As The Sun Completes One More Round

To the year that was
To the year that would be
Cheers :)

If You Care Enough For The Living

Someone said 

How exactly are YOU, "Yes YOU" , going to STOP Rape??

What will be your exact contribution after going out on a candle light march??

Will you next time slap you friend who stares at a lady and says "WOW!! WHAT AN ASS"

Nope. You shall laugh it Off.

Why? Because he is your friend, and he was "Joking"

Well people have either been talking about Rape or about Rape (Till yesterday of course since today they already have Earthquake and the sudden Winter to talk about). And as Bilu rightly pointed out that nobody cared much about a recent rape case at a village of West Bengal but protesting for the media hyped one and Abhro said that the candles are not good enough to melt the hearts of the rapists, Olivia shouted saying that there is no point in walking a mile when we cannot even stand tall against the college misdoing.

I initially was extremely annoyed by the flood of copied facebook status messages and the black dot display pictures of those who virtual cared, virtually protested and virtually fought. 

I was shaken by the incident, so was most of the people. But people overdid everything. So did the Government.

The Saturday afternoon plan got cancelled and I immediately asked everyone if they were free. People agreed and we were there to add on to the crowd. To be very honest, I was there to see how it really feels, if things really are the way they show in movies. That is quite a shameful thing though. 

What I saw.

People clicked.

People got clicked.

People held candles and posed happily for facebook.

Sir and Sujoy rolled on laughing at a poster that said "Don't get raped"

I got irritated by a gang of students stopping at every possible place for group photos with candles and banners.

It is a shame that there is no stern rule against rape.

It is a shame that people who cares actually cares just for the camera.

But yes, there were people who actually shouted for justice.

There were people with moist eyes.

There were people who stood up against all the back tides.

There were people who were there without public announcements of their presence.

There was an entire generation together. 

I saw Unity. 

Whatever be the reason, people were there.
Together.

For a Cause (and WITH A CAUSE)

And as far as I am concerned, I am just happy that I was a part of it.

And the beautiful Damini or whatever your name is dearest, 

God Bless!

Today I saw this picture. 

And I bowed.

Virtually.

Again.

Just like You.

Shamefully Yours

Photographs- courtesy: Aniket Khatua

"I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. Still the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend."

Love

কি হবে আগামীকাল?
আমি বাঁচতে চাই
এবং...

Every Song I Sing I'll Sing For You When I Come Back Bring My Wedding Ring!

And off I go =]

And I always say.

Remember Me.

Just In Case You Know =P

And Pocha asks
"You Wannabe Wat"

I say

Very Lucky!

A: But NO ONE talks to me like that

A: Get used to it.

Maa left for Chhattisgarh. The house looks and sounds and is empty.

The exams! Let's not talk about them. If you are about to say the same old things that I am sick and tired of hearing, please excuse me. You don't understand.

I wish Hirak had not mentioned the non eligibility to appear for placements once I flunk in Discrete.

The less talking and less laughing caused by the little bundle of pain at the end of my lower lip is not treating me well.

Things seem wonderfully distorted.

I do realize that I have started to NAG a LOT of late.

Ignore this if you may.

P.S I do not like empty houses. I do not like sleeping alone the day before exam. I admit the embarrassing truth that I need to sleep beside Maa so that I feel protected from the exam monster the day before.

P.P.S I so wish to sit for placements like everybody else around this time next time. I want to be lucky this time. One last time.

R.I.P.

9th of December, three days from today the city will go all vocal and moist about the AMRI fire mishap and that would mark the 365 and 1 day after I last prayed for Nana .

I have forever had a very sweet and diplomatic face towards most of the people around, at times, even against the strong urge to hit them right on their face (that I accept is a very bad quality), but Nana was someone I have grown up shouting at, and mostly, at non-funny situations. My fondest memories of childhood would include Nana taking me to the park every evening and buying me bhutta. The Durga Puja-s and “Roth”s were always passed getting all the pampering  from people all over the para with the same old “arre o toh tamal er bhaiji”. Everyone knew him. From purono para to ei para, people just know him as he would randomly help people with their luggage and shopping bags. Nana would take immense pride over getting to do small favors for me, especially when Maa or anyone else of the more normal ones of the family asked for it. The mentioning of the normal is absolutely intentional because the rest of the world secretly or openly thought that he was not one.

