Thursday, November 26, 2009


I sit here in front of the computer and wonder how to begin and where to, for that matter; and there is much to say. But I shall begin, anyhow.
It is 26.11.2009, a year since the Mumbai blasts. And for some strange reason I see no signs of any emotion in this city that apparently has a soul. True, a peace walk has been organized from the Citezen's Park to Victoria Memorial covering a distance of just about half a mile, but is that enough compensation for lives lost. Belonging to a school which has a firm belief in the existence of God, made no mention about Him resting the souls of the men who lost their lives and the ones who sacrificed. Belonging to a family where the father has been serving in the Indian Army for more than two decades, no mention was made of the officers and jawans who laid down their live this day not less than a year ago.
How many of us remeber the names of the defence officers who were shot on this day. How many of us remember that it was because of a defective bullet proof vest that a woman lost her husband and a child, his father. How many of us remember just the number of people who were shot down by terrorists exactly a year back.
There is much that I have to say but at this moment I have a lump in my throat. So this where I stop.
Kolkata, is perhaps no more what it used to be. Perhaps, it is no more the city of joy. ___________________________________________________
Someone had once told me that I make a very bad writer when I am angry. I make a bad writer anyway, I realize. But today, I feel an emotion that I havent felt in a long time. Today, I feel ashamed. For the first time ever, I feel ashamed of belonging to a city which perhaps somewhere, is losing its heart. I feel ashamed that the city which made me fall in love with the very existence of mankind is making me question my love for it.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

The sweet smell of wet earth,
Bent trees
Drops of water on leaves.
Wet and cold,
Mushy,
Snug.
Her disarrayed hair
His warm skin.
Tangled locks
Slippery sandals
Dark skies,
Dark eyes as the skies above.
Smell,
Of his skin.
Puddles of muddy water
Ripples and a paperboat
Driftwood.
Walking down narrow lanes
The hem of her skirt
The whiteness of her legs
The smell in his neck
Nose rubbing nose
Eyelids touching eyelids
Light brush of lips,
And melting down.
So drowsy,
Long fingers clasped around
Pudgy ones.
So very drowsy.........

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Am really sorry that I am fifteen-n-a half hours late...


But....



HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Wild at Heart

"Just ask your brother no,Goddammit!"
"I can't..."
"Now what does that suppose to mean,Oindree?"
"Guddu,I can't possibly sit down and type so much."
"Why exactly can't you do that?"
"I just don't visualize myself doing that..."
And so it ended.
That was it.
Nothing more was left to be said or done.
She didn't visualize it and that meant it won't happen.
This is one person who has an exceptional foresight.She can't possibly tell you what is going to happen but if she doesn't VISUALIZE something then it rarely happens.Luckily (or unluckily) she visualized me to be her friend.One such friend whom she meets once in a year and at times doesn't talk to for months at a stretch but calls up when she is standing alone in the bus-stand just to say,"Its so damn hot in Kolkata..whats up in Kalyani?"She watches the Moon at night while doing Differential Calculus.She doesn't eat Fuchka from the roadside vendors.She likes Shahrukh Khan and plays the Violin (Oh the way she plays it!).People at restaurant stand up just to get a better look at her when she starts laughing .She keeps the water running in the bathroom so that nobody can hear her sobs,when she cries.She doesn't miss school even for a day ("This is my last year in school...I can't stay without going to school.") She gets angry when people take her Lunch-box away.She thinks that the Moon in Kalyani is brighter than that in Kolkata and she writes....

'Being able to do what you want to do' and names it 'Wild at Heart".




Non-existent...well...Yes...the blog is definitely almost NON-EXISTENT because people somehow do not find it worth writing in...they have their own separate thingy and are actually wearied to even disclose its existence...huh!!

Well now that I've successfully answered back to the earlier post which though had made me feel good to a certain extent,had completely driven me mad by its insolence (Pardon my language...I've been watching too much of old English movies),I can actually start apologising to the readers..that is if we have any.

Actually to tell the truth I really never cared whether we had any reader or not...because I, myself used to read our posts over and over again until I was so well-known to them that I could actually quote from them but times come when one is separated from the very thing which he used to almost live of...and yes, you've certainly guessed correctly...I am definitely talking about myself and if you are wondering why I am using so much of adverbs then ITS MY BLOODY CHOICE and also because I think adverbs bring out my sarcastic and sardonic mood better than much of the many celebrated figures of speech...like conceit or allegory or may be our-very-own Oxymoron.

