coming of time india.with her youth standing up against injustice.boy oh boy!if that is not a good plot,what is?
its incredible how we have come so far and yet somewhere it seems as if we never advanced.like as if india has been stuck in this time warp all this while.
the intelligentsia might ponder over debates as to whether the colonialists did us any good.
my point is,have we?
have we really progressed in all these 60 years?what we call economic boom or india shining for that matter is nothing but a repitition of colonialism .ofcourse this time 'they' coined a diplomatic term and called it globalisation.so super malls and multiplexes come flood the country,thereby driving the entire indegenous market out of business.its a brandised nation.this.but major illitearcy prevails.so does poverty.while a meagre 10% feeds on big mac burgers and fried chickens,lakhs go unfed for days.
india still boasts of such malpractises as dowry.and sati continues in some nooks and crannies of Rajasthan,U.P and the like.
you tell me stories about women's empowerment.about girls working and standing on "their own feet".and i will tell you stories of rape,female infanticide,child abuse,eve teasing and casting couches.
the girl next door might work in a big-weeg multinational company but coax her and she will relate how she had to walk/sing/dance/undo her hair/skin before her would be in-laws finalised the marriage.
the science teacher in your college might propound a hell lot of scientific bullshit and yet you will find him wearing that shiny silver amulet around the arm.
a country which proclaims herself "secular" and yet is most vulnerable in matters related to religion.while a pious muslim prays five times a day and indulges in violence all in the name of the holy koran,hindu ladies line up infront of the mandir on shivaratri to worship what is nothing short of a phallus!
a fanatic nation caught up between cricket and bollywood,the country unanimously mourns the conviction of munnabhai as also rejoices the triumph against england.
a country that remains immersed in flood half the year and threatened by the evil forces of terrorism the other.
a country where politicians crossvote,conspire,corrupt and exploit their posts all in the name of the 'janta'.

i came across an article where the author voiced genuine concern regarding indian state of affairs.
"if we are to believe India achieves 60 years of independence this year",the author quipped,"should we assume that the country will retire soon?"

worth a thought.eh,gentlemen?

2007-08-16T10:30:00.000+05:30

came across a tag in inihos' blog.i am not a 'tag person'.but this one seemed different.here's what i feel:-

If I were a beginning, I would be: the beginning of life
If I were a month, I would be: august
If I were a day of the week, I would be: saturday
If I were a time of day, I would be: dawn
If I were a planet, I would be: Earth
If I were a season, I would be: Fall
If I were a sea animal, I would be: a sea horse
If I were a direction, I would be: east
If I were a piece of furniture, I would be: a book shelf
If I were a sin,I would be: a white lie
If I were a liquid, I would be: rain
If I were a fraud/scare, I would be: a catastrophe
If I were a gem, I would be: a diamond
If I were a tree, I would be: a gulmohar
If I were a tool, I would be a: chisel
If I were a flower/plant, I would be: a wild strawberry bush
If I were a kind of weather, I would be: a breezy evening
If I were a musical instrument, I would be: a harmonica
If I were an animal, I would be: a squirrel
If I were an emotion, I would be: affection
If I were a vegetable, I would be: a ginger
If I were a sound, I would be : the tinkle of a bell
If I were an element, I would be: air
If I were a car, I would be: a jeep
If I were a song, I would be: leaving on a jet plane
If I were a food, I would be: a bread
If I were a place, I would be: Kolkata
If I were a material, I would be: hand made paper
If I were a taste, I would be: the taste of home made cuisines
If I were a scent,I would be: the smell of wet earth
If I were a religion, I would be: zoroastrian
If I were a sentence, I would be: incoherent
If I were a body part, I would be: the eyes
If I were a facial expression, I would be: a raised eyebrow
If I were a subject in college, I would be: culture
If I were a shape, I would be: a star
If I were a quantity, I would be: infinite
If I were a color, I would be: beige
If I were a thing, I would be: a wish
If I were a landmass, I would be: a faraway county
If I were a book, I would be: The Little Prince
If I were a monument, I would be: Sahid Minar
If I were an artist, I would be: Sukumar Ray
If I were a collection of poems, I would be: The Heights of Machupichu
If I were a landscape, I would be : the valley
If I were a watch, I would be: timeless
If I were God, I would be: forgiving
If I were a vowel, I would be: A
If I were a consonant, I would be: R
If I were a formula, I would be: irrefutable
If I were a Science, I would be: chemistry
If I were a theory, I would be: Idealism
If I were a famous person, I would be: Nelson Mandela
If I were an electronic equipment, I would be: a radio
If I were sport, I would be: snorkelling
If I were a movie, I would be: Fahrenheit 451
If I were a cartoon, I would be: hobbes
If I were an explorer,I would be: Vasco da gama
If I were a scientist, I would be: Stephen Hawking
If I were a relation, I would be: a friend
If I were a river, I would be: Seine
If I were intoxication,I would be: laughter
If I were alone, I would be: contemplating
If I were a question, then I would be: how
If I were a hobby,I would be: writing
If I were a habit, I would be: charity
If I were an atom, I would be: miniscule
If I were an end, I would be: unhappiness
If I were you, I would be: continuing this tag

sepia memories and absconding images...

2007-07-07T08:57:00.000+05:30

the wall looked more dogged than yellow.years of rough weathering and corrosion had taken its toll and the structure bore a graphic testimony to the inclement times.the paint was peeling at some places.at others,cracks had devoloped and a trail of ants entered and exited them with impeccable synchronisation.
set against such deplorable background,the red spiral staircase offered a stark contrast.though the color had chipped occassionally, around the handrail,the stairway looked very bright amidst the peeling yellow wall and the daily din and bustle of the road overlooking it.
she did not live there.yet,te helixical stairway fascinated her much so that she kept coming back just to stare at it.once,she had even run her fingers along it but given the humdrum and activities on the road, never could muster enough courage to climb the steps.
she thought of it now.there was something in those stairs that intrigued her to no end.maybe the fact that she always wanted to know where it led.she knew that once she climbed it,the fantasy would be lost forever.and thus till this day,she nurtured her imagintaion simply gaping at it.it had been years since she first saw it and still the mystic red flight had a charming aura about it that captured her and took her to dizzy height everytime she pondered on it.
no one lived in that house.it stood there like an abandoned child.uncared.crumbling.and yet it clung to its uncanny familiarity.the wall had crumbled in a few places.naked brick showed through the dirty yellow parches.the cracks had widened with time.the red staircase had worn too.the paint had fallen in flakes and the rickety steps looked rustier than before.green creepers had adorned the rails and inspite of its wretched condition,in her eyes the spiral stairs still looked captivating.

the road was busier today.a motley crowd had thronged near the wall.and a deafening roar of machines and human voices rent the air.she squirmed through two burly men who stood there busy giving orders to the minions.
what she saw didnot astonish her much.the neighbourhood had been contemplating this for a long time now.the wall had been brought down and damp bricks and debris sat in mounds near their feet.the staircase still stood proud amidst the dusty rubble.
'so the staircase wouldnt be dismantled after all',she reasoned.
just then Burly gave sharp orders to one of the minions.his finger struck out pointedly at something.her eyes followed suit.a gleaming yellow bulldozer stood at a distance as if warming up before it pounced on its victim!
a nagging nostalgia wrenched her heart now.she just wanted to climb it once before it succumbed to the blows of the bulldozer and became a despicable mangle of iron.
convincing Burly hadnt been easy.Burly had been particularly irked by her repeated pleadings.surely,he couldnt make out what the big deal was.'they' never do.
the stairs were rickety and climbing them would only mean welcoming danger,Burly had grunted.but she pleaded on.
finally he had consented.the crowd had thickened.the whole place buzzed in delirium.
she took a deep breath before she started climbing 'it'.her limbs wobbled in excitement.the whole while she climbed,the crowd cheered on,but she heard or saw nothing.taking a step at a time,she ascended the steps quitely,her whole being shaking in trepidation.
she didnt know where it went.and you could see she wasnt prepared enough to come face to face with the reality.all the fantasies that she had woven around these stairs for so long could end in utter delusion.and she fretted she wouldnt be able to reckon with it.her random flights to neverland,her indulgent reveries and surreal trips were to end today and she hopelessly clung onto them.once she had reached the top,she stood there for a moment,closed her eyes and ran her fingers along the rail one last time and then descended with the same poise and dignity as before.

her fantasies behind her,she mingled with the frenzied mob and retracing her steps, walked away into oblivion...

of myriad hues and roadside blues...