I have grown up watching him getting advised, being suggested, on what he will wear, on what he would eat, where he would go, when he would come, whom he should marry, how he should save and what not. Back in the days of old Amma-bari, I remember the alarm clock ringing at our room every morning when Baba would wake up to wake him up at 6 for his morning shift at the not-so-prestigious-office because every other place required ‘normal’ people. At around 7, Kaku would go and check of he actually went to work or bunked it like most of the days. When he came back at 12, I felt extremely happy to get back someone I could bully till Maa returns at night. Thus went my childhood with Nana picking me up even when there was a Maashi to do the needful every day after school from bus stand to home.

He would always say “taka chai taka?” and then bring out the only 25paise coin with a sad face and I would say “thak ota. Pore ota diye ekdin Phuchka khabo”. I always thought Nana was “Gorib” and therefore everyone helped him, because I always saw people paying for all of the things that he needed and hence, even the pochish poisha that he offered, in those days of childhood when I though 5takar coin< two 1 rupee coins, made me feel, made him sad. At the lunch hours, he would finish off his fish first before even touching the rice and then would have the rest of the normal members of the family offer their half to him. He loved food. He loved love. And he was loved.

I have grown up regretting the way I treated him. I always took him for granted. Planted a slap every now and then if he denied acting according my wish. I had been at my rude best for the first six years of my life when I treated him like a piece of shit, like someone who is absolutely not important, and most importantly, like someone who should be AT MY SERVICE, always. I can never forgive myself for all those summer nights and winter afternoons when I too was a part of the fun-making-gang non- advertently of his various foolish incidents. He on the other hand, would always be as sweet as one can be, to me. He did not let Maa scold me EVER. In case I have not mentioned, Nana was my Kaku.

He WAS, because he died on the 8th of December 2011 at AMRI, the day before the hospital was burnt down, almost. What happened to him and Why is a long story altogether but HE made winter all the more sad for me. It was today, just a year ago when Maa drove me all the way to AMRI at 1:50 am, the whole family waiting for news needed food and blanket. I must mention here that I avoid going to hospitals and they cause nausea. That night which followed my Physics semester exam was spent at the hospital because no one moved an inch towards home. Everyone cried, everyone prayed and I have never seen a sadder scene.
I have never seen my family so worried about money till those days last year when they went up to the extent of taking gold loans as an option after AMRI attached some XYZ machine to his body that charged 10lakhs per hour. Yes, per HOUR. There had been only hospital talks and money calculations and family fund discussions and tears since November last year and finally, 8th of December 2011, 5am in the morning, the news was delivered. The semester exam was due after some time that day itself. And thus, I could him see him last.

I miss him more than I can imagine missing someone. I miss him more than I miss Mejo-pishi who died a similar death. The sight of his son will give you a thousand deaths when he would blankly stare at Nana’s photo. Nana loved me more than he loved Habul; I knew this a matter of fact! There is a tinge of regret when I remember him today for all the times I did not value him. I wish I had kept one of those 25paise coins that he offered throughout the childhood days. The last time he told me, “Dekhish Guria toke biyete ami ki dei!” and I laughed. That was bhai fota last year. That also was the last time I saw him. I went to hospitals after that though but never ended up visiting his bed for my own selfish reasons.

But. Today. The same night.  ALMOST the same night. And. On most of the nights. I can at times hear him say.
TAKA CHAI TAKA?

G Em D

:/ and more of :/ and yet some more of :/ AND a LOT of :(

1. People Who Take Maths "Short Test"

2. Algorithm Experts

3. One Night-One Subject Specialists

4. Eco Toppers

5. Midnight Microprocessor Question Senders

6. Afternoon Nap Skippers

DISAPPEAR

And

WBUT,

Die PLEASE

Ah Fairytales!

While she listened to the song that she had always wanted someone to sing for her someday, there was someone she once knew at the doorstep, on his knees.

“I am here Rapunzel, just as I had promised”

“But it’s too late my love, the years have swept past and I am not the same.”

“My love for you has not changed my princess, across the barriers of time and tide, you remain to be, my muse.”

“And muse is beautiful only in your dreams whereas the thorns have overgrown and overshadowed the flower that they once were a part of.”

“I do not understand my dear, all that I know is that I love you. I am all yours and you are all mine. Come what may.”

“Come what may?”

“Come what may.”

