I will be waiting here... For your soul to shake- Rumi

One month of my new office, one month and one day of this new city and

Pooja is getting engaged

Satabdi is getting married

Pooja is getting married

Maa sounded like she is a little embarrased and upset by the peer pressure. However, she is coming over. Soon. Yay!

Also, 111 days to home. Yay Yay Yay! 

Skeptic Makorsha Mine! Much Love. Okbye

You wont remember.
I wont remind.
But today.
Exactly two years ago.
10:00 am.
Sigh.
Okbye.
Whatever keeps you happy.

End of A Legend

An average structure, an average face, an average Saari and an extraordinary person. ‘Miss’ Bhanja! We have made fun of her ever flowing aanchol and ever so wrong English all through the school years. It was Frances Sir who first corrected us by mentioning that for her, school and students are all that there is to life. “Miss” was a “Miss” and during the last few days, all she had were the students to cry for/after her. It saddened me for me more than her today, when she passed away after fighting breast cancer, stage last, which was discovered much too late. The troubles of being all alone with no one to look after you see?  However, the amount of dedication she had for all the students and Maths would forever be remembered and like all the memes and Bhanja jokes, she would remain immortal for all the Diocina’s who had the priviledge to know her. I wish I was in Kolkata to see her last time, one last time today. With that black square classes and semi grey hair. Rest In Peace. “Miss”

কে কার জন্য ছন্দ হারায় বন্ধ চোখে

These days I have started to question myself about the reasons and meanings of everything around.

Even if I get the next to impossible December promotion. So?

Even if I attract random South people. So?
How does anything matter when you know what would finally be.

When you do not have someone to tell your tales to, there is no purpose of anything at all. The mother who sits miles, away freaking out at your sudden sadness and no whatsapp dp, can be alarming because suddenly you are not allowed to have your sadness'. It affects her happiness. Good thing or bad, I know not.

Then there are these friends far and very very far who checks on your haal and misses you in the middle of the night. The super late night calls from Pune could make your roommate kill you for sleep disturbances though. Chalo koi toh yaad kiya will make you a little happy though.

Then you have fb and pages of happy couples posing and meeting on monthly weekends over drinks and food. You remember the good days and the many dreams that would never form reality. The friends would then bash you up for stooping low, much too low. R kotoi ba korbo?

As Maa said the other day at my Raj Kapoor dp,

“Betu jotoi dil hate niye ghor or Jodi na nebar thake to ki korbi”

Such swag Mommy has my my! Also, my latest realization is, spiritualism is the closest thing to love. I might convert to Boishnob and serve at ISKCON if things remain this way. I remember, Maa did not like my Tulshi mala a few years ago. Time for Maa’s next freak out session!

I’ll fight with the world

if it comes to that be your big gal

To prove them right

But every time you say goodbye

I swear to god

I cry I cry I cry I cry (2)

When you say goodbye

I swear to god I cry

I might be sentimental

But don’t get so judgmental

Yeah I’m just an old school

Old school old school girl

I might be sentimental

But don’t get so judgmental

So what if I’m an old school girl

Old school girl

I’m an old.. old school girl..

Aaa.. aa..