2007-07-02T10:30:00.000+05:30

she bit her lip and grimaced.the sudoku was taking longer time than usual to crack today.the road took a sharp bend prodding another bout of nausea to creep up her throat.it had been happenning since morning.ever since the car reached Haldwani.the bends and hair-pin turns had made her feel pukish,time after time.
she had tried finding comfort in the lush greenery outside-the pine,fern and deodar trees.in the cacophony of the twittering birds.in the derelict huts and cottages propped up against the hill.but nothing helped.another hair-pin curve and yet another bout of nausea came rushing back.
besides,it started drizzling halfway through the journey so that she had to shut the window.not because of the rain so much,but more because she couldn't endure the smell of wet earth.
the car combed through the hilly driveway.a truck came tearing from the otherside,honked twice and swerved past their car by dint of deft manoeuvring.
another stretch of insipid drive followed.
suddenly,darkness fell in the hillside.the pines and deodar silhouettes stood like soldiers on either side.the yellow headlight from the car investigated the road and apart from the occassional honking at every turn,silence hung in the dense night air.
she didnt even realise when the misty and smoky night fall had lulled her to sleep but when she woke up the sky was blushing a rosy pink and the red sun rose amidst the green hills.
there was about a mile of journey left.the bends turned steeper but somehow the sunny ambience could do nothing to perturb her spirits.when the journey ended they had reached the top of the hill.she got down form the car.inhaled a whiff of fresh air,closed her eyes and stretched out her arms as if embracing the valley that lay beneath her-thousands of miles below.
she then went back into the car,delicately plucked the deodar sapling from the seat unfurled the paper that held it and squatting on her haunches planted it in the wet earth.and after watering it with utmost dedications she got up,inspected it and retreated into the car without turning back once.
the engine gave a warm groan and started again.this time going downhill.
the same environ the same cacophony of twittering birds,the same pine ferns standing like alert soldiers...
the gusty morning breeze dishevelled her hair.and when she brushed them from her face,a weak smile adhered the corner of her lips.
her work done,she draped the shawl across her bosom and went off to sleep.

and up there on top of the hill
rukmini(thats what she had named teh sapling) swayed and glistened as the mellow sunlight bathed it in honey rays...

paper boats...

2007-06-23T13:16:00.000+05:30

if you looked closely enough, you could see her coming through the curtain of rain...
barring her yellow umbrella,the day presented a drab picture...the murky sky,the rain washed streets,a few plastics clogging the sewarage and two soggy paper boats sailing blissfully in the nearest pothole.
it had been raining since morning and looking at the sky,you could tell that it would go on all day.

she was at arm's length now.unkempt hair,trousers drawn uptill the knee,barefeet, she looked a bit worn out.the blue liner had smudged near the eyes but they exuded the same warmth as the last time we had met.
"fancy meeting on sucha rainsloshed day,huh?"she quipped.
"i see you havent any shoes on"i observed.
"ya,they are in the bag...fancied wetting my feet"
so 'fancy' was The Word now.last time we had met it had been 'flabbergasted'
it was fun hearing flabbergasted in every two seconds...
"...and i was so flabbergasted seeing that...and then that flabbergasted feling you know...you know what i mean,nah?"
and so it went the whole afternoon.

"sheesh man!"she was limping on one leg now..
"something bit me near my heel"she had already thrown a ruchus by then...
"relax.."i assured,"there arent any whales in here"
"how do u know?"
the liner had started trickling down her cheeks...it traced a blue outline all the way across her cheekbone...
it was raining hard now...
the yellow umbrella unfurled again...
"you said you would teach me how to make boats"
"you dont know how to make them?"
"what's the big deal?i'll learn today"i shrugged,a mild wave of indifference gaining on me..
she was cackling now..."you dunno how to make boats..fancy not being able to make boats..."she chanted in a sing song voice,enough to drive any sane individual up the wall.

an hour later, the rain had been pelting down hard against the tin roof..we were sitting legs dangling on a certain somebody's verandah...and a thousand paper boat lay strewn all over the floor...

and when the rain stopped,she waded through the water,barefeet,just as she had come, till the gathering darkness completely faded her away.

and the boats floated bithely in the potholes all night before another thunderstorm swept them away...

Of insomniac afternoons and indulgent reveries...

2007-06-07T12:20:00.000+05:30

time halts and ideas play havoc in the mind.lying on the couch.feeling hot.sweaty.Maugham dangles precariously from hand.the fan drones noisily.the T.V is in mute.staring blankly at the screen.thoughts flood and apprehensions and premonitions adhere to the skeptic mind.sweaty beads on forehead.kajer mashi scurries past the backyard sulking noisily to herself about the work pressure.the chappal flaps on the hot cement.
tom smacks jerry on the head.tulsi cries.kumkum seeks vengeance.sidhhu roars with laughter at a not-so-funny joke.the screen flickers and vision blurs.
the couch feels unnaturally hot.the floor is cooler in comparison.the T.V is turned off.Maugham is returned to the shelf.the pillow is made even.hair hangs loose and spreads on the mosaic.staring blankly at the ceiling evokes hypnosis.the fan blades whip the warm claustrophobia.
and yet another afternoon whiles away in uneventful listlessness...

2007-05-23T12:33:00.000+05:30

it rained heavily that evening.and apart from a few rowdy boys playing football and howling occasionally,the ground resembled a desolate spectacle.
the incadescent neon light had cast an orange halo.and when the rain fell against it,it looked ethereal.
the rain fairy gazed at it listlessly-bemused,enchanted,intrigued...there was something in her eyes,you could tell.the rain fell steadily on her apple face.it trickled down her hair,brows,cheeks till it disappeared at the corner of her lips.
musty rain drops...
the ball thumped noisily on the flat concrete.the boys jostled and shrieked in unison.the goal got saved.cheers and whistles hung in midair.
the Rain fairy smiled and looked away.the 'thump' gradually dissolved in the background.
words spilled out like booze spurts out of a freshly uncorked bottle.conversation flowed.the night air felt intoxicating as it caressed the wet skin lovingly.the chilly wind flirtatiously hugged the moist frizzy hair.
the walking turned out to be hypnotic after a while.walking around in continuous circles can effectively evoke hypnosis!!!
and the hand she held felt unnaturally soft,warm and reassuring...
and when the rain stopped,the Rain fairy again returned to her recluse behind the clouds across the horizon where the sky was grey and the grass looked like a bed of crystals gleaming of musty rain drops...

2007-05-12T22:42:00.000+05:30

boredom has this innate quality of driving me up the wall.sheer boredom.just that and nothing else.
yawn.twitch.yawn.contemplate.scratch.drool.squint.hum.yawn.think.plan.yawn.rolleyes.mutter.hog.pee.talk.mumble.yawn.sleep.hogmore.
and so it goes.
for the last two days this is all i was up to.
and oh!i did go watch a play.and i watched "you've got mail" after a really long time.
the stupid media player is screwed.the computer tells me i have a fake software.like,that is something i didnt know already.i mean thats no surprise for me.considering the phoney crooks we have turned out to be,its hardly a wonder that our system is fake too
but tahts hardly the point i was going to make.see,this is the issue with me.i start off saying one thing and before you know it,i have started off with another.
on a different note,i wish it wouldnt be so hot althroughout the day.it can be particularly stifling to sit home all day just because its sweltering outside.not that i care much,but the people i stay with(read,parents)have serious issues with me going out in the daytime.
parents,i tell you,can be the most disconcerting creatures.*sigh*

2007-05-11T11:33:00.000+05:30

1. Pick out a scar you have, and explain how you got it:
on the wrist.some girl from school had dug her nails right in there.
2. What is on the walls in your room?
red and creme paint
3. What does your phone look like?
i dont have a phone(do a small jig before settling down)
4. What music do you listen to?
whatever sounds nice to the ears.
5. What is your current desktop picture?
baby with a big pout
6. What do you want more than anything right now?
i wanna get over with this stupid tag.
7. Do you believe in gay marriage?
sure.where is the harm?
8. What date and time were you born?
pakistan's indepence day.right at 2 in the afternoon .an india-pakistan match was on way!
9. Are your parents still together?
sigh.yes.beats me how!
10. What are you listening to?
"romeo and juliet"
12. The last person to make you cry?
my neighbour's dog.seriously what kind of an imbecile question is this?
13. What is your favourite perfume/cologne?
liked charlie.i am not much of a perfume person.i am happy with deos.
14. What kind of hair/eye colour do you like on the opposite sex?
black or hazel brown.but please oh please nothing other than that.weird hair colour freaks me out.
15. Do you like pain killers?
thankfully i never needed one.*touchwood*
16. Are you too shy to ask someone out?
i am not your coy girl next door,but i never have felt the need to ask anyone out.
17. Fave pizza topping?
i never can tell.others decide for me.
18. If you could eat anything right now, what would it be?
chocolate truffle.
19. Who was the last person you made mad?
i tend to make people mad very easily.it is this innate quality i have.every two out of three people get mad at me in every five minutes.go figure!
20. Is anyone in love with you?
nobody loves me.*sniff*sniff*

i tag little boxes and inihos.

