kill the barbie, save the child!

i hate kids. i despise those little 8 yr olds and their birthday parties. terribly.
i spent the better half of last evening trying to sit through my cousin's eighth birthday. and by the end of it, i seriously wanted to run for dear life!!!

it started fine, till yet another nameless, scary 7 yr old, spilled her pepsi on her rather ugly, pink and white barbie dress, and then decided to start howling. followed by the birthday girl, who had to burst into tears cuz of course, tht former irritating child had started the game, and of course, it was her birthday, and attention had shifted to whiney pepsi spiller. and that of course, was a criminal offense. then 5 yr old lill child decided to join in the tear shedding ceremony... why? well, wen asked, she very promptly replied, "cuz every1 else is crying!"

then came the magician and the clown and the malnutritioned rabbit and the pigeon with the broken neck. straight out of a cheap gore flick. and the kids, of course hated it. one 9 yr old, was brave enough to throw crumpled balls of tissue at the magician, after which a tissue fight, of gigantic proportions erupted, and whiny pepsi spiller, was ready to spill tears again.
then the clown was tripped, and the rabbit was almost strangled and the cake attacked. small fists, diving into the disgusting pin cream was a happy sight, perhaps, because it meant i wudnt have to eat it anymore. but of course, it wasn't good news for the walls or my poor aunt.

then came the barbie fight game, basically, a lame ass game, where the kids started telling tall tales about their barbies, trying to prove to the small small world, "my barbie bestest!" and of course the tales, were far from entertaining. i mean, the entire thought of a barbie helping you pack your school bag is scary, not to mention the other scary kinds who tie braids for unsuspecting souls, and bake pink muffins and of course, the kind which helps paint stars on the ceiling of the room. and it continued, and so did the horrifying shrieks and the tears at the cake throwing and the pepsi spilling and the hair pulling and the falling down and then more whines and then the passing the pillow game and then the miniature food fight.

by the time those things had left, i was the most perfect nervous wreck. i was not only traumatized, i also spend the next to hours watching saw, trying to cleanse my mind, soul, et all. yes, indeed, saw was more comforting than those pink clad creatures!!!

yesterday, i perhaps understood why people commit suicide. i was on the verge of killing myself. but i don't really suppose me killing myself would have affected the little horrors. they would've come up with "suicide bomber barbie" and "serial killer barbie" and perhaps even "dead and decaying barbie" soon enough! so much for respecting the dead.

i hate barbies. more than those vile things, i hate wonderfully pink birthday eighth birthday parties!

loita!?!?!

this is an extremely badly clicked photograph, bt the content ws too hilarious to be missed, and with the shopkeeper glaring at me, this was the best i could manage!

i found this awesome sight, adorning a dusty corner of a teeny tiny book shop on college street. i possibly might have been allowed to take a better pic, had i not spent 20 mins abusing the poor shop owner for not knowing who j.r.r. tolkien is! :P

aaaand, you all see miss paris hilton adorning the cover of a bengali book, and those, who can't read bengali, lemme translate the title for you... "LOLITA".

exam trauma

now that the foot is better, the brain seems to be in for a really bumpy ride!

with time, my ability to study, has completely withered away. till the last semester, out of fear, or respect, i bothered to peek into my books 24 hours in advance... i knew the syllabus too, and i though about the outcome... its a different story altogether that i went fr an exam stoned... bt what matters is, that i cared.

this time, i can't even seem to find the ratty piece of piece of paper where i had scribbled the syllabus down. now that i think about it, the last time i used something that remotely resembled that piece of paper, was to wrap up a mutialated, overchewed piece of gum and throw it out of the window!

i wonder, if i'm in a bit of a sticky situation now.

looks like my sense of humour's gone for a vacation as well.
which reminds me, what i wouldn't give to be sippin a pina colada on some nice shaded beach... lazing around and enjoying the sand and the surf!

daydreams apart, i think i need to locate that ratty piece of paper or else call someone else and get the syllabus yet again.

sad, sad it is... the bloody exam season!

scarlett keeling, what happened?

considering, all the hype that the media created about the unfortunate 15 year old... i wonder, what is happening now?

fiona mackeown, is finally satisfied with the imprisonment of only placido carvalho and samson d'souza? what happened to her screaming herself hoarse about the involvement of influential individuals?

and what is with the issuing of the "look out circular" for michael mannion, that prevents him from leaving the country? (for those who don't know who he is, he is a witness in the case)

and, what actually, has happened to carvalho and d'souza? are they in prison, have they been hanged, are they being tortured?

i can't understand what's wrong with the leading english dailies of the city of joy... don't us readers deserve updates about such things? what was the point, of creating such a hue and cry, when it was known that nothing would be done?

and, i guess, the verdict remains, that while, the indian government is trying to clean up the murkiness that now looms large over anjuna village, goa, this unfortunate incident too, gathers dust, like all the other rape cases that remain undealt with so far.

i wonder, what india's aversion is towards solving rape cases... its not very difficult. while the afghanis deal with the culprits the best, other nations too, take a stand. but what in india?
no-one, is being urged to hack off a penis yet, bt justice, should not be denied. (though, i, firmly believe rapists should be killed in the most painful way possible. i actually support the hacking off of penises. it should be implemented in india too... maybe then people will finally learn.)