Now as my dear Better-half has correctly pointed out in her earlier post and many more before it that we hardly have enough readers, I must say that I totally agree. Its indeed very frustrating and, in search of a right term, irritating to know that nobody really cares about your hours of labour but still I would stick to my outrageous ego and say that I give a crocodile's arse to all the people who even after knowing of our existent do not bother to read or check our blog and (may be I'm asking for a bit too much but still...) inspire us to continue writing by urging us to write.

I know we had threatened the Big-bad world and all that but now that we are actually living in it..we understand..rather realize the elaboration of the name...it has got us a bit busy but still we are managing fine...Yes...charmingly good...and you believe it or not... we may be out of sight for a while but we are definitely just around the corner getting our next big thing ready...might take time..but it'll definitely come.

Certainly will.

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Breathe in...

1

2

3

4

5

... ... ...

breathe out...

slooowwwlllyyyy....

now that feels good...really does.

:)

I'm calmed now.

Now...

Sorry THIS...the outburst was definitely not for you..and you know that I guess...was tired of smiling at people without a reason...had to vent out...Thank you for giving me the scope.

Yours Forever.

Monday, August 3, 2009

For the almost-non-existant blog.
I have forgotten how to play with words therefore i shall just rave and rant.

First reason for anger:
The sudden awakning of the authorities to the pollution in Calcutta and the removal of all public vehicles which have been on the road before 1993.
Dude, agreed that the the pollution level in Cal is very bad and something ought to be done about it. But that definitely doesnt mean that you sack so many people snatch their living away!! This could have been done in phases bringing in replacements slowly, पर नही, अगर हमारे पास इतना दिमाग होता तो आज ये दिन देखना पड़ता!! There are an uncountable number of people who've lost there jobs and and an even more uncountable number of people who will stop getting two square meals a day.

Second reason for anger:
Thereis a bandh (again)in Cal. Or rather something that you can't exactly call a bandh but something on those lines.Subhas Chakroborty passed away yesterday(if you dont know who he is then please get lost-i am in no mood to give explanations.)
Thus the transport system, rather whatever is left of the transport system, of the city has said that "today we shall not drive, today we shall remain at home watch tv, see our kids go hungry for a day and when night falls, have unprotected sex with our wives."
I mean seriously, something's got to give. How is the comman man suppose to survive. How are people suppose to go to their work places and schoools and wherever else they have to go to earn their bread and butter???!!!!

I wish I could punch something right now.
Damnnn!!!!

Monday, June 15, 2009

She again...

She can be anything that you want her to be...

A perfect lover...jealous of all the girls you talk to...scolding you if you don't have proper meals...doing everything she can, to make you feel special...she is a perfect lover.

She can be the cutest sister one can dream of...sharing fights and laughter and vodka at times...giving you informations on prohibited topics with a wink...singing with you and smiling...a smile you can die for.

An one-of-a-kind friend...you simply can't imagine what she can do and what she can't.

As a daughter she is the best you can hope for...sticking by you in all your decisions...respecting you..loving you for whatever you are...whatever you say or do...she is as normal as any other kid just way more loving than any of them.

She is good...she is bad...
she is everything that's a tad bit sad... [;)]
She is the reason to be happy...her words can make you cry...
She is a whole new world in herself...a world where all your dreams lie.




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to my better-half :)

Friday, June 12, 2009

So what if I am not pretty,
So what if I am not hot.
So what if I can't make feel sexy,
So what if I don't give you the come on.
So what if I am not liked so much by your lot,
So what if I am not as that smart.

You should have heard me singing Joan Baez,
The light in my eyes would have blinded out yours.

Friday, May 22, 2009

BEGINNING-II

Starting a new life..sounds easy,doesn't it?
Almost as easy as changing school bags.Just take out the books and put them inside the new bag and you are done.

OHO! Don't forget to check the side pockets because ultimately all the important stuff are left in there---like that extra pen,almost torn notepad,one or two crumpled Rs.10 note and similar apparently unimportant stuff which later becomes the most important.