2007-05-06T00:26:00.000+05:30

okay.so my mind is not exactly working right now.but i can tell i am suddenly missing school after,what,nearly two years?
and its weird.because i really didnt feel a thing after i left it.and except for that ineffable feeling that kind of wrenched within me a couple of times when i was walking past rabindra sadan,i practically lost the attachment with that grey building.or so i thought...
i was never into science or mathematics.who am i kidding,i sucked in maths.big time.the teachers loathed me.and the feeling wasnt unreciprocated.my secondary school life was therefore not exactly eventful.i was an average kid with average grades.
plus two,in that sense,was one helluva roller coaster ride.we were given the classroom in the farthest corner on the topmost floor.and i had some of the happiest days of my life in that classroom.it was probably the geographical positioning of the class,the fact that it was virtually cut off from the rest of the building that intrigued me the most.and i dont know why but uncannily i would keep saying "ekhane kono khun holeo keu jante parbena"
the P.G hospital dormitory was right next to us.and it would be an understatement if i said that the place was stinky.yet,god knows what she got in that stench,our english grammar teacher would listlessly gaze out of the window for all the days she taught us.
the room had a swing door(i am hoping it still has),and i remember precisely how we purposely banged it open everytime we were to pass through it.
and then one fine morning when we were having a free period and the adjacent science section was in the midst of a chemistry class,i started "bam bamming" my heart out until my vociferous "bam bamming" was silenced by the chemistry teacher who demanded the name of that person letting out that queer sound.as to why i suddenly had that overwhelming desire to mimick bambam (of flinstones'fame)on that auspicious morning,i never have been able to figure since.*sigh*
the girl who sat next to me(its weird how i referred to baijayanti as the-girl-who-sat-next-to-me,but then i have my reasons) was a nerd.she still is.it will shake the living daylights out of me if i ever realised that she is no longer one.she was one of those people who studied during lunch breaks,was dishevelled and forgetful in that nerd einstein-ish way.and if you studied her bag,you could have fished out a dry chowmein strand-she was that messy.
and then there was amrita,who most people referred to as 'oxy' after allegedly one girl called her "the oxygen of her life'(incase you are still wondering,yes,our school brought lesbianism to kolkata).anyway,oxy or amrita,whichever way you like it,was one major giggler.she was really happy and content with her life in general,i believe,because she just couldnt stop giggling especially when mrs. saha,our bengali teacher took our class.amrita would giggle away to glory which landed us into major trouble one too many times.but then,mrs. saha was worth laughing at,you'd argue.very true.a lady who married some good many times so much so that we lost count of her husbands after a while,she was definitely a phenomena.but even we kept our humour in check.poor amrita,she never could.and the more exasperated mrs. saha got,the more amrita smirked.and so it would go on till the bell rang and the teacher scurried away in fury.
then ofcourse you had suchi who brought chicken sandwiches to lunch.and i bet half the class was pally with her just to grab a bite from her sandwich!suchi and i fell in and out of love with a zillion people we had never talked to till she hooked up with that radio guy(!!!)and from what i have last heard,she and 'double-d' are still in
lurbh with each other.
there are a zillion other stories i could tell you.about how sanda was madly in love with eating,how our class teacher told us stories about her doctor and how handsome he is and about how the assistant headmistress once called us morons and how the class didnot say a word against it because they didnot know what it meant...but then that would be too long a story.

2007-05-02T22:42:00.001+05:30

its weird how i keep listening to one song over and over again whenever i am using the computer.it would keep playing itself and i would gradually get sucked into it...
there is nothing more exhilerating like getting lost in a musical warp.
right now its 'nightswimming' by REM.

2007-04-19T22:50:00.000+05:30

I was barely eight when baba started taking me out on trips to places in and around the city. In a few weeks time, it became a ritual. Come Saturday morning and the father daughter duo would set out on journeys that sent me to dizzy heights for the next few days till another Saturday came knocking…
By the time I was ten, I had been to a zillion places and had learnt about a zillion more.
Victoria.check.college street.check.town hall.check.potoldanga check. Marble palace.check.check.check.check…
I had ridden a pony near Victoria. head bobbing, pigtails swinging in utter ecstasy.
I went for plays,ma baba in tow. and being all of eleven twelve I understood little of what was being vociferously delivered on stage. I would even sink back into the seat when the actors were particularly outrageous and even incoherent by my limited-vocabulary-standards!
I had dolefully watched a naked potbellied child being mercilessly beaten by his mother near entally and had cried for days at an end till there was nothing left to mourn for.
And in the process of growing up, these images and a thousand more got firmly entrenched in my memory. Images that soon spread out to form an obscure collage of the city-images held by a meshwork of invisible strings that in due course gave me a notion of the city. My city. A city that gradually became a part of my growing existenceAn indispensable part of me- a part I was so passionately in love with. And still am….
And even though the Saturday sojourns have been long out of practice still feel those strings tugging me. Just as they did some thirteen years back.
The collage has slowly unfurled itself. It's not as obscure as it once was.
With time, the pigtails, the head bobbing, the starry eyes, the puerile prattle all became a thing of past.
The city, too, shed her inhibitions, pushed all the dust and grime underneath the carpet and underwent a stark metamorphosis. A flyover here. A shopping mall there. Some coffee shops and bookstores thrown in between. A this. A that.
tra la la la la..
Someone changed her name from Calcutta to kolkata.and a thousand more faltered with her pronunciation."Kol-koe-tah"."Kalkutta"."Kal kota". The confusion prevailed.
Someone claimed job charnock is not her founder. Someone else denied her birthday. Celebrities swarmed in from all over to cut albums, launch films, and inaugurate music stores. From business tycoons to actors. From politicians to cricketers. The glamour and the glitterati sashayed down lisping the magical words-"kolkata, ami tomay bhalobashi"in broken bangla sending the crowds into absolute frenzy.
"Dada" was chucked out of the 'blue'team. And the city went agog with rage.
"Didi" went on a hunger strike and the entire city went down with her.fretting.praying.fretting.eyes glued to the T.V screen watching her every move.
One fanatic girl got herself married to an abhishek bachchan poster.
Some other was married off to a dog owing to the dearth of an eligible groom.
The crowd oscillated with its random mood swings. Garlands today. Effigies tomorrow. The rage persisted unabated…
The Nobel Prize got stolen. Someone lifted the copyright on rabindrasangeet.poltu and jhontu committed virtual hara-kiri on "gram chhara oi ranga matir poth." in the name of bangla band. The elders shuddered in disapproval. tsk.tsk."Ajkalkar chhelemeyera…" tsk.tsk..
Multinationals infiltrated the local market.flury's replaced jolojog.dominos replaced das cabin.barista, coffee house. McDonalds and c3 ripped off the city's quintessential 'bangaliana'.
TV anchors dressed like BBC correspondents and poised uncomfortably before the camera.plastered smile.hair in place.accented bangla.perfect!
Flyovers conjured bottle necks, the roads inundated twice annually and the potbellied naked children on the roads of panchanantala played gilli danda,oblivious to the changing times.
It rained in winter and grew insanely hot by end of February. Elders shuddered at the prospect of being "victims of global warming".
Lifestyle changed many fold. Commonplace modhyobitto Bengali now holidayed in Goa, Singapore, Malaysia.
'Kaku-kakima' learnt the virtues of surfing the net and sent e-mails to 'babu' in America twice daily!
Uttam suchitra flicks got remade. Teens and tweens crooned to "ei poth jodi na shesh hoi."
Lovers sought recluse in theme parks.families,dadu dida in tow,splashed in aquatica to 'beat the heat'
The angel atop Victoria memorial swung one more time after a long lull only to be put to sleep again.
Maidan was saved finally! The bookfair moved to salt lake. Most sulked sentimentally. People read less and munched more. Someone bought a broom. Someone else got his portrait made.
Baroyari durgotsav got a new edge. One pujo committee had the idol carved out of recyclable stuff. Some one else made a pandal out of biscuits.
Trees were cut down. Ponds got dumped.multistories caressed the skyline. The city became an asphalt jungle.
But in the midst of all cacophony and delirium, the city held onto its intrinsic charm.
And even till this day, the city holds a special position in my heart. And every Saturday it tugs at my strings and beckons me to get lost in its ethereal wilderness…

2007-04-14T20:40:00.000+05:30

disillusion and despair has many faces.way more than you and i have discerned.
im just guessing how many!
the department i am in,comprises a swarm of people all abuzz with activities.
they dont yap.they dont while away time.they dont even squat on twos gazing listlessly at passers by,head resting on chin munching on a dhoper chop... for days at an end.
shudder!blasphemy.dear god.NO!!!
they study.and when they are not doing that,they discuss studies.or else if they are having one of those i-don-feel-like-studying-today days, they troop into the library and look up references.
ugh!!tear hair.yell.guffaw.tear more hair.grit teeth.ughhhhhh again!!!
and when they are doing neither of the above,they photocopy reading materials.
sheafs of pages.piles of books.plethora of notes/print outs/ downloads.
its a routine now.class ends.teacher exits.a motley crowd of pupils exit simultaneously.(how that is mathematically feasible,given the length and breadth of the door,size of each,is not point of concern right now)
the motley hurries down the stairs and troops into the library.
(imagine napoleons army,racking and plundering everything that catches their eye)
within minutes the motley has gone further down(puns intended!)
they are in the xerox centre now.books/papers/notes in tow-nudging jostling one another for space.a few more minutes and you see them returning.there! work done for the day.
this has been happenning for quite sometime.enough to drive an indifferent me up the wall.
i have had it.i cant take it anymore.
i wish all these narrow minded academia-centric prepostorous dextrous morons rot in hell!
ugh!

2007-03-30T21:12:00.000+05:30

mira nair had always remained a personal favourite.so when "namesake" hit theaters,i just had to drop in-if not for mira,for kal penn atleast!!!and i can tell you just as well,i am filled..i have had my share and might go back to watch it a second time with anybody willing to finance the entire trip(popcorns,soda,transport et al)
i donot intend to burst the bubble for all those who havent watched the movie yet.i wont, therefore,delve into details.but i can tell you this much.donot expect a word by word translation of the book on celluloid.you will be hugely let down if you do.besides,deciphering a fat novel within a two hour slot can be a humongous task considering the sentiments mira had to cling on to.and if you are cringing your nose hearing irrfan khan and tabu do (in)justice to bangla,let me just tell you,they do a better job than shahrukh and aishwarya-anyday.
mira has been extremely subtle and implicit in dealing with the sensitivity of the theme.she captures the quintessential bangali sentiments of characters abroad and back home with adequate elaan.gogol's transformation from being the american born confused desi to the son who is trying hard to connect with the innate sentiments of his dead father,has been gradual.but it jars you nonetheless!
the actors donot need exclusive appraisal.they all capture you in their own little ways.
not really the movie you forget on your way back home.

2007-03-16T21:24:00.000+05:30

"sudin ashbe bole ora agun jalay/ar hajar hajar manush morey jay..."

i am appalled by the state of affairs.i wish it was all a ghastly nightmare that never came true...