in my 21 years of existence, the only rape case that saw a ray of justice, was perhaps the dhanonjoy case. bt then again, their were protestors, who fought for his rights, thinking so little about the little dead girl...

and what happens to the five odd rape stories that make it to the bloody newspapers everyday? are they taken care of? are they forgotten?

and, if the reader should know what happened, shouldn't she know the outcome too? bt then again, why blame the newspapers, with so mant rapes happening at ever nook and cranny of the country, its hard for them to keep track.

but, the scarlett keeling case disappoints me. i had hoped that we would know about the proceedings, without forgetting who she is... till of course the fateful day the rapists are either freed or killed... thats the least newspapers can do, respect the dead...

after working for eight months with a tabloid, i have decided. tabloids are a far better deal than the main paper. we publish what is outrageous. we don't attempt to make a sad incident outrageous to get readers. we are happy talking about nail polish and hair dye and dog food. and its not unjustified. what is, unjustified, are those pages, which evoke sentiments in a reader, and then leave them feeling like a gullible voyeur. unable to help, or even know further than allowed to...

i don't regret my decision of not reading newspapers anymore. i rather read the next mindless interview upen patel gives about the semi pornographic pics of him and deepika padukone. they allow me a good night's sleep.

love? chapter 3

and they lived...


hating each other, through a torrent of emotions randomly plaguing their hearts, making them utter profanities.
hating each other and making lives miserable in manners of the perfect sadist and the perfect masochist.
hating each other, for the guts that are put on display, and the guts they long to wrench out of each other's system.
hating each other and hoping for a whiff of fresh air.
hating each other, with a vengeance.


and they lived...


just cuz they had to.

love? chapter 2

forgive me for my past harsh post.

varun doesn't deserve the back biting. pain is inevitable.
neruda, eloquently sums up his saddest lines... and i whine... perhaos, there is beauty in pain. perhaps tears do make you see better... and perhaps, i, unlike the great poet fail to realize...

four years has been a long time, building a relationship on fantasies, on my part has been wrong... tonight, when i see it all fall apart, i have no1 to blame, but myself. relationships are a two way deal... dreams need to be reciprocated and understood... and i did not realise that, till now.

i'm trying to rebuild, with whatever i can salvage from the debris that remains from the past four years... good knows how many more months till i begin believing in love again... how many months, till i am able to look into his eyes and feel- something, anything... but, like i said, i'm a survivor, i'll survive...

yes, i shall be robbed of a few dreams, and what i though was the past shall haunt me... but i guess "fresh starts" are again limited merely to movies. even through the tears, i wish i could forget him somehow, and start afresh, in the true sense... love each expression on his face, enjoy the warmth of his body, without having pangs of pain shoot through my heart...

to err is human, they say, and we, as individuals have "erred" more than what can be counted. and each memory, remains fresh, with the pain that comes with it... i would like my memory to be rased, so i don't remember the past and then, i would love to meet him once more, at 6 in the morning, at howrah station, and take all back to the start. what i would not give for it...

love? (edited on 17.04.08)

all those, who have, like me, spent the greater part of their life, believing in the wonderful miracles of love and sniffling as movies like "shrek II" or "love actually" or "juno" draws to an end...

...should go jump off the nearest cliff.


love doesn't exist. movies fill your head with a lot of bullcrap that eventually leaves you in a world completely messed up.

have you ever seen a "harry met sally" or "you've got mail" or "shrek" or any other godforsaken sickeningly sweet romance shaping up in reality?

what about the cutest couple in your college/school/locality/blah? how cute are they a year into a relationship?

and, how come, movies, never warn anyone about what happens next? cuz, there are no such things as "happy endings",.

even the "happily ever afters" are a dreary routine, a sham that survives solely, for the sake of surviving, for love starved readers of the world, who tend to get more solace in books and movies than reality.

my advice: stop watching/ reading. you'll have a lot more peace of mind. you all deserve it!


p.s.- i shall kill all of you who ever told me that the significant v n i make the perfect couple... VERY painfully!

p.p.s.- and those who though we wouldn't survive, you are mistaken too.. its painful, but hell, i'm a helluva survivor!


p.p.p.s- excerpt from conversation:

me: heyyyyy!!

varun: hi

me: how was the day?

varun: okay

me: what didja do?

varun: i woke up at 5

me: and?

varun: nothin. what about u?

me: nothin much... had to sit fr 2 tests.

varun: ok, how were they?

me: ok... hopefully.

varun: so?

me: umm nothin.. so wassup?

varun: nothin

me: so?

varun: temme

me: nothin much.

varun: so?

me: so, we r back to the "so" game i see

varun: isn't it fun?



and we are a fuckin couple? i have to tolerate this every single day! and i seriously need to know, WHAT couples talk about, apart from the "so" game that is!

sunday, bloody sunday!