And then she removed the veil and the hat and immediately the prince vanished like the million others.

Out There Where the Light Ends

Toodles

Taking some time off till the Omnipotent decides to shed some light again.

So, it is November at Kolkata (and everywhere else of course).
The time when the sun at noon is sultry but pleasant in the morning. When you wake up with a sore throat and slight headache for the incessantly revolving fan and since your laziness prevents you to pull the 'chador' on. The winter garments are not out yet the bed-sheet-replacing-blankets are many. The wait for 13th and Jab Tak Hain Jaan's release (no byaka mukh now) continues and so does the typical winter smell in the dry wind that has started to blow during the afternoon. The mothers go crazy on olive oil and body lotion. 'Komola Lebu' fills in the fruit basket and one gets the luxury of keeping the hair open at all times of the day without sweat (except for the soon-to-become-bald ones like me who have just a few of them left on the scalp).
Last good days before the shanghtik sheetkal (terrible winter) sets in post Kaali Pujo. Hibernation will soon start. How I hate winter :(
Till then, enjoy!

P.S. Did I mention sem :(

From "Koel toh puro chom chom Durga" by the random phuchkawala outside the doctor's chamber at Mahalaya to the endless plans, dressing up, meeting people after ages, anjalis, late late late, bhog, checking the kartiks of the crowd and what not! Pujo is almost over and off I go ghurte. And just in case I die, Remember Me =P
and somewhere I am not very happy about not being able to do the boi chhoyano this time although the sudden dark neighbourhood at ekadoshi after the timely and untimely brightness during pujo is depressing.
And while I go, I shall miss.

Neither the best of times nor the best of health

But

MAHALAYA works like Magic!

“Bura Jo Dekhan Main Chala
Bura Na Milya Koi
Jo Mann Khoja Aapna
Toh Mujhse Bura Na Koi”

There was once a time during the growing up years of blame games when I first heard this ‘doha’ from Maa and I need not mention that she explained the meaning too. I never, as a matter of fact NEVER read/ wrote Hindi except for the three exams at school every year. Maa always read out the stories that were there in the syllabus the day before exam and THUS I still have no idea of whether to use the “Badi e” or “Chhoti e” in whichever spelling.

 Having a Mamabari at Madhya Pradesh made me over confident about my Hindi skills, I never cared to read things myself and thus the spellings always pulled my marks down. (But to the person who thinks ‘pheeka’ is stale, I knew and still know MORE of Hindi :D )

So as I was saying, Mahalaya is almost here, Momma is on a super cleaning spree AGAIN! :@
From somewhere came out this book of “Kabir k Dohe” and I reread the only ‘doha’ that I know absolutely correctly.

“If you need someone to blame
Throw a rock in the air
You'll hit someone guilty ”

And if you just thought this post is about something concrete and leading to something even more concrete. Bleh :P

To Life... AMEN!

"Are you sure Tim?"
"God Yes! Go see for yourself if you don't believe me."
"But Andrew knows that it is the only thing that I refuse to share."
"Why don't you go charge your best friend who is reading your diary then?"
"That would be painfully embarrassing."


Date: August 2011:
ANDREW IS SUCH A PRETENDER. I WISH I COULD CUT ALL THREADS SOMEHOW.


"Is that what my best friend thinks of me? Should I charge him for pretending to understand me all over t these years...
*deep sigh*
That would be painfully embarrassing."

"The bitterest tears shed over graves are for the words left unsaid and deeds left undone"- Harriet Beecher Stowe

And Hence The Result

Come October TODAY

SIGH

And yes, I’ll admit, I am jealous.

If You Are Sad and You Know It Go Shopping!

Yes! The ultimate mood enhancer it is.

People all around are sad. Sad for reasons, sad for no reasons, but everyone is sad.

And so much of untimely sadness around made me down and thus made Maa take me out for shopping.
And after 48 hours I am VERY happy.

Yo Shopping!!!!
Go Shopping!!!!
Ping Ping Ping!!!

Someday I shall own a birir'r dokan behind the blue hills and have old monks coming to my dokan who will give me philosophical dose everyday. This has nothing to do with shopping. I am high on lord knows what. And I might also become a nun someday. But for now, Pujo is here.

If You Are Sad and You Know It Go Shopping!
YES!
Tried and Tested

=]

P.S. Ignore this post

"Yeh joke tha?"