2007-03-06T22:32:00.000+05:30

okay.i was asked NOT to post this blog(read,persistently forbidden).
but ive never been the goody goody girl who listens to people and resists the overwhelming urge to bitch.
lets face it.im typical.and bitch i will!!!
James performed at O.A.T today.there was an amazing footfall and you could see "dudes" sporting bandanas and 'iron maiden' tshirts flanked by bimbettes wearing excessive make up and a lot of other stuff im sure i know nothing about.
but thats hardly my point here.apparently the whole fanfare and frenzy would give anybody an idea about how 'beeg' this whole event was.being essentially curious we decided to check it out.having heard "na jaane koi,kaisi hain ye zindagani.." before,I,personally had a grudge against this guy.but i decided to go nonetheless.
and although the crowd swayed,cheered,hooted and smoked up in turns,the performance left me appalled!
i mean,that was one of the shittiest performances ive watched till date barring inferno's(who,allegedly, paid to get onstage and was literally dragged down later!) and that goes to say volumes about the aura that has been woven all around this phenomena called "James".
and though i do admit,i am a layman when it comes to music i still demand that the stuff i heard was crass.the lyrics was weird and in some places insanely funny not to mention that i was rolling my eyes through the major portion of the concert.
but what was spectacular was the audience reaction.the crowd loved it and they made it evident in more ways than one.
im not one who jumps to conclusions but im telling you this,the kolkatans have heard better stuff than this.the reason why i call the whole thingie appalling is precisely because of this.if the crowd really knows its music and is indeed spoilt for choice(which they are-there are a good many bands lurking here and there and they are way better than this.i swear!)then why the jaw dropping footfall?
the fact that James suddenly made it big after that one song in a hit-shit
bolly flick,isnt all that you need to judge his potential.
my friends,who also happen to be veterans in music and seriously 'know their stuff' asked me to study his stage presence and singing prowess which,if you ask me,hugely comprised a lot of unnecessary head banging and brow raising gyrations.
but then,thats what is "kewl these days' and the crowd predictably followed suit.

im convinced that i might as well be sued if this blog ends up in the hands of serious James fanatics.but well,ive always called spade a spade and this blog wasnt intended to hurt anybodys feelings or impose any of my ideas onto any one of you.

2007-03-04T20:53:00.000+05:30

shit happens.
and no one knows that more than me.not exactly in the mood for divulging details,but just that.still insanely freaked and flabbergasted with whatever happenned.VERY!

and i still cant fathom why on earth she was wearing that heavily embellished tiny skirt with that black ornate top.i bet that's one of her brother's atrocious creations.
pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!

and dada knows Orpheus!!!i mean why????why on earth ORPHEUS???
i knew the world's a small place but had no idea how miniscule it is!i think i know now!or maybe i am in for a bigger surprise.
way things are heading, i wont be dropping my jaw if someone tells me that i'm related to Oprah Winfrey.or Lalu Prasad,or that matter.
you cant faze me anymore.ive pulled up my socks.bring it on!

2007-03-04T16:42:00.000+05:30

i love the Ben and Jerry's store.
they make the most lip smacking and creamy choco mousse ever.
i will have another one today.

2007-03-02T21:29:00.000+05:30

got hold of this amazing book in the fair.
its called "Branded" and its by a 30 something Alissa Quart.im reading it right now and ive just got one word for it.incredulous.nothing more nothing less.ive barely read through it,but i can tell its going to be intriguing as i unravel it.and trust me, my instincts do not go wrong.this is hot stuff indeed.
not exactly your fiction paper back.this one is about how the evils of consumerism are manipulating the mindset of the whole generation-Y,brainwashing them into buying branded stuff("this is what you need to build the right kinda attitude"...poooh!)and making sure they suck up to that one brand and swear by it.
its intriguing,man.and as the story unfolds you realise how you too must have fallen prey to this and chances are that we still are.
the book is divided into sub sections and also throws light on those kids and tweens who having realised the havoc this consumerism is wreaking has shunned from succumbing to any kind of brand affinity.and have started an unbranding movement whereby they're trying to encourage more youngsters to refrain from this branding.
and its funny,you know.because ive seen people go gaga over a brand and shell out a couple of thousands just to get into that pair of sneakers or denims for that matter.and ive seen them go ballistic when they dont get what they are looking for.heck1ive probably done it myself.who am i kidding!!!and its funnier precisely because you get to identify yourselves and also your fellow mates.it seems as though Quart was writing about you.and that can be freakish.
and when the realisation does sink in,i guess a lot of things are going to change around us.

2007-02-11T19:49:00.000+05:30

went to a party today.birthday get together of an old friend from my voices days...very good friend i never thought id remain friends with post-voices.fortunately i did or rather we did and today, there i was sitting pretty at her jadabpur residence.nice cosy home with lots of windows and very nice pastel drapes that had little floral stuff done on them.
call it my pet passion,but i always had something for airy little rooms that have a lot of windows and let in a lot of sunrays.ironically,i ended up being allotted the coldest darkest gloomiest room in our little flat.and ive been stuck there for half a decade now.i tried painting the walls in bright shades of brick and yellow ochre,but they didnt help much.
my room is nice otherwise.its quite big compared to all the rooms i had ever imagined living in.and it has kind of happily accomodated all the stuff mum and dad couldn't fit into the other two rooms.and the brick and ochre paint look damn nice at night with the lights on and all...but i still hold it against the sun for ignoring my room.

2007-01-28T20:13:00.000+05:30

uff!!! I simply hate virtual reality.
There!I said it.
*scowl*

I'm so done with spooky creepy middle aged men trying to "make friendshipps" at orkut.Random strangers dropping in "just to say hi..";curious,freaky,nosy blockheads devouring the contents of my each and every scrap...I'm just done with all of it.I'm plain exasperated.bugged.pissed.big time.

The load's off me...finally!!!

2007-01-27T22:31:00.000+05:30

heard about an old friend's leg being amputed,today.from the knee down.felt disgusted.
frustrated,disgusted,and very very shocked.i wont delve into the details.
i've tried imagining her in a wooden leg...clomping about.
but i never could go beyond her face.radiant,joyous and ever smiling.i heard she hasnt stopped smiling.

and i cant help ridiculing myself for sulking over an inconsequential acne problem.i mean,am i really human???

2007-01-26T21:09:00.000+05:30

slept on the chhaad after a really really long time.felt good.nothing like flopping oneself on a madur and soaking up the sunshine.
wintry afternoons,chhaad,madur and the idle sun can make a heady combination.
i feel so rejuvinated.

2007-01-23T20:12:00.000+05:30

i hate the voices inside my head.i hate the way they scream at me.

groan.cackle.whisper.drawl.smirk.guffaw.grunt.scream.scream.howl.retort.cackle.

i hate it when i get into a meticulous spree.i plan.i organise.i write stuff down.and i boss.
oh god!how i boss.
not just others.but myself.mostly.
i jot things down that i might forget otherwise.and then i forget them inevitably.
you know there are some people who like being left to themselves.unkempt.disorderly.forgetful.dreamy.i'm one of them.i mess things up.i scowl at the camera.giggle.get into a giggling frenzy.cackle and roll into a feat till my sides ache.i'm almost always late.i'm forever broke.i'm forever hungry.guilty.happy.sad.idunnowhat.
my shoes are torn.my clothes are crumpled.my hair tussled.blunt nails.and i'm forever making paper boats.squinting eye.cringing nose.hogging.belching.giggling.making boats.
and i love the clouds.the sky.and the sun.i used to like the moon and the stars too.but i dont like them anymore:(
ooof!i have really lost it this time!!!

2007-01-22T20:56:00.000+05:30

results out.
boo!
me is bheree bheree sad!!!:(
boo hoo!!!

2007-01-20T15:04:00.000+05:30

Its been three long months since I had blogged last.And I probably wouldnt have even today had Things not been so inexplicably mundane around here.What with precisely nothing to do,here I am trying yet again to revive my once upon a time old blogging spree...although I still am sceptical about how long this will last..afterall not all days are as uneventful as today(and thank God for such small mercies)

Things have suddenly been awfuly hectic for the last few months..and they will continue being so for some time longer.Classes have been scheduled from 10.20 in the morning and if ED courses are included,things go on as late as 4.30.Had this been the case even a semester back,you would have found me throwing a ruchus at this sheer "injustice"(yes,ladies and gentleman..thats precisely how i would have addressed the case!!!).But not now.Quite uncannily I have grown(am growing)acquainted to this and much much more.And since the change is (in all probability) for the better,I atleast am not complaining!!!

I wasnt really prepared to make a comeback in blogosphere(trust me,otherwise,things would have been pretty grand!!!)and I can figure that its showing rather evidently.After all,wasnt it the same old 'me' who went about saying she would only and only blog again if she comes across 'things' or 'events' that are significant and which she deems necessary to be blogged about."Well?Whatever happenned to all that?",you would say.Quite so.I agree with you totally,absolutely and whole heartedly.Quite,quite so.But before you hurl further accusations at me and call me a *****ing something,I plead you to pause for a minute or two.Pause for the sake of humanity and spare a thought for this poor soul(no.no i am surely NOT trying to gain your sympathy.*gasp*NO!!!!)

But if you ever have had a tiff with your mum on a gloomy wintry afternoon and retreated to your den sulking and calling yourself names for being a ****whatever,and stared blankly at the comp with nothing to do,nowhere to go,nothing to listen to,nothing to read...and felt a stifling warp of boredom creep into you,you would probably remotely relate to my situation.
Hadnt you lesser mortals then done the same as me...drenched yourself in exasperation and blogged about it ,telling the whole wide world how shitty it feels to be 'you'~just at times?
Well then,wasnt this an event just as much as any of other events happenning around you?