This starting-a-new-life thing is just the same.We take care of only those things which come across as the main thing---the reason of starting new life. But the side pockets of the previous life go unnoticed. And that is exactly where things go wrong. The side pockets nowever unimportant they might seem should always be checked or else ou'll be left with voids rather empty pockets in your life.

Beginnings -I

BREAKING NEWS
Since nobody apart from three people, namely THIS, THAT and OTHER, follow this blog, i am going to extremely impolite, not-so-decent and outrageously obvious.
Keeping in mind that they had already grown their wings, though they were people who tried to clip them from time to time, they just kept growing back (damn!!), it is now time for them to fly. Fly and reach out not to the stars or the moon but, to their dreams.

This is it. This is the new beginning.

And on behalf of THIS and THAT, I, THIS congratulate all of you out in that world that people say is 'big and bad', because now you will be joined by two people who will do things that have never been done before. Two other people , just two other people, making their place in the world, in their very own way!!!

Thursday, March 19, 2009

Units ands Measurements





How long is 'too long'? How is 'too short'?
How do you measure time?
Hours?
Minutes?
Seconds?
Shouldn’t time be measured in moments? In events? In memories?
Memories that you remember…moments that broke your heart or events that you cherish...events that lasted way too long like the family function with all those old n artificial aunties (artificial hair…artificial teeth…and even their gossips are also artificial… aaaarggghhh!!) or the moments that lasted way too short like the Dumdum to Kalighat metro ride with that pink salwar-kameez-wali by your side.






Shouldn’t time be measured in the memory of the echoing laughter of your younger sister when you’d tickle her?Shouldn’t time be measured in the smile that crosses your face at the very thought?Shouldn’t it be measured in the helplessness that you felt when you saw your mother having a bad headache and were old enough to realize her pain? The fact that you can actually do nothing about it but to just stand at the door and watch your father sitting with her head in his lap and a frown on his face---wouldn’t it be right to measure the beats of your scared little heart as time?






The first blankness that engulfed you after being announced as the winner of some silly competition which meant the world for you…the numbness that you felt when India lost the World cup finals…the crazy Bhashan dance on Dashomi…the fear on the night before the results…the cycle ride that ended in an accident…the sinking feeling when your crush went ahead and proposed to your best friend and she (that bitch!) accepted…the effort that went into making that surprise cake or that unknown bird cooing away on a very lonely afternoon---isn’t this time?



Then who (the hell) says time doesn’t come back. It is the only thing in this (freaking) world that is yours…completely and totally yours…coming back to you…whenever you want…at your very first call…over and over again.





Thursday, January 29, 2009

Let her be,
She hasn't hurt you.
Don't kill her.
Don't trample her beneath your feet.
Don't turn her to ashes between your finger.

All she does,
Is to come down with silent vengence.
Falling on noses, resting on eyelashes.
As soft as your lover's skin
a life of pristine beauty.

Let her live,she'll give you joy.
Let her breathe.
For those few minutes,
She just wants to live.
Oh please! Please let the snowflake live.

Monday, January 5, 2009

When you were busy....

Have you ever heard the dew drops falling on leaves?
A very rare sound to hear but if you get to hear it on a cold January night you’ll know why I’m writing this post.

You are busy with something…engrossed in some stupid work may be and you hear this first few drops and suddenly you feel like coming out of a trance and you’re relaxed. Your mind lets go of all the tiring thoughts, releases you of your duties and responsibilities and you just listen to that tip…tip…tip…feeling yourself as the dew, being lowered from leaf to leaf with every single drop and you feel as if you are back home---to the gentleness of your mother’s care, the depth of her love, the feeling of languor in her arms and the wetness of her kiss. The sound has an atonal melody to it which releases you of all the atavistic ways of life.

Your eyes gets closed by themselves but you can feel the surrounding with every breath you take---the chilly air, the calmness, the soft tip-tip through the penetrating silence and you can feel yourself glow with bliss. Through the velvety darkness you can almost visualize the sparkling drop of dew; soaking your senses and leaving a minty refreshment spreading like venom through every capillary, every nerve of your body making you burst out in bloom waking you up from your sleep like a new-born flower bud.

And somewhere inside, you know that the world is, after all, not such a bad place to live in.

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By the way Happy New Year readers…from you know…This and That and a few others may be :)