"Tha toh?"

"I don't like jokes"

"I don't like you"

"Shut AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP"

PAAAAAAAAAAA PAP PARA

Much Love

Many years ago, there existed three villages. These three nearby villages were together joined and made into one big happy family. The founder who did the noble job today sleeps peacefully at the St. John’s church and the family today stands as the 322 year old City of Joy, our Kolkata. From Coffee House to CCD, from Borobajar to South City mall, every aspect gets their due respect. The ballon-walas continue to sell those big white dual balloons, the mela-s continue to have giant wheels, the lungis continue to get hitched during monsoons, 'bikele paray khela' continues to be a daily affair.

While the world divides itself into classes, Kolkata merely is divided into north and south, the people who call it “mujo” and the ones who call it “moja”. The football match every and then fuels the Ghoti-Bangal clash but these are the people who cheers with united voice for their “Dada” who plays against them! The city where no phuchkawala stands idle no matter what rates they charge (and I am specifically angry at the rising cost of phuchkas), the city where everything moves at their own leisurely pace, THE Kolkata!

The first monsoons drenches each soul and the “pujor aakash” instantly brings in the smile, the city never lets you down, it never lets you drown. Where the roadside vendor will jostle for that extra one rupee and still call you “boudi”, where every guy who moves around the town in ripped jeans will be seen wearing Kurta’s on ashtami. Christmas cakes and Eid Biriyanis are majorly common, so is the “amar chhele/meye toh ektuo porena, brain ta bhalo chhilo, ektu porle koto bhaloi korto”.

The city calls it “jiro”, the city calls it “myaa-saage”, the city calls you ‘maa’, the city is perfect. I remember spending the entire night at the Bilaspur station2 years ago for an 8hour late train where I listened to all Anjan Dutta songs and wondered how will ever live apart from the Kolkata’r aaakash and take admission elsewhere. How could I live without Maa on leave during exams? And then I decided Kolkata will have me for the next 4years again, at least.

The city of politics, of cheap misgivings, the unfortunate flings. Here every child plays the harmonium and every college goer plays the guitar. Rabindranath is family and weekend jilipis are MUST. The ilish machh replaces chicken and Durga Pujo is more special than birthdays. The malls stand tall so does the Bonedi bari-s. The city of contrasts together listens to Mahalaya at 4am in the bed. It has the best possible rosho-gollas and best possible shutki machh (yes I like it and nobody else does).   It has Maa and Me and You!

My City!
I love you for the yesterday I had,
The today I have,
And the tomorrow I wish to have with you, in you!

An amazing Saga of loss.

The forever best Kishore Kumar songs.

The amazing (nyaka though) characters.

AMAR PREM!

I have forever khili-fied Sir for being such a Bangla and English movie buff but the woman has no idea whatsoever about Sooryavansham and Mera Naam Joker and Anand and Khoobsurat and Satyam Shivam Sundaram and Kabhie Kabhie and what not.

A month ago Nandan celebrated the golden era of Uttam Kumar and the movie we decided to go for was “Nishi Poddo”. Neel pointed that this particular movie does not have any commercial print and the Amar Prem is its Hindi Version. To spoil the plan came the mass viral fever and we obviously could not go for the movie.

Now this is a rather embarrassing confession but I had not seen Amar Prem till today. The only movie that Sir pointed to me whenever I said she should rather die than live without watching Sholay EVER was this.

So while the nonsense college tomorrow demands me to wake up at 7:50, I watched THE movie till 4 and write this till 4:15 and after a long long time Amar Prem made me post.

P.S. Rajesh Khanna k ki bhalo dekhte.

P.P.S. Sharmila Tagore had such a lovely figure.

Ha Ha Ha =D

Two years ago, today I first took an auto then bus and a bus and an auto ride again to reach a place at one corner of the world.
Two years ago, today I first got ragged and met certain people who had my initial "eew" reaction but today are friends (almost).

Two years ago, today I started sulking about not getting through injiri at the 'barir pasher' college and hating Pailan for the mean college that it is.
TWO YEARS?

baapre :O

P.S.  two years down the line the college shall provide no chakri :/
Happy Half Engineering everyone (amio wannabe) :D

Photograph Courtesy: Aniket Khatua

Just when the flash shined,

The room reflected their white wide.