There!I made my point.Gah!

2006-10-09T15:38:00.000+05:30

Sleeping has become one of my recent pet passions.You'd catch me flopped on the couch almost all the time these days,snuggling to the cushion doing what I do best!!!sleep!
wee hours in the morning-sleeping(duh!)
late at night-sleeping.
sometime in between the morning and afternoon-zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
sometime in between evening and night-ditto.
But what amazes me is that I never seem to get enough of it...it just goes to show how inexplicably lazy and free I am.I am left with so much free time,that I dont seem to understand what I should do with all the time I've got in my hand.Ya!Watching movies,plays,listening to music,reading are always an option.but the point is for how long??You cant go on watching movies in and out.Well!Maybe you can.I CAN'T!
I am reading Tarun Tejpal's "Alchemy of Desire" right now...and I must say I'm really liking it.I quite like Tejpal's imageries,random use of metaphors,how he manages to potray places so far far away,sometimes totally non existent, with so much elan!
Went to watch "Ye" yesterday.And I have just one thing to say."WATCH IT!!!"
I usually have the habit of divulging all the nitty gritties of a play I've watched lately(and quite an irksome habit it is,I admit!)but this time I wont say much.I wont because I have been bowled over by Deb Shankar Haldar's acting prowess(here I go again!) and I don't think words are enough to measure his credentials.
And I've started missing college already.Seems ages since I last went in there.Rehersals tend to take up major portions of the day.So that's a relief!Although the dialogues can be a major pain in the ass at times.Its difficult conjuring up a character that lived some centuries back,at a time so far removed from today.But we are all trying,still.
I wont be surprised if I take to the aristocratic way of living,talking et al in a month's time.now,that is scary,ain't it?I have to let go of my perpetual stoop,my stupid irritating sing song voice,my don't carish gait,in short everything that screams Anwesha.And that,trust me,is a humongous task.
Still hoping and still trying all the same,till next time,toodle doo people!!!

2006-09-22T14:10:00.000+05:30

blogging,ive discovered,is not one of my pet fascinations..not anymore.
so now you dont find me blogging about any and everything that happens in the life of lesser mortals like yours truly...i dont blog unless its eventful and worth noting.
people in Joo,ive realised,are not as level headed and cool about things as they pretend...its all in the face..but deep down inside they are gasping their throats out(never mind the bizarre imagery,you get the point)at every other event.
like always i'll maintain anonymity,and so will refrain from being explicit.
people,(and i hope all you conservative moronic blockheads are reading this) if two people from opposite genders are seen together during bulk of the college time,dont presume them to be "dating".better still dont smirk and wink when you cross them.
one doesnt need to be a rocket scientist to understand this.its plain.its simple.its something we have written on our face.WE AIN'T DATING.
if love is really blind and if you really cant see the point,i wonder who is in love really.(and yes,there WAS enough reason why i mentioned "really" all those three times...hrrrmmpphhh..)
i know this post will not change things...the smirks,the whispers,the winks,grunts,chuckles,et al will not dissappear into thin air.they might increase for all i care.but i was wanting to make my point,and ive made it.
its a free country and i wont impose my ideas onto you.i hope you do the same.

2006-08-28T10:15:00.000+05:30

ok...this ones going to be an extremely short and sweet girly post.
so all those who've started cringing their nose..."shoo to all of you..!!"
for one,i got my nose pierced..finally!!
picked up nice good stuff for pujo...i'm in a patiala mood right now...so chances are that all my stuff might get tailored in that fashion..
and that's pretty much it...
yaay!!
i'm happy:P

2006-08-24T09:03:00.000+05:30

i realise i have ceased being the regular that i was in blogosphere,once upon a time...sniff..sniff...
have been orkut-ing a hell lot.its fun in there.you get to meet with people you havent been in touch for quite a while.to cut this rather humongous story very,very short,its fun!
and how i love those who drop in once in a while,scrap random scraps asking if they could "make friendshipss" to you...i mean wtf??
make friendshippss...golly!and how do you "make" them,anyway?times like this i feel so heavily disillusioned.so goddamnly diffident.to think the things people are "making" these days...and look at me?what do i make?paper boats!sheesh!!if i ever could catch hold of that lady who used to take craft lessons in school,i'm seriously going to give her a piece of my mind...why,she never taught us how to "make friendshipsss" in school???did she think we were not creative enough to "make" them?those friendshippss?is that really what she thought?
it can be so heartbreaking to think your crafts teacher never really trusted your creative potential...never really respected the artist within you...and now,when the whole wide world "makes" friendshipss,you are left all alone...
i'm going to mourn over this for some time.parting with a heavy heart...sniff...sniff...

2006-08-08T09:29:00.000+05:30

okay!so I'm pissed again..and this time its for a reason way graver than the things i usually grumble about...

i seriously have a few bones to pick,and I'm afraid this post might raise questions from various quarters...but I don't really care about all that...i wanna vent my angst...and vent i will.

I had gone to olypub with a few friends this sunday and on our way back home(we were waiting right outside oly for a cab)a uniformed D.I.G came upto us...called one of my guyfriends a bokachoda for no tangible reason i can reckon with.And while my friend stood on the other side of the road,completely taken aback,trying to figure out why he would be called one(bokachoda,that is),the D.I.G (or that's what he claimed himself to be)laid back,resting his arm on the jeep's bonet like a pucca bangali darogamoshai-sizing me up.

i can't tell you how nauseatingly disgusting it felt letting myself be expoited like that.and i would have shrieked my lungs out and created a major scene had it helped me in the least bit.

the point is,i have no clue why, whatever happenned, actually happenned to us.
For,number one,none of us were acting weird/drunk/unstable.
number two,i don't recall any of us doing anything remotely obscene...unless waiting for a cab or talking on the phone can be counted as one.
number three,i wasn't wearing anything vaguely provocative(i was wearing a shirt and a pair of ankle pants,goddamit!)
number four,it wasn't very late in the night either...8.30pm isn't late by Park Street standards,is it?
you could say my friend acted rather dumb(why on earth would he let anyone get away calling him names like that,you might say)but you know what?in all probability you would have done the same had you been there yesterday...acting smart before sick,corrupted D.I.Gs doesn't get you anywhere...

the same goes for me.doesn't matter how big a tantrum i threw once i got into a cab.or how i bad mouthed the authority all throughout the journey back home.the fact remains i couldn't do a thing to stop that bastard from leching at me with that cheap smirk playing on his lips.

i wish i really didn't have to think sucha great deal about what a bhodro barir meye should do and what she shouldn't.
i wish i could do something from letting corruption fuck our whole goddamn system.
i wish i could plant a tight slap on that fucking D.I.G's face yesterday.
i wish...

the system has gotten so wrong from above,there's no point putting the blame on the grass root.

behnchod sala!!!

2006-07-30T15:57:00.000+05:30

Its been some time since I last blogged...
The reason behind my sudden disappearance from the blogosphere is not something I'm even remotely aware of...
I tried pondering over this for a while...I wasn't exactly what you'd call "busy"...my comp didn't crash...there was no technical snag...I wasn't gone visiting relatives in Uganda,nothing such what-so-ever!
So,there! lets just say I didn't have much to say,shall we??{although that's a doubtful claim...(i always have something to say!)}
I thought of a ceremonial comeback(batting eyelids...waving hand in midair...blowing kisses...'oh thank you...thank you...I missed you too!')but I guess that would have been a bit over the top...don't you think?
will I ever quit being melodramatic???

sigh!

2006-07-11T08:14:00.000+05:30

I am a senior...finally!!

YAAY!!

2006-07-03T21:10:00.000+05:30

"ekta nirobota theke
onyo ek nirobotay
shore jachhi ami..."

I'm a loner...well,mostly.I like being left alone to do 'my thing'..now whatever that might be...muse,gaze listlessly at absolutely nothing whatsoever,pucker my lips,make strange,strange sounds ,signal the birds,make paper boats,fiddle with the phone,squint my eyes,whatever...

and I hate crying in public...its one of my major paranoias...I become all conscious when I get crying before someone,and I totally hate people comforting me.Cracking jokes(stupid imbecile ones, at that)is so not the best thing to do when someone's depressed.The situation merely worsens.Why don't people get that??I like people who give me enough space to let me do my thing and enquire if everythings alright after the bawling gets over.

and for some strange reason I can't stop thinking about things I'd rather not think about.and there's this voice inside me which has been silently screaming'lebu cha...lebu cha..lebu cha...'for an hour now.it was 'prottutponnomotitto' the other day.

ufff!!!

2006-07-01T20:25:00.000+05:30

tu bin bataye
mujhe le chal kahin
jahaan tu muskuraye
meri manzil vaahin
tu bin bataye
mujhe le chal kahin
jahan tu muskuraye
meri manzil vaahin
meethi lagi,chakh ke dekhi abhi
mishri ki dali,zindagi ho chali
jahan hain teri baahein
mera saahil vahin
tuu bin bataye
mujhe le chal kahin
jahan tu muskuraye
meri manzil vahin
mann ki galli tu phuharoon si aa
bheeg jaaye mere khawobon ka kafila
jise tu gungunaye
meri dhun hai vahi
tu bin bataye
mujhe le chal kahin
jahan tu muskuraye
meri manzil vahin..."

2006-06-30T10:56:00.000+05:30

amar janla...