i am obese.
positively.
i hadn't realised the dangers of sitting at home, munching on chocolates and the like for the past eight weeks. but now, i have attained the impossible. i cannot fit into clothes and nothing apart from shapeless sack like garments seem to help.
plus, i'm sure i'm suffering from some unique eating disorder... the kind that makes me crave for food 24x7! its rather amusing that now all my life is about is food, food and more food.
i crave food even when i sleep... nightmares and sweet dreams both feature, well, food on a regular basis now.
happiness and sadness is also related to food, sometimes even directly proportional...
foodie i always was, but this new obsession is far from comforting...

i'm sad.


plus, its a sunday.


in the last eight weeks that i have been under house arrest, i have grown to detest sundays. they very animatedly bring out the "psycho stalker on the run" in me.
as i huddle from one room to another, trying to sneak some nicotine in my system, i feel outraged. with shanti di, grandmom and mum finding their ways into the darkest of corners, where i seek refuge, with their noses crinkled and eyes accusing, i have realised my ability to be an amazing one legged gymnast. for eight weeks now, i have perched myself, precariously (considering the fact i have a broken foot) on window sills, balcony ledges and the like, trying to keep away from them the telltale smoke and even the "faintest" smell. their ability to detect smoke somehow gets stronger on sundays, like some sort of sadistic weekend superpower... its very unnerving. not being able to enjoy a satisfactory puff on a sunday is very, very, verrry unnerving... at the age of 21, if you can't be trusted with your decisions and vices on a sunday, its definitely sad.

so amidst of all the depression, i smell biriyani cooking (love our new cook!! :D)


and i shall be off and enjoy my other vice, it is not looked upon with much unkindness yet!


p.s.- due to lack of much activity and also because of the fact tht i love tags, a sweetheart friend of mine and i have decided to dedicate an entire blog to tags!!!
http://tags-n-us.blogspot.com/

:D
i know, we are absolute geniuses!!!!

taggity taggity

was a part of the random ruminations..and i was rather interested! so here goes my version of it!

1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:

i can't remember...been soo long since i went out of the house...but i do hope to see a lot once the plaster comes off!

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?

the kite runner by khaled hosseini for the eighth time, the bourne ultimatum by robert ludlum, trying to understand the past bourne books in the process and mrinalini by bankim chandra chattopadhyay.

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?

snakes and ladders, (though i always throw a fit if i lose), scrabble, monopoly, battleship, othello, scotland yard... am very happy with this question. didn't know people were still aware of board games!!

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?

junior statesman, though it stopped publication in the 1960s. a brilliant read, with fresh humour from jug suraiya, bombaywallah, kookie and the like.
mad, for fun's sake.
readers digest.
and i shall launch my very own very soon!

5. FAVORITE SMELLS?

new books, cigarettes and adidas on a significant v, the smell that follows you everytime you pass a mughlai eatery, coffee, mom's cooking, baby powder... these are the only ones i can remember right now.

6. FAVORITE SOUND?

winds howling as a storm gathers on a hot summer evening; the rain, in all its moods; the sea; hearing people breathe while they sleep (i said breathe, not snore. i hate people snoring); my grand mom singing; my phone ringing everytime the significant v calls; the streets in the dead of the night; cats purring... i could go on. but i absolutely detest high pitched noises that bore into my brain leaving them jarred!

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?

when you cant help someone in need.
when you can't say what you really want to for the sake of politeness
seeing someone helpless, and feeling helpless about it.
seeing an animal injured or suffering (animals. not reptiles. i hate reptiles.)
losing faith in justice.
being betrayed by those who were trusted
loss.

8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?

it can't be morning already!

9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?

kfc! kfc! kfc! kfc! i can't believe the fact that i haven't been there in like ages damn my broken foot!

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?

i refuse to admit that i think of it!

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?

launch my magazine asap! build a shelter for street animals; take my parents to an exotic holiday; buy varun the car he has been dreaming about for ages now.

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?“

i don't know how to drive.

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?

yes. my "son", tar-tar! but shhh..he doesn't know he's a stuffed animal! and yes, both varun and i are complete retards!

14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?

beautiful.

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?

i had a fuschia ladybird when i was a kid... it got stolen a few months back. :(

16. FAVORITE DRINK?

coffee; chocolate flavoured milk; pepsi; bhaang; bloody mary; dry martini; red wine; pinacolada; vodka with cola...

17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD .....

walk down each and every street in kolkata

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?

no! and i never will.

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?

i will never again colour my hair now that i realize the damage i've already caused. but i used to have blue streakes at one point of time.

20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.

kolkata, pune, mumbai.

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?

soccer; horse races; figure/ice skating; and extreme sports.

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU.

lovely photographs on her blog :)

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?

a looot of junk and if you're lucky, you might need to deal with cat poop!

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?

yes. no matter how many times i am reborn, i would like to be myself, with the same set of parents, grandparents and friends. though the people i shall grow to dislike every life, could be reborn as flobberworms or unicellular micro organisms.

25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?

night owl. but can wake up in the morning if i want to.

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?

sunny side up.

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?

my bed, the balconies...

28. FAVORITE PIE?

mud pie! yum! yum! yum! and apple pies only when i make them!


29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?

butterscotch from the old school genre and i have a lot of favourites as far as the bloody expensive gelatos areconsidered!