Forgetting the tiffs, the clashes, the fights,

A happy togetherness they simply lied.

Just when the flash shined,

The room forgot the tears they cried.

Captured the moments never desired

And uploaded to the world with pride.

Just when the flash shined,

The room pretended to have a great time.

Except for the child who denied

To say 'Cheese" and dry up his eyes.

Pushpa... I hate tears

R.I.P THE Rajesh Khanna

THIRTY MINUTES? 
Ah what?!
A teen getting molested for long thirty minutes, right in the middle of the road and nobody had anything to say?
Where have all the lessons of moral science and social upliftment gone?
Merely watching Satyamev Jayate with a heavy Sunday breakfast and forgetting it all and stepping out with the same disgusting self? WOW!

So its all over the net, all over the youtube and news channels and newspaper.
But my point is
How could the people just witness the crime and stay all quite?
And moreover, take videos and pictures but NOT utter a word?
Huh?! Huh what?!

http://www.dnaindia.com/india/report_assam-molestation-case-1-more-arrested-on-stripping-charges_1714411

And all the people (which includes me) who are all vocal over net about this, are you sure that you wouldn't have reacted the same way and kept mum, had you been there?
Why are we afraid? Who are we afraid of?

DISGRACE

Pujo Ashchhe!

#Ting Ting Titing!!! :D

Advantages of Going to a Not So Good College

Well the title probably hints towards another ‘The Grapes are Sour’-ish writeup. Well yes, it is. Ever since my WBJEE results came out, I have been sulking over my 42369 and the god forbidden college at one corner of the world. I sometimes have also regretted not going to Bhilai for B-Tech.  

A midst all these, I am getting the taste of the sour grapes during the training and meeting the high figh people and suddenly, the not so good college with not so good placement has started to seem like the place I exactly belong to. The advantages as I was saying, of not having the sour grapes are:

1.         Everyone around is as stupid. You can easily come up with the stupidest question and no one questions your intellect. No one gives you second look when you can’t understand how [] differs from (). Freedom!

2.         No one brags about themselves. Yes there is this direct and direct music niye barabari at my college where everyone plays the guitar and everyone is a metal head but people would rather die than boast about their coding capabilities or studies. You get to poke Subhayan at the eleventh hour and ask “Armstrong number ta ki” and have Abhro and Sujoy to text you the codes and programs during practicals. Dhinchak!

3.         You get to be the ‘andho mein kaana raja’ at times. And with everyone around more interested in football scores and latest discount in restaurants, nobody gives a heck about knowing the names of the subjects before study leave. This in turns brings in the satisfaction of ‘morle morbe but ekshathe morbo’. Bliss!

4.         You get to freelance! I specifically thank Bilu and Mou for this. This induces a very busy schedule where you spend nights writing and not coding. You also get to be mean and fight for money from bossdada. Fun!

5.         Everyone around is in love. You get prem korar treats every now and then. You also get the license of lifelong leg pulling and nobody would mind unlike the good students of good college who comes up with the meanest things to say. Ass!

6.         No one is proud of themselves. There is no race to reach there first. There is a strange togetherness in joblessness. Everyone shares the same sorrow of underperformance   so no one detests anyone or is jealous of each other. Everyone around is equally terrible and you won’t understand how comforting it is unless you experience it. Yo baebeh!

7.         You get to be a college student. Yes the school like rules to enter at 9:45 sharp is there but the wall and everyday implemented, updated and modified tricks of entering and leaving college keeps the adventure going. The ‘good’ students and ‘good’ colleges are making me sick with the punctualities and continuous staring at the devil who teaches us at training. They remind me of the XI and XII chemistry class and tuitions where I would stare at the watch every 5minutes and not understand a word. Terror!

8.         No one stays back once the class ends. But the other half of population going to bhalo college would question the teacher even after the bell rings and class ends. And the intellectual and intelligent questions will make you feel THIS small. Ke re bhai!

9.         Easy access to movies, music, games and gadgets. Nobody cares about the attributes of PHP or JavaScript. Yes  there are a few like Abhishek Shah, Sujal and Subhayan who eat drink and breathe computer but they are the people who help and motivate you with ‘read this’ and ‘look C is easy, it’s a dumb language’. They will never and I mean NEVER depress you with their knowledge. Thank You!