"amar janla diye ektukhani akash dekha jay
ektu borsha ektu grishsho ektukhani sheeth
sei ektukhani chouKo chhobi akre dhore thaki
amar janla diye amar prithibi

sei prithibite bikeler rong hemonte holud
sei prithibite pasher barir kanna sona jay
sei prithibita boroi chhoto amar janlay
amar janla diye amar prithibi

sei prithibite bachar janna judhho kori roj
ektukhani bachar janna hajar aposh
sei prithibir naam Kolkata ki Bharat janina
tumi tomar prithibir naamta jano ki?

tumi bolbe amar beniyapukur tomar behala
tumi gondi kete dekhiye debe poshchim bangla
hoyto keralar akash ar ektu beshi neel
tobu setao ki noy amar prithibi?

amar janla diye jay na dekha Islamabad
sudhu dekhi ami roj amar pasher barir chhad
ekta holde sari sukochhe ar mojar rongta neel
aj prithibita boroi rongin

keu Alabamay boshe bangla gaan-i gay
keu porchhe koran taar Japani janlay
tumi hisheb kore bolte paro Paris-er samay
tobu kar janlay ke ki dekhe,hisheb kora jay ki bolo?

moner janla achhe...
moner janla diye tumi beriye porte paro
Mexico-te boshe bajano jay guitar
kothay tumi tanbe bolo desher simarekha
amar janla diye gota prithibi

tai janla amar maane na je dhormer bibhed
janla jatiotabaader poroya korena
janla amar pub na poshchimer dike khola
janla se to nijei jane na...

janla amay sokal belay sonay bhoirobi
ar sondhye bela sonay John Coleridge
gaaner sure deshadeshi reshareshi nei
amar gaaner janlay gota prithibi..."

2006-06-24T21:07:00.000+05:30

Watched "C for CLOWN" at the Odeon theatre festival today...
Produced by Cinematograph,directed by Rajat Kapoor and written by Rajat Kapoor,Atul Kumar,Vinay Pathak,Keneth Philips and Sheeba Chadha,"C for CLOWN" was entertainment all the way
The script mostly comprised unadulterated gibberish garnished with a few english dialogues deftly thrown in between..the actors were funny,jocular,spontaneous,hilarious and all that you can think of when I say "Oh God!my sides have started aching..I'll explode if I laugh anymore".
The performers came up with impromptu improvisations,involving the audience in the saga all through...
The play mostly reflected the darker side of the clowns' life...exposed the face beneath layers of makeup and paint...the face that lies underneath all 'ha!ha!hee!hee!'...
Not exactly what you would call 'thought provoking',so to speak...not dark or anything,nothing you would get back home and muse on...but ,as I said before,it was pure entertainment ,nonetheless...
The costumes were innovative,the music was upbeat and the set was simple.
Rajat Kapoor was a dude...and I fell back in love with Ranvir Shorey...Sheeba Chadha was brilliant as "Fifi,the clown"..made me wish I could play her role.Vinay Pathak was good fun,as always.Ditto for Atul Kumar.

thought of the moment:~"To be,or, not to be a clown,that is the question..."

hee hee :p

LOL!

2006-06-18T21:00:00.000+05:30

...and unfortunately money seems to be the solution to all my problems right now.
guess, smiles are not all that you need to live a good life.

2006-06-17T21:35:00.000+05:30

"janish,Mahendra Singh Dhoni naki 3 litre doodh khay..."
"kiser doodh?tiktikir?"
"tiktikir abar doodh hoy naki,boka?"
"hoyna bujhi?tahole oder bachchara ki khay,re?"

uff !!! maane, ki bolbo!

2006-06-11T06:23:00.000+05:30

I had a bad dream last night...
I won't say much about what the dream was...only that,I fear it might come true.
Woke up in cold perspiration and found two new text messages on my phone which reasserted my premonition.
I hate it when my day starts like this.
To the person who came in my dream last night and sent me those messages,I wish I could hate you...
You asked me NOT to blog about you...there,I did it again!!

2006-06-06T20:05:00.000+05:30

I am not a poetry person...let's face it,I'm not the kind you would look out for when you're in the mood to discuss Neruda or Elliot for that matter...I can't write poetry for nuts, and I'm not a voracious devourer of poetry,either.
However,poetry composed in lucid, free flowing language manage to interest me much.I have a penchant for poetries such as these..so much so that I've often scribbled random verses I've heard somewhere in scrap pieces of paper and tucked them inside my jhola...
One such poster manged to grab my attention today...there it was prercariously hanging loose on the wall right outside JU...
The poem's called "Malda Station"...And it goes like this..

"station theke kaalo megher chhaya dekhte pai
musafir khanay jhogra kore lok
ami dekhte pai cha walla boshe kaade
dukhho holo engine-er awaaj
dukhho jokhon kome jay
neel akasher chaand dekhte pai"

some non descript,typically common place seventeen year old Raju Chakroborty wrote this..
'So what?',you'd probably say..
The irony is that Raju is a peddlar.He sells waterbottles and cold drinks at the railway station...the rest of the time he writes poetry...
It gives me goosebumps to even think that maybe someday I've bought a bottle of soda from the boy,carelessly thrusting the price in his hand, without realising for once that the fingers with which he took the money from me are the same nimble fingers that produce such wonderfully graphic poems like Malda Station
Incredible how these people still manage to dream so big despite whatever hindrances and struggles that befall them in their everyday fight for a better existence...
Kudos to Raju and all others like him who haven't yet been disillusined about life in general,and who still manage to potray the reality through such simple yet strong imageries.

[whoever wishes to read more of Raju's poems,or even other poems for that matter may log on to www.daywalka.org]

2006-06-03T10:17:00.000+05:30

I'm pissed.pissed with everything.this is my exclusive 'piss off time'.I'm pissed with the world at large.Pissed with myself,with mum,I'm pissed with the big guy up there,pissed with my best friend...
Byas!I'm just done with everything.angry,cross,exasperated.Nothing's working the way they should and I'm too tired and worn out to make that conscious effort to sort things out.Not this time.If things are this way,so be it.I can't straighten things out anymore.Let them be as they are...crumpled,messy,stray,haywire..I'm sick of ironing out the differences.Sick of acting the scapegoat.I'm gonna act selfish this one time and sit back and watch others as they clean the dishes, wash the laundry,take the garbage out..the regular stuff.

2006-06-01T22:19:00.000+05:30

8.20pm.wednesday night...(A on the other end of the phone)

me:-umm...A,i, ummmm,heard,ummmmm,that P.B is leaving college and all(trying to sound verrry cool,assuming all this to be somekind of a joke)

A:-yeah!he's leaving for bhopal..he's going there to study law and all...why didn't you know??

me:-whaaaaaa??really?you mean its not a joke?(trying to sound even more cool this time...hopeless, futile attempts...voice breaking...)

A:-why should it be joke man?he's leaving for real...even we are really shocked and surprised...infact...
I hang up.

There are times when i take myself by surprise,like yesterday.To think that I got this affected by the news of a friend leaving, is a surprise in itself...
We were never really the best of friends...but we were friends,atleast...and what can I say? it hurts real bad when friends go away...
P.B,in case you're reading this...take care,buddy!And please don't ever think I wanted you to go(I might have cracked a joke a zillion times about how relieved I would be if you left the department,but you do realise that I never meant it,right?)
be good and be happy wherever you might go...

2006-05-28T19:41:00.001+05:30

Ughhhh!I hate it when things don't work my way...
Now before I start ranting about my miserable life(again!)let me enlighten you all on my olfactory organ.my nose.
My nose is a rather sensitive little thing...(though i have doubts regarding it being "small"..its rather big...and cringed..and, i suspect, a bit crooked too...but woteva..that's not the point..that's how my nose is and that's that.hrmmph!)ya!so as I was saying..my nose is one hell of a sensitive thing..its prone to dust allergies..one swish of a broom before my nose and I would get a sneezing feat within a split second's time...
Now, I didn't get into a dusting spree..if that's what you've been deducing from what I just said...
Nope sir...nothing of that sort.I was having a most amazingly boring day(boring..monotonous..but NOT miserable,mind you)till this mishap came knocking on my front door and,the prepostorous little moron that I am,I gently let it in...
arrghh!there I was scrubbing my face with a 'gentle' face wash till some of the soap suds conveniently got into my nose and before I knew it, I had started sneezing...and believe you me..I still am..and its been a good 4 hours since the mishap took place...and whattdoyouknow...there's no stopping me..I'm sneezing away to glory...blurred vision,running nose,concerned mother in tow...Life's been SO eventful in the past few hours...scowl...
Tried aroma therapy(didn't work)...tried listening to mellow music(didn't work)..tried distracting myself by watching telly(didn't work)..finally mum suggested "blog koro,na?"(does she know me or what?) and that,my fellow compassionate bloggers,is what I've been trying to do for an hour now...
I'll try getting some sleep now(if my blessed nose lets me,that is...considering the kind of mercy it bestows on me once in a while)
[p.s:-and whoever came up with the tag line.."gentle" face wash for gentle skin...wait till I recover..I'm gonna sue all of you..I swear...bloody liars!]