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?
i don't know. i really don't!


ps- and as the new tag queen of the blog land, i tag everyone i say i have tagged! so check you comments!! :P

a-z

so, i read the realm of luminosity, and am prey to yet another blog. sitting at home, battling sheer boredom, it did seem rather natural that i do this...
and then i decided to write, of random things, from a to z



a:
is for alan parsons, audio engineer for the likes of sir paul mccartney and pink floyd , who later gave the world brilliant sounds as he gave life to the alan parsons project
also for animals: one of my very favourite floyd albums



b
is for byomkesh bakshi, my favouritest detective of all time!
also for bula di. so
don't be silly, cover your willy
don't be a prick, cover your dick
and i could go on...



c
is for cartman, eric cartman, absolute sweetheart! if you don't agree then, "screw you guys, i'm goin home!"
also for cats, chocolate, cigarettes, condoms and chillum. all necessary evils that i have lost my heart to.



d
is for dollops of chocolate sauce on ice cream. sinful...aah!
also for dumbfucks: successfully summarizes most of the world and people we know!



e
is for
eternal sunshine of the spotless mind. "...you stop listening to what is true, and what is true is constantly changing." teaches lovers a lot. and for me, brings back memories, good, bad and even ugly.



f
is for fuck
implement it in any way you like,
verbally or otherwise! :D
also for fairy tales. i still adore. and believe that they do come true!



g
is for god. i try believeing in.
gore, as portrayed in saw I, saw II, sawII and sawIV (very enjoyable. all must try)
and godot, those tired of waiting, i don't blame!


h
is for hump.
camels have humps!
what were you thinking about!? pervert.
also for hitman. agent 47. sexy bald man, in black suit, with a white shirt and red tie. toting guns and killing with ease. the game is nothing short of addictive and the movie sucked!



i
is for i, shounak! nothing, i repeat nothing else can take this slot!



j
is for joker, enemy of batman. played by heath ledger, in the dark knight returns. who now, very unfortunately is no more (and it makes me wonder whether or not i have necrophiliac tendencies!)
also for juno. really sweet movie, touched me, in the right way.



k
is for
kissies. they can be loud, soft, wet, slurpy, intended, unintended, welcome, unwelcome... you get them in all flavours!



l
is for
lazy, lazing around, laziness, feeling lazy, lyaad khaoa... aren't we all fond of it?



m
is for mangal singh,
for those who appreciate good reefers, they shall know from where to score! my smart input: the best in kolkata and friendly too!



n
is for narcissism
me, the epitome.



o
is for obelix. no words to express how much i love this rotund gaul and his lill tree lovinh dog! sighhhh!
also for orkut, the larger than life networking site with plenty of people who wanna make and do friendship.



p
is for porn.
everybody watches it. accept it or not, no-one will turn off the comp screen when given a chance to watch! and arguements about this, i shall not accept!



q
is for quack quack!
ducks have feelings too!
and quentin tarantino. the man who gave to the world pulp fiction, reservoir dogs, kill bill, kill bill II.


r
is for roger waters
THE man. brilliant lyricist. brilliant bassist. brilliantly sexy now that he's old!




s
is for south park. nowhere else will you find such ridiculous fun being made of celebrities! they haven't felt the slightest remorse in calling paris hilton a "stupid spoilt whore", claiming that hilary clinton's vagina hasn't been in use for the past 30 years, showing how facially deconstructed michael jackson is or even openly proclaiming how talentless ben affleck is! plus there are your regular spoofs, on 300, the da vinci code, red hawk down... you have to see it to believe its brilliance!
s is also for superman, my favourite superhero!
also for star wars, i worship george lucas for such a creation!



t
is for trainspotting. i shall restrain myself from going into lengthy details! apart from the fact that its one of my favourite movies!



u
is for
ummmmmmmm........



v
is for varun!!!
what better could i have come up with!? most disgusting creature i have ever come across and the most imperfect man i could fall so hopelessly in love with!



w
is for weed: connecting people in a "joint" effort!
also for wankers
there are so many all over! how can you miss them!?



x
is for xylophone! even alphabet books don't know any new words with x till now! :P
and x-men, the cool mutants, as opposed to magneto's team, the bad ass mutants!



y
is for yo! the most wannabe expression the world could come up with!



z
is for zoo.
last visited january 17, 2008. brought back lots of great memories and both varun n i escaped successfully without being locked up!


i tag everyone who lays eyes on this post!
there is no escape!

gora

i first saw him when i was four years old. as the story goes, i was running around in front of the garage, chasing the ducks and chickens our caretaker, shakeela, prided herself in having... after a fall and a bleeding knee, gora was beckoned by a very harassed shanti di to quieten my wails. and that was the beginning of the story.

i don't suppose he was much bigger than me, his large eyes looking at me curiously, his his shriveled up nose, the ridiculously colourful shirt all convinced me to love him... with all my heart and soul, and of course, his flees! he was the most beautiful monkey i had ever set my eyes on, and since that afternoon, gora, much to the annoyance of the very spoilt cat we had, became a regular visitor at the biswas home, bringing with himself bits of twigs, little stones and once even a marble as he came came, very punctually and made himself busy entertaining me. so

enthralled was i by his charms that i wasted no time in bullying my parents into buying him and his mate rakhi more gaudy clothes. and truthfully, so fond was i of that monkey that the presence of an older and unfriendly rakhi did not please me. but, i "tolerated" her none the less, playing with them to the point of torture where i would make gora sit in my doll's house and drink out of the tiny cups. and of course, spilling was not allowed!
then, one fine day, school happened. suddenly flung into a whole new world with rugrats like me,

i was captivated. so enthusiastic i was about school and my friends who would sing, dance and talk with me that gora faded to some dank dark corner of my mind. gradually, his visits were welcome only on bored afternoons, during summer, when the mind of a five year old had nothing to occupy her and then, with promotions and the development of newer interests and hobbies, the visits stopped.

sometimes, as i would walk with my father towards the park circus maidan, i would notice biju bhaiyya (gora's owner) sitting outside his little shack, smoking a bidi, then maybe, i would remember gora and stop by to pet him, but then maybe i wouldn't.

my fascination with gora returned a few years ago. upon returning from mumbai, one very hot
afternoon, biju bhaiiya stopped by to converse with my grandmother, and much to my surprise, gora was missing! though i feared the worst, gora was very much alive, but not very well. some kids from the mullick bazaar basti had stoned him down, "just for fun". thus almost 14 years after our torrid friendship, i realized my soft spot for gora and between college and work, i always managed to squeeze time out to call for biju bhaiiya and enquire about gora, if need be, even pay for medicines he needed as he lay in bed, ailing.

if i was to believe biju bhaiiya, gora had just crossed his 15th year on the face of the earth, and was living past a monkey's average lifespan! to spare myself the arguements, i accepted gora, now a wizened lill thing, still dressed brightly, for all he was worth and the fleas.
i never had courage enough to adopt him and make him a proper part of the family, like i never had courage to deal with the fact that gora, during his last few years was suffering form acute diabetes, couldn't deal with the fact that much of the life that was in him was gradually draining out as he slowly lost control of his bladder...

perhaps, biju bhaiiya realised the trauma i was facing each day as they both stopped by to show me prescriptions and chit chat for a while. perhaps, he hoped to find a better cure for gora, perhaps, he just wanted to go home... whatever the reason might be, one day, biju bhaiiya announced that he was leaving for bihar with gora.apparantly, he had land issues to deal with. and that was the end of the story...

yesterday, as i was wasting time in the afternoon, trying to prevent myself from dying out of boredom, a familiar call for audience froze me. hobbling out to the balcony as fast as i could with a broken foot, i was yet aging greeted with biju bhaiyya's bearded grin.
"kya memsaab, khela dekhbe na?" he asked in heavily accented bangla, and i felt my heart break into a million pieces as he pointed to two tiny monkeys on his shouders, dressed identically in gaudy colouring and i knew i would never see gora again...

coffee, anyone?

Been ages since I last allowed my fingers to fly unabashedly over the keyboard without worrying much about its outcome without worrying much about grades or a professor’s sarcastic comments or even writer’s block… its been ages since I let go of myself, felt uninhibited and enjoyed a moment without delving deep into the mechanics behind the veneer that lit up my face n the form of a smile. Letting go of logic, renouncing worldly acceptance and unchained by hazy paraphernalia, I realize the importance of dreaming… once again. At the risk of sounding horribly clichéd, I repeat, like many other lost souls of the world, “where did I lose track?” and strangely, I don’t need to know the answer.

It’s the beginning of a whole new year (okay fine, a few months into it…) … new heartbreaks, new misunderstandings, new ego clashes, new bouts of depression… wonder why I didn’t bother myself with a set of resolutions this year… Perhaps, it is a sign of my “new found” maturity. A sense of uneasy impulse that urged me to quit my extremely unsatisfying job, that urged me to forget to play by the book and acknowledge the man I love, that urged me to realize that there is little to life beyond happiness… How on earth can one realize the beauty of pain (and the overrated songs) if one feels little beyond it? How can one recognize the importance of hatred, hurt and deceit if the mind is clouded by it, without allowing much more to creep in? How can one live a dreary existence regularly trying to convince oneself more than others how “fucked up” they are or how much pain plagues their heart and mind all the time?!

My advice to these unfortunate souls remain singularly rude… “Wake up and smell the coffee! There really ain’t anybody out there who care enough to be influenced by all the negative karma you are exuding! It’s time you realized that you actually aren’t fucked up. Think of little Afghans living in cities that turn into war playfields everyday. Think of Ethiopian mothers who live each day to see their children grow up to be embraced by darkness, more importantly, think of America… they have Bush for a leader… and yet, you think you’re fucked up!

Closer home, think of that little kid who runs up to you every time your cab’s stuck in a jam. Think of the poor wounded dog lying untended to on the road, think of Tollywood… years into senility and there have been no signs from Prosenjit that indicate retirement! And yet, you think you are fucked up!!

In the mirror, see yourself getting wasted every day of the week, (who cares for weekends, happy hours, parties, anyway?!) Unlimited sex, drugs and rock and roll! See yourself act the teenage rebel, even though you are an ungainly twenty something! See your ideas, ideologies and brains gather dust as you tell the world, “I’m takin’ it slow, if it has to happen, I’m ready, if it doesn’t happen, I won’t be hurt!”… And see yourself hurt others, over and over and over again… the way you have been hurt… and you still think you have been fucked over and are fucked up!!

Indeed, you are… so fucked up that you don’t realize that to most problems there are solutions, be it tampons or remotes or headphones or free sms!! You are so fucked up that you should face a fate similar to Himesh, a flaming, speeding cannonball… and if you still think the world is unjust and nothing can redeem you from your ‘pain, suffering, trauma and confusion’… then hell, neither you, nor your problems are worth a dime. Walk around the street and look about, you will realize how irrelevant and unreal they actually are!”

I rest my case! Sleep tight and dream sweet!

the past, the present and the times to come...

Life Ten years ago:
unruly, included breaking windows, climbing trees, throwing tantrums about everything and nothing, climbing out of school windows to escape class (and i fondly remember amrita biswas, my partner in crime)...
life was brilliant, i didn't know what stress was, didn't know what it felt like to be cheated, lonely, depressed, doped...
friends were innumerable, each of us ignorant about the ideas of back stabbing, bitching, hating and making lives miserable. were devoid of any pretensions, ego hassles, lies...et all
though i don't remember much, i know it was way better then...




Life Five years ago.
was playing basketball... had suffer a heartbreak and was unwilling to trust anyone. spent time immersed in books, reading, writing, trying to be some1 different... don't think that worked out much.
came across a small bunch of very firm friends...still love most of them now... for all that they have done for me, for all the times they have been patient and all the times they have cared!!
i completely erased the entire concept of homework form my mind and made my friends do it for me.
wrote for the ttis (the blessed telegraph is schools that is), proved myself to be brilliant tabloid reporter, played hard and felt blessed with life, inclusive of bulemia and all!



Life Tomorrow.
hope that my broken foot heals soon, will gorge on the remaining bit of ice-cream in the fridge, flip lifelessly through a coupla books.
watch a few movies, spend hours stare listlessy at the computer screen.... very mundane...




Five locations I would love to run away to.
1. delhi-straight into varun's arms
2. some beautiful moonlit beach
3. neverland
4. a galaxy far far away (for the sake of star wars)
5. dellhi again....



Five bad habits I have.
1. trustin ppl way too much
2. weed
3. biting my nails
4. switching off during conversations that don't matter to me\
no more i can think of...



Five things I will never wear.
1. fur (i completely agree with sohini on this one)
2. my hair with a fringe
3. kurtis and skirts
4. mehendi on my back (yuck)
5. fake gold jewellery



Five biggest joys at this moment.
1. i'm talkin to varun
2. i'm at home getting to order EVERYONE around thanks to my broken foot
3. i'm getting to spend A LOT of time reading...all that i want to!
4. everybody believes in my tarot reading abilities! (everybody who has been brave enough to trust me with the cards that is!)
5. very good weed... very, very good weed!



Something to achieve by next year.
go on a trip with varun somewhere, start learning a new language, learn how ro play my guitar, cut down on, if not quit smoking... quite a few things actually!





Something that impacted me last year.
uh.... did something?


What will I miss about 2007.
nothing at all! it wasn't a brilliant year for me!




Five things I want to do before I die.
1.launch my own magazine
2. backpack all over india filming a funny documentary
3. build an animal shelter
4. learn to cook real exotic dishes and cook varun a 7 course exotic meal
5. watch roger waters perform live



I tag anyone who is as useless as I am right now!!!

if i were...

yet another tag, yet more answers... it's actually fun.


If I were a beginning, I would be: the beginning of a new era

If I were a month, I would be: july.

If I were a day of the week, I would be: tuesday.

If I were a time of day, I would be: midnight

If I were a planet, I would be: jupiter

If I were a season, I would be: monsoon

If I were a sea animal, I would be: mermaid (they exist!!)

If I were a direction, I would be: where your heart leads to

If I were a piece of furniture, I would be: a bookshelf...

If I were a sin, I would be: lust

If I were a liquid, I would be: mercury

If I were a fraud/scare, I would be: a secret

If I were a gem, I would be: ruby

If I were a tree, I would be: well cared for.

If I were a tool, I would be: as pencil

If I were a flower/plant, I would be: an orchid

If I were a kind of weather, I would be: incessant rain

If I were a musical instrument, I would be: a guitar

If I were an animal, I would be: a cat! wasn’t that one obvious?

If I were an emotion, I would be: confusion

If I were a vegetable, I would be: potato

If I were a sound, I would be: a Spanish guitar being played expertly

If I were an element, I would be: water

If I were a car, I would be: an suv

If I were a song, I would be: shine on you crazy diamond

If I were a food, I would be: chocolate mousse

If I were a place, I would be: the sea-side

If I were a material, I would be: denim

If I were a taste, I would be: chocolatey bitter sweet

If I were a scent, I would be: wet earth.

If I were a religion, I would be: love

If I were a sentence, I would be: the lunatic is on the grass

If I were a body part, I would be: lips

If I were a facial expression, I would be: a smile

If I were a subject in college, I would be: creative writing

If I were a shape, I would be: abstract

If I were a quantity, I would be: 8

If I were a colour, I would be: blue

If I were a thing, I would be: paint

If I were a landmass, I would be: an island

If I were a book, I would be: the little prince

If I were a monument, I would be: a lighthouse

If I were an artist, I would be: andy warhol

If I were a collection of poems, I would be: the captain’s verses

If I were a landscape, I would be: a beautiful one

If I were a watch, I would be: ticking away, counting the moments that make up a dull day

If I were God, I would be: bastet
If I were a vowel, I would be: I

If I were a consonant, I would be: s

If I were a formula, I would be: formula 1!!!

If I were a Science, I would be: biomedical science

If I were a theory, I would be: of relativity

If I were a famous person, I would be: roger waters

If I were an electronic equipment, I would be: an mp3 player

If I were sport, I would be: basketball

If I were a movie, I would be: star wars

If I were a cartoon, I would be: oracle

If I were an explorer, I would be: sun-tanned and at peace

If I were a scientist, I would be: louis pasteur

If I were a relation, I would be: honest

If I were a river, I would be: a fast flowing mountain stream

If I were intoxication, I would be: bhaang

If I were alone, I would be: comfort

If I were a question, then I would be: what?

If I were a hobby, I would be: walking unknown streets.

If I were a habit, I would be: chewing gum

If I were in an atom, I would be: an explosion

If I were an end, I would be: happy

If I were you, I would be: myself

moment of madness, have sacrificed my "incredibly beautiful" tresses....

the fair and the lovely

The entire “gora chamra” fixation is getting to me! With the pujas barely a month away, its amazing how nearly all my family have realized my “awful tan” and are trying their unusual best to get rid of mind, apart from the scores of fairness creams available in the market, my skin has gone through lengthy battles with multani mitti, chandan, besan, lemon, tomatoes and the like. Apart from being really, unhappy and irritated, I’m amazed to learn about everyone’s knowledge on getting “fairer” skin! Talk about prejudice!

To make things worse, last Sunday’s matrimonial column was far from its usual amusing self! Horrifyingly, every male in the country, starting from age 22 till maybe their last few days on earth, seem to be on a “heroic” quest – finding themselves the perfect Indian bride! Irrelevant of other qualities, the poor creature most definitely needs to be fair! For all one knows, the poor wretched NRI just might find himself stuck in an enclosure with his “perfect bride”, who not very surprisingly resembles a lump of lard and has brains perhaps lesser than a pea’s!

What exactly is the country coming to? What happened to respecting intelligence, charm and independence? Why do all Indian women have to feel so degraded for a patriarchal society’s perverse fetish? Why can’t women in search of a groom demand for some “fair and handsome” man, who’ll be “well built, educated and homely”?

In an act of rebellion, I have decided that t he next time someone comes close to commenting about my skin tone, I shall remind them of their age, wrinkles, et al! I shall remind them of the times their fair daughters came home crying cuz they were called “really stupid’ in school and of course, I shall gift their not so fair sons tubes of fairness creams!

And as for me, I’m perfectly sane… dark, short, ugly doesn’t really make a huge difference in my life! I’m happy the way I am… thank you! I’m an intelligent, successful woman and I don’t give a flying rat’s ass about achieving the “rare Indian beauty”! And everyone else, fair or dark, considering that you have a single brain cell, shouldn’t care either! Trust me, beauty can never be skin deep!!!

Pip! Pip!

trip...

Grim infatuation huddles in the remote alcove of my brain…I can’t
really feel much now, its more mechanical than human at this
stage…ecstatic and on a “trip” through psychedelic distortions, I am
incredibly unaware…of the thoughts that are flowing into my mind with
such ease…or maybe I am…its scary to a certain extent; how can my mind
be so active, yet so hazed…

Unnatural paraphernalia of pent up emotions,
Exploding with a million unrelenting thoughts,
Perverse melancholic memories creep up
Forming a mesh of hazy moments woven together,
Colours that blind the solace of the mind,
Basking in the warmth of confusion,
Of a mind fogged with restless thoughts.

Twisted images keep forming in the nooks and crannies of my mind; recesses I didn’t
know existed… and so far away, that these images are indefinable blurs
woven intricately with light—their voices muffled by the layers of
emotions that have been piling up for years. Not very useful these
emotions are, just human…

“Sunlight bright upon my pillow
Lighter than an eiderdown
Wishing that the weeping-willow
Winds its branches round”

… And I dream…




…loneliness…
is a mere matter of perspective. Some shy away from the desolate
darkness of solitude as thoughts echo and reverberate in the hollow
mind-- giving rise to pithy doubts, unskilled lies and moronic
insecurities…
I bask in the warmth of this darkness, confusing it
maybe but comforting in its own archaic manner. Thrilling, as new
thoughts drift into a comfortable void of unnatural silence… without
much to contradict them, apart from voices receding from the realms of
logic into ones that promise visions of kaleidoscope eyes and tangerine
trees…

“And what have you got at the end of the day ?
What have you got to take away ?
A bottle of whisky and a new set of lies
Blinds on the window and a pain behind the eyes”

Relationships
unfurl, blossoming into objects of mutual desire as stolen kisses
remain… stolen. How precious these kisses are—rare and stolen, unlike
the legitimised equipment that makes the fourteenth day of February an
annual holiday for card shops… sometimes nameless entities appeal to
the senses, far more than any other ever can… steps taken into the
darkness and you long to retrace them, and long, to return to the
warmth of the faces familiar, the touches felt and the emotions known.
You long to regain senses lost and identify faces forgotten as the
charm of the unknown devours sanity, gradually… taking care that
realisations do no occur… until of course, it is too late. And too late
it is as you reach out for that once familiar face, and realize that
submerged in guilt, your consciencedoesn’t allow you to grab the out stretched hand as you sink in the ruffled intricacies of the ego game, that keeps occuring and re-occuring, shifting from one side to the other till you realize that you are hopelessly lost… in a fascinating mindgame called love.

I’m in love… have been this way for the past three years. Took me a while
to realize it (three years is an incredibly long period of time…); but
now that I have, steps can’t be re-traced and wounds can’t be healed…
For the first time in my life, I wish to take back all the sarcatic
words that have flown out of my lips. I wish to erase all the events
that in the remotest of all possibilities could have hurt… either of
us. I long to talk, but the masks and walls obstruct conversation. I
long to explain myself… but once upon a time patience was on my side;
and acceptance did follow. But I misjudged and misutilized both. Maybe I
should give “it” time… maybe “it” should give me time… maybe wounds
will be forgotten… maybe they will be healed… maybe I should apologize,
but strangely sorry really does seem to be the hardest, funniest and
the most inappropriate word to be uttered now… and I realize…

back to blog!

The New Year has proved to be rather painful… both to my fingers and to my rapidly thinning wallet! With the innumerable messages constantly clogging up my inbox and the compulsion to reply to no.s other than the ones belonging to my beloved Tata Indicom clan is actually testing my patience… more than a month into 2007 and I still receive “HAPPY NEW YEAR” messages and sadly, am expected to reply! And the reply triggers off more questions to which I feel even more compelled to reply and a vicious circle starts, quite ignoring the other existing circles of the very same nature! And before I can even realize, it’s the awful time of the year again… when almost everyone just HAS to talk about love in the air…bleaargh! And sadly… it just means more irritating messages… and replies and corn n much related mush!

Taking a trip down memory lane, the Christmas week was… well... fun! No other word to describe lill trips to Olypub, jostling to get Christmas decors at New Market, Christmas Market, tram rides, steaming hot momos, my new red lighter (which I promptly lost...) and quite a few packs of Gold Flake Kings, being broke, yet shopping and spendingLOADSA “quality” time with two people I really love! It was fun to realize that us bongoshontans do celebrate all festivals with the same kind of frenzied enthusiasm! Be it Durga Pujo or Eid or Christmas or anything else… its all being celebrated, and surprisingly, by everyone in Kolkata!

Amidst all the alcohol and fooling around, I surprised myself… terribly! Not only did I give up my glass of Shark Tooth to go to St Paul’s cathedral, I actually sat through most of the mass and read the prayers and actually prayed… back home, I refrained from touching alcohol and actually spent more “quality time” with friends and their kid
brothers!!!!
On Christmas, I scarily did feel rather angelic!! And then… I decided to surprise myself further! I visited Kalighat! Told Sohini I have a mannat to get her to come along… but really, I just wanted to pray… for a lot of people, rather than for things. Don’t think my prayers made much of a difference. God, I believe has realized my descent down the silvery steps of hell to even pay attention. I guess he thinks I’m beyond redemption… and sadly, I believe the same…

And later I drank, and drank again and was happy and was sad and sang, and danced and got happier!!! And realized that some people are incredibly entertaining when drunk… for example,Kamalika Dutta… who really believes that she is “physically fit” cuz she “likes to move it” when drunk! As for me…I remember, but I prefer not commenting! Confessions made should not be repeated and re-repeated
especially on blogs! The discoveries made and feelings realized calls for more alcohol! But then again, considering the natural high I’m on…who needs alcohol? With the very first rains of Kolkata arriving already in February, the natural high continued… and I “discovered” more… for starters… monsters do exist! Be it at the lake… or our very own “jheel” at J.U. or the Sundarbans!! They indeed exist and they need to be pampered by cigarette butts and dry leaves and twigs and stones!
And that J.U. after dark is a rather attractive place and that theOlypub waiters whack itsy bitsy pegs for themselves while serving their valuable customers… and that 5th floors are undeniably attractive…

As 2007 approached, I had resolved to update me blog rather regularly… and it was yet another resolution down the drain… till today that is! The entry might be haphazard and incomprehensible but it’s a start… it calls for a drink… and it calls for smiles... silly stupid ones that I have hated all my life… J the types that make you blush, giggle and feel brilliant about everything around! Perhaps its all the alcohol that has accumulated over the past week and a half… perhaps its more…