10.      You get to be the retarded person you are and even then, you get sooper people around like Sidd and Pocha and Abhro and Sujoy and Subhayan and Neel and Ayantika and Hirak and Mou and Bilu and Raja and Mou and Dola and Sayan and Ankan and Deepanjan (Sorry if I missed a few names) and rediscover Satabdi and Sir and Lol and Swarnava . And many many amazing people which includes classmates and teachers and common friends Love!

And thank you for reading this nonsense for so long!

I really wonder what had I done if I by chance I had been in the good colleges with good students. God has been kind enough to spare me the horror of continuous four years of depression of being amongst people who know it all. One month is more than enough to get a hint of it. Jo hota hain ache k liye hi hota hain.

The grapes are very sour

To love at all is to be vulnerable-C.S.Lewis

P.S. The title and the song has got nothing to do with each other
#Hijibiji jijijijiji

"You rarely win, but sometimes you do"

I wanted you to see what courage really is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. Its when you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what. You rarely win, but sometimes you do.
-To Kill A Mocking Bird


The idea of courage and freedom are taking multifarious tolls in my head.Is it courage that lets me sit at the C# classes everyday and face my inner demons or is it the lack of courage which does not let me quit the training that makes no sense (to me)? Leaving the good old topic of depression aside, I always thought freedom is an illusion.

The freedom of waking up whenever the heart desires, the freedom of having chocolate cake at 3am in the morning, the freedom of saying the most absurd things, all fall under the illusion of freedom, of the stereotyped invisible strings of rules.


 School, college, job, marriage, children- And she lived happily ever after.
And what if she wanted to be a waitress at the pizza hut for a few months? Or become a nun at the hills?
Life revolves around a set of strange rules and the twisted and self modified versions of freedom are mere illusions. 


The Courage to be Free is a far cry. It definitely is beyond my reach. 

Photograph Courtesy: Ritobrata Kundu

And if this blog sounds too gloomy,the effect is done by the 3hours class everyday which will last for 30long days. Everyday seems like the repetition of the other. I am extremely disturbed and disgusted at my shortcomings.
And if I survive this training and this summer, the most difficult one ever, for once, I'll be (shamelessly) proud of myself.
Amen.


P.S. I am losing all my hair. Boyesh hoye gelo!

"Na Maa Pure Silks are BAD. Ota kena cholbena bas"
And Maa did not buy the saree today and went for the blue off white saree that I absolutely loved.
For as long as I have noticed, Maa has this thing for pure silks and I absolutely detest them.
The same story repeats itself whenever Maa decides to shop with me.

The thing that I want to point out is the fact that being a Mommy aint easy, being a woman toh is all the more difficult. I don't think anyone anywhere else will let me wear half pant at home or let me sleep till 12 or prepare the special no sugar 2.5table spoon of horlicks and one mug of milk like Maa does every morning. Why would I even sacrifice this wonderful life of mine and get married and start this whole saga of sacrifices!? Why did Maa do the same?

I have always seen Maa sitting beside me while I sat beside the window. In cabs Kutu occupies one side and   I occupy the other. Maa simply sits in between with no complains whatsoever. Yes there is a sense of guilt accepting the fact that I have always had all the chicken leg pieces all through my life and till today, I don't even know if Maa loves them. Anyday-Any Problem! I just know it for a fact that Maa has a solution and when Maa faces one, I don't even get the hint of it.

Maa my hero!
Happy Father's Day Maa :* 

4 down!

Its such a relief to wake up without the guilt of over-sleeping.
...

...

And I have absolutely noting to write .

P.S. Debjani London, Satabdi Kashmir and random people are going to random places.
How I hate Kutu for being adamant on "Ami school miss kore ghurte jabona"

Happy Holidays everyone :)
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Ron: Can you believe our luck? Of all the trees we could've hit, he had to get one that hits back

Ashbena Brishti? :@

Where have all the non residential Pune warriors gone? Kolkata CAN do without you! And do well

Yes this the most cliched and obvious post EVER! I have been waiting for this day ever since most of the KOLKATANS chose to part their way from their city of joy.

If you think you love Pune over Kolkata because of the greater number of Bengalis associated with it, you are just being RACIAL. If you love Pune because Dada got a chance there, it is OKAY but loving it more than your home team and supporting it during days like today is disgraceful, disloyal. You might just love Dada but loving him beyond the city, your own city is absolutely NONSENSE.