2006-05-27T13:51:00.000+05:30

The sky's almost invisible from my verandah...you have to virtually crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the sky or count the stars adorning the velvet night sky...
I like my verandah otherwise...its pretty much non descript,what with a couple of chairs and a colossal pile of old yellow newspapers and dog-eared magazines stashed at one of the farthest corners..its one of those small nooks in the entire household which I can conveniently call 'my space'...
Ever since we moved to this place in 2000, the verandah is one of the places I've spent most of my time in...(another deliberate reason for this being the poor ventilation in my room..) the verandah has been my favourite hang out zone..my den..my abode..my whatever...
and unlike the usual ones, this one opens out to our backyard..overlooking which is a humongous garden and a shallow mucky pond behind it...you get the picture...your desperate endeavours to catch hold of another homo sapien are all going to turn futile...however hard may you try...
This is precisely why I adore this spot even more...one can spend hours in here..without being irked by the presence of another individual...and blissfully while away all his time gaping at the exotic birds and cranes that flock to the garden every morning.
Its one of the most wonderful sights...ever!!Watching the parrots and kingfishers and gaang shalik and haari chachas...the sparrows pecking on the papayas and mangoes..and the outrageous maali bhai shoo-ing them away with a stick!

Now!Doesn't it all seem like a dream?And to think that this place is positioned right in the heart of South Kolkata..My!My!We really are lucky!

2006-05-27T10:37:00.000+05:30

I was perched on the JU bridge when it started raining today...tiny beads of rain trickling down your upturned face has to be one of the most ethereal experiences ever...
It didn't rain much to wet my hair today..just enough to wash off my fatigue...
I'm going to sail a boat the next time it rains...

2006-05-22T19:23:00.000+05:30

Yet another non descript day of my existence...yet another brick in the wall...lethargen engulfing my body and soul...seeping into my whole being like some deadly virus...
uncanny how we make a zillion plans while the exams are under way...and how they never work out once the exams get over....
today was extremely humid-hot-sultry-i-dunno-monotonous....and uneventful.
I'm turning lazydumbstupidslowretard.
and I can't stop myself from asking people to treat me...what's disconcerting in this case is that they do give in ..and i end up hogging a lot more than my system can take(or rather, should take) which in turn makes me feel pukish(which is worse than throwing up..it never happens anyway...its just the nausea...)but I keep doing it anyway...
my face is breaking into pimples again..ughhh!i hate summer..and I loathe this humidity..and I absolutely HATE oily skin.
I think I'm gonna go to college everyday..oh well!! I've nothing better to do...and I think I'm in love with the krishnachura gachh overlooking the jheel...I kept looking at it the whole day.sigh.
Oh!and I'm having this recurrent overwhelming urge to get my nose pierced...I kept thinking of it the other day...I dunno..guess I've been gripped by the desi fever big time...and maybe..may...beee...if this persists I'll probably do get my nose pierced...
I had this fetish for tattooes way back in my secondary school days...that was before i realised the kind of pain one has to endure in order to get oneself tattooed...its just nosepiercefetish now...secretly hoping that this,too,will pass...I seriously don't want to go for something that I'll repent for later on...
and I'm so totally in love with my brown eye pencil...
I know this is turning into some extremely girly incoherent ramble kind of a post...but that's exactly how my mood is right now...incoherence is profound. inane...yet so so profound.
and I can't stop humming "Crush" by Mandy Moore...this happens to be one of those phases when my bouts of cynicism just goes overboard.

I wanna paint the world yellow...with specks of pink and blue strewn all over.

2006-05-21T09:12:00.000+05:30

I love the smell of wet hair...not the water-trickling-down-wet...but the damp,moist kinda wet...
I find it very intoxicating...like the smell of moist earth after a heavy shower...its got this mild aroma in it...mild,yet so strong...
I like it when the rain soaks my hair leaving it all frizzy and unkempt...
I wish it rains again today...I wanna wet my hair in the rain...again!

2006-05-20T19:53:00.000+05:30

it rained today...
large drops of rain that fell on my face...soaking my hair...unleashing the child lurking in some deep corner inside me...it had been playing truant for some time...till it got caught in the midst of todays torrential shower...i have put it in my treasure chest and tucked it away in a dungeon...
there..now that's done.
now for the chocolate icecream and milk pudding...ahh!bring them on!

2006-05-20T11:22:00.000+05:30

psychedelic dreams...fragments of my warped imagination...and a warm concoction of sweet remembrances called Kolkata...all this...that...and much more...much,much more...

loved yesterday for everything...for the lazy breeze that brushed past me...dabbing a bit of its care free essence on me...loved yesterday for it helped me fall in love with myself...fall in love with the city...for the nth time...loved yesterday for the mellow baanshir awaj that's still reverberating inside me...for that mindblowing natok at Academy that stirred the dormant conciousness within me...for the walk back to the Exide bus stop...that walk past Rabindra Sadan...Nandan...past that urchin,squatting on the pavement outside Nandan...playing the most heart wrenching tune in his baanshi...it was almost ten in the night then...and I wished I could stay there forever...

I've never felt so emancipated as I feel now...yesterday will live with me forever...that walk...baanshir awaj...Sahajiyadir obhinoy...I won't be able to forget these...however hard may I try...

2006-05-09T08:48:00.000+05:30

"keu gaan gaye keu gaan shone eta ekta
kothay sure kacche ashar chesta
majhkhane achhe lenden achhe poisha
eta kachhe ashar bhalobashar byabsha

keu boi lekhe keu boi pore keu porena
keu porte boshle ektuo norechorena
keu porate porate nijei porte parena
ami chini emon onek jara
o aa ko khho horsho-i ki jane na

tumi natok cinema boimela choshe jachho
tomar moner mathar kkhideta metachho
keu khawachhe ar tumi pran bhore khachho
tomar kheye ar kheyi-r bongshota barachho

keu beshi khay karu khide payna
keu sostar kono kichhui khete chayna
keu onek khey korchhe khawar bayna
ami chini emon onek jara
saradin kichhui khete payna

ami gaan likkhi ami gaan gai eta rojgar
keu ticket katey amar gaaner jolshar
karo gaan dami karo gaan sosta
keno bechte chayna konodin gaan tar

keu alta beche keu beche ayna
keu sohoje kono kicchui bechte chayna
keu bechar moto kichhui khuje payna
ami chini emon onek jader esob kono kichhui eshe jayna..."

2006-05-09T08:30:00.000+05:30

radio stations can be sucha major turn off,man!!
when would they understand that there is more to music than just himmesh reshamiya(i probably got the spelling wrong...but i don't bloody care:[ )and his ever so nauseating nasal tera suroooor....disgusting how he keeps droning on and on and on...
i wish the radio people had better tastes...
haven't heard anjan dutt's bondhutter hoyna podobi in a reeeeeeeaaallly long time...could anyone spare his/her c.d??
pleeeaaassshhhe?(doleful-innocent-eyes-with-batting-eyelids)

2006-05-08T03:03:00.000+05:30

if there was this one female I'd NEVER think twice before changing my sexual preferences for...it has to be Meg Ryan..hands down...
aaah!gawd..isn't she a total babe??
Meg,if you are reading this...I Love You....mmmmuuuuaah!!

[to all those sniggering behind my back...gah!my babe rocks!!!anyone who disagrees can go get their eyes checked,their neck wrung,their throats slit,their arms slashed...you get my point..you love my babe,or you go drown yourself

2006-05-05T21:55:00.000+05:30

when i first started my blog i intended to make it somekind of an insight to the life and times of the individual i am...
there were these stupid myths about me being the jester who cracks jokes 24*7
i guess the myth is broken...rather shattered...by now!and i must say i am more than happy.relieved,so to speak...imagine being deemed something that is not even half as much your identity...not even close...imagine the frustration when people don't understand you,atall...or even try understanding you...i'm happy I'm out of it...or atleast partially out of it...and thanks to my blog...the job's been easier...
but in the process i have bored people enough...i mean who cares about how screwed up you are...maybe some of them genuinely do...but after a while it just gets boring...monotonous...i get the feeling...its like you can't really relate to that person anymore...uncanny how i got transformed from the resident buffoon..to the tragedy queen...i agree i wanted to come out of the former's skin but I HAD NO INTENTION OF BECOMING THE LATTER..good heavens NO!!
it took me sometime to realise that i wasn't really liking what i was doing to myself...indulging oneself to sink in his own melancholy is not that great an idea...and so i resolved i won't blog until i came out of it...i did go to other's blogs..even left a comment or two here and there...but blog I didNOT...(smug smile)and now here i am..can't really say i am prancing with joy right now...but it feels better than it felt before....wheeeeee!(jesus christ...i can't even contrive happiness..gah!)
so there,to all those people who coaxed and cajoled me to stop posting such depressing posts,those who dubbed me an arunava clone(ugh!) and all those who mailed me to get blogging again..."here i am...this is me...there's nowhere else on earth i'd rather be..."
yeah baby:P

2006-05-01T19:58:00.000+05:30

had this really weird dream last night...saw myself jumping off the english ledge...but the fall seemed to last for eternity...and i think i saw myself wearing some cheap red lacey stuff with lots of mirrorwork done on them...(i mean who wears such stuff,anyway?)...but the point is that i kept falling for a really long time...although i remember i took off from the first floor...so i had this stupid dream.period. but the point is that i really can't get it out of my head...its driving me insane...i mean,you tell me how long does it take for a person to fall???and whatever was i doing in that bizarre outfit,anyway??heck!shooo weird thoughts...just shooooooo!!!
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I'm turning into a resident groaner,brooder of sorts...sulked for a few days for not having made it to "midsummer night's dream"...bad mouthed myself for living such a non descript life...surely i deserve better...i could have made it to the play...i "could have" done a lot many things...i "could have"....but i did NOT... gah!!!
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and I'm starting to hate maa for making matters worse for me...i wish she would stop hitting me below the belt...sometimes i wonder whether she really knows me at all?or even bothers to find out...i wouldn't have really cared had she let me be instead of picking after me...
and the heat is just getting unbearable now...its somekind of an inter related chain of circumstances...if something has to go wrong,everything goes awry all at the same time!!!
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and suddenly I'm hungry for love...not the holding-hands-whispering-sweet-nothings-mush-mush....not that....something more meaningful than what I'm into right now...ineffeble...plain...simple...and yet so pure...so surreal...ethereal...
guess I'm asking for a little too much...that kind of thing doesn't even exist...gah!!
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2006-04-26T09:33:00.000+05:30

my life's turning into some kind of a weird joke...(nasty,so to speak)too many coincidences...a little too many surprises...too much telepathy...it just ain't funny anymore...
ughhhhhh...why me???