To all those talking heads who were cheering Pune over Kolkata, you already have an answer, and if you still blame it on luck, Shahrukh Khan and field politics... BITCH PLEASE.

Face it: THE Ganguly might have been a good player and an absolutely amazing caption ( yes, he WAS the best) and he had his time but now he is OLD and cannot play well anymore. FACE IT.

Had an absolutely amazing bikel.
And KKR! Thank You.

o.O

Everyone knows the destination. The path that one takes to reach there is what makes the  journey interesting, exciting and different.

What happens when you exactly know what is there for Sunday breakfast? Or when you know exactly which bus to from SakherBazar will take you to college just in time?
It takes away the joy and fun of looking forward to the dining table or the rush rush rush of the last 20 minutes before reaching the campus.

I always avoid hearing/reading the weather report to allow the rare rainfall to surprise me during days like today (39.4 degree C).
Life will be very boring for me till the end of July
I exactly know

• Sem starts from 23rd
• Dotnet nonsense from 15th
• VT right after that

With a bit of alterations here and there, an absolute black and white schedule will continue to frustrate me till the end July.

Pleasant or unpleasant, surprises are absolutely required to strive and I need life to surprise me PLEASE (pleasantly of course). 

I am bored.

 

Software is NOT Engineering!

A random Dadu commented at the Auto stand
"Software ta abar Engineering naki?
Engineering manei Mechanical r Civil"
And this reminded me Titoo's remark two years back when he said that he firmly believes that JU and other colleges of equal strata should stop giving BE degrees to CS and IT department and stick to B-Tech degrees. Bachelor of Technology would do but Bachelor of Engineering for the software engineers? Certainly NOT.


And after a frustrating (2 days prior to Sem ) morning with the newly bought 'Organiser' I am behaving like my Didi (who always told me during school days, "tor classs ta r emon ki? Amar class ta beshi kothin")

Ah yes! Software is not engineering my friend.
It is SUICIDE

The 4th April Shower :)

Ah peace!
How I love April showers.
How I hate my phone when it becomes the sole reason for thinking twice before running the way back home on rainy evenings.
And I am a self certified black (and white) tongue.
Be afraid people :D
Have fun!

Ithaca

'When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,

Pray that the road is long'

Ayush started his recitation and my mind drifted to those sheltered years when Ankur would recite the same poem to me at the University campus under the 'Polash' tree.

I first met Ankur during a seminar at the University. He was the typical 'arty' type. Took immense pride about his unkempt beard, baggy kurta, perennially borrowed cigarettes. He moved around the campus with a note of ten rupees inside his worn out wallet. He spoke of communism, ideologies and literature. He often wrote poems but would recite poems of others. No dreams, no ambition, just blur vision, made him look like a leader,out there to change the world. The typical "ALL TALK NO WORK" type. 

I always thought these qualities are repulsive, I  always hated such fake intellectuals of the Arts department of our college till I met Ankur.

He was giving some kind of lecture on the political dis functionality. It was so annoying after some time that I made a nasty remark. That is when our eyes first met.

The next 3 years of college were spent together with many common friends, movies, texts, parties, outings and more of his theories about the country and politics and literature, TOGETHER. He called me a snob I called him a show off but underneath there was immense love and respect. I would always refrain him and myself from going a step further. We never accepted certain facts. I played the bitch because I knew I could never tell my parents about him and actually could not tell them even when they proposed and fixed my marriage to a software engineer who would make me happy 'forever'. Yes he would keep me happy and provide all the luxuries that I wanted, I thought. Love is certainly not enough to sustain.

'Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage

Without her you would never have set out on the road

She has nothing more to give you'

On the last day of college while Ankur was reciting his favorite 'Ithaca' to me, under the same old 'Polash' tree I took his hand and said "I am getting married in two months".

He just looked very deep into my eyes and did not say a word. Those eyes have haunted me since then. I am a slave of the pills to give me peace on sleepless nights. Yes, I have been a selfish, spine less woman. A scar on the face of love and humanity but...

"Hon, our son is brilliant. You have taught him a wonderful poem. He will surely win."- Sudhir said that and planted a kiss on my forehead. Ayush looked perfect and smart on stage as he continued with a charming smile.

'And If you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you,

Wise as you have become with so much experience,

You must have already understood what Ithaca means.'

Applause filled in the school auditorium.