2006-04-20T10:00:00.000+05:30

It feels really frustrating when I can't express myself..its happenning right now...there is so much I'd like to say(or,atleast I think i do..)but I just can't find the right words...
dhyatt....bhallage na:(

2006-04-15T13:00:00.000+05:30

"jokhon moner bhitor surjota hothat doobe jaye
jokhon asha bhorsha shob rasta haray
jokhon bhordupure pather dhare ekla kore bhoy
jokhon bus-er bhitor bhirer majhe kanna chapte hoye
jeno,tomar motoi ami hatre berai
jeno,tomar motoi amar bondhu ekta chai

shesh bole kichhu nei...
shesh bole kichhu nei...
jeno,shesh jekhanei...
shuru shakhanei...

jemon majhdoriyay nouko
bhire ashe kinaray
ore!manush jokhon achhe
tokhon hath-o jute jaye

shesh bole kichhu nei...
shesh bole kichhu nei...
jeno,shesh jekhanei...
shuru shekhanei..."

amar bhishon priyo manusher lekha gaanta...nobobarshe shokoler janne....
Shubho Naboborsho...

2006-04-15T04:27:00.000+05:30

mundane afternoon...except for the continuous groaning of the fan and the occassional sound of missed calls, there's an abrupt silence in the room...not exactly eerie but awkward,nonetheless...
i miss college...i miss ledge,the most...which has now become a part of my existence...the bridge has been closed down for some time now...dilapidated and rickety(read,extremely),the bridge always spooked me especially at night when it would cast this grim shadow on the jheel standing tall like a man with arms outstretched...i miss the bridge too,now that i think of it...
two more days...TWO freaking days before monday ...gawd!how i hate weekends...
people reading this probably think i have got nothing better to do than go to college and gush about it in my blog...but the fact is I'm so passionately in love with joo that i can't imagine staying away from it for long...for me bunking college equals insanity(ask the people who stay with me)
the feeling was more or less the same even when i was in school..i would hate bunking school...come hail or storm i always made sure that i was present in school (no wonder,i bagged the attendance prize,twice in a row...missed the third time by a day or two..shucks!) but now that i have passed out i don't even miss school all that much...
uncanny though it may seem,i hardly think of school...leave alone miss it...wonder if it would be the same when i pass out of joo...
i know i'm being VERY incoherent here...lethargen,it seems has gotten into my blood...my 'flesh and blood'(loved the way we used to re-iterate the phrase during the "Not Oedipus"rehersals) don't even feel like moving my bum and going out for walk...
i need some fresh air..its very stale and gloomy inside my room...poor ventilation...the window in my room opens to a verandah...result.no air and no light...the space is crammed...all the furnitures are dumped in my room in a vague disorderly fashion...i never used to mind it before..i do..now...I WANT MY ROOM BACK!
mum's shocked at my rebellious antics and demands an apology!I'm holding on to my ego...dad's given up all hope on me...he used to be vocal before.but now,he simply sighs,nods his head,sighs again and departs into the study.period.
I'm turning into a rebel cum brat cum snob of sorts...
I'm becoming more and more estranged with every passing day...i can feel it...i dress in a bizarre fashion,relatives eye me curiously at every social do..not that i care but they still give me that look which screams "you don't belong here"...
I've grown used to all the frowns,smirks,chuckles and raised eyebrows...
cliches everything...all this.
do something that i haven't seen you do before...
take me by surprise...
make my jaw drop...

2006-04-10T19:42:00.000+05:30

Had FIVE honours classes today...back to back...
It was gruelling ,but, satisfying nonetheless...
Helped me keep my mind off things that bog me down badly,otherwise...
I want more days like today.

2006-04-09T17:57:00.000+05:30

The weather's SO nice outside...I want to go out but mum's put her foot down...times like this I wish I was born a guy...then I wouldn't have to worry about going out in the dark all by myself and keeping mum posted on where I was everywhere I went...
I want to become a boy just this one time...and go out and take a long walk all by myself without mum worrying her head off about where I am...

2006-04-08T12:12:00.000+05:30

When would I learn to set my priorities right?
When would I learn to draw a line and get serious about things that are of some importance in my life?

Would I learn EVER???

2006-04-07T19:23:00.000+05:30

Had no class today...yet went to college...spent about a couple of hours in the library(good ole' nerdy me!)flipped through a zillion refences...leafed through a zillion more...pursing my lips and groaning silently...fidgeting...nervously calculating the number of days left before college closes for study leave.Damn!I'm SO screwed this time!!!
Had screening today...thought they would show my brother nikhil...they showed us dilwale dulhania le jayenge instead...walked out of the screening...heavily let down and majorly heart broken...
Had carried ha-ja-ba-ra-la to college today because I remembered P.B telling me once that she hasn't read it...read it out to P.B and D.C...while they sat through the entire session listening to me with rapt attention...it made me feel very important...made my heart swell up with pride...made me feel as if I've been able to tag them along in my flight to fantasy...
beral khushi hoye bollo,'ha,e to bojhai jachhe -chandrobindoor cho,beraler talabyo sho,rumaler maa-holo chashma.kemon,holo to?'
ufffff....it was sooooo exhilerating.You all should have been there watching me read it out loud...shining eyes,giggling inconsolably at the slightest provocation...it was all such fun!
[on a different note,i think 'S' is mad at me...i dunno why...i wish he would tell me instead of flaring his nostrils(*~*he looks cute when he does that*~*)everytime our eyes met...]

2006-04-06T20:34:00.000+05:30

I'm screwed...
Barely a month left for the end sem and I haven't done half as much studying as I intended to do(rather,resolved to do)...gah!who am I kidding?I bet I haven't even done the barest minimum studies any pupil with average intellect needs to do to dodge a suppli...heck!I'm screwed.BIG TIME!!!
As if this wasn't enough to bog me down...my cousin's wedding had to get fixed and its happenning this april.Now let me tell you what I'm not.I'm NOT the pretentious bitch who plasters that fake smile on her face and sheepishly grins at acquaintances on being introduced at biyebaris.I have tried doing that...I've tried telling myself that its going to be over soon and I would again be back to my own space tomorrow...but its never worked and I've failed miserably everytime...
Let's face it.I cannot be a hypocrite and say I'm doing great when I'm clearly dying of claustrophobia...
I'm not extremely pally-pally with my cousins...being the youngest in the family I've always had problems communicating with them...I was "way too babyish for them" before...I guess I'm way too yuppy by their standards now...so there!!
And the only person who could really make things better and less boring for me wouldn't be here for sometime now...(i miss you,dada!)The wedding's on the 20th of this month...the whole family,I'm calculating,would be agog with biye songkranto activities from 19 to the 23rd...I'm having this overwhelming urge to run away and take refuge somewhere for these few days...anything to save me from this hypocrisy...letsee...
Oh!and I've a project to submit and yet another viva this monday...its on gupta dynasty and feudalism...I still haven't got hold of any references...I can totally foresee what my weekend is going to be like...I would fool around all through saturday...chicken out on sunday morning...realise there's a LOT of work left to be done...and very little time...hence i would panic...post some more self indulged "my-life-sucks-why-is-it-me-everytime-I-hate-myself"..blogs(I pity you,readers!!!).fret and thereby kill some more time...mentally curse myself a zillion times...chew nails(if anything's left to chew,that is!)...drive the whole neighborhood up the wall ranting like a lunatic and then...when my reckless insanity finally succumbs to sanity,I'll gather myself and settle down "to study" burn the midnight oil and finish the project...leaving the mugging part undone(will do it in the morning-it never works!)go to college still cursing myself for being an irresponsible freak...screw my viva...groan out in public...nag for sometime before someone snaps at me and therefore bruises my dignity...
its a viscious cycle I've fallen into...I've grown so used to this by now that it seems impossible to come out of it...

2006-04-06T12:27:00.000+05:30

don't ask me what this is..its something i drew sometime back during my bouts of boredom...reminds me of pretzels...

2006-04-05T19:46:00.000+05:30

pray,tell me,is it really me or them???

some general observations:-
a)person A and person B have amazing compatibility...they gel incredibly...read each others thoughts like a piece of text...say a lot without really blurting anything out loud...were together for a long time but broke up eventually...
manage to still build up the chemistry everytime they meet but are not too keen on getting back together.
b)person X and person Y have little or no similarity...they mostly fight and are still "going around" for sometime now...surprise!surprise!
c)some person G considered person B to be a jerk until recently...they are officially dating now..but if you ask me I still can't believe it!!!(whaaaaaaaaaat????)

Such is the irony of events...
me pheeeels bheri lost...

2006-04-02T21:24:00.000+05:30

Its weird how my weekend To-Do list always turns into the Not-To-Do list and vice versa...
I think I decided on a)STUDY A LOT...and
b)NO NET SURFING
And look how i conveniently interchanged the two...
like everytime...
sigh.....

2006-04-02T01:18:00.000+05:30

Got sick of black...
grey and pink suits me fine...
i wanna have chocolate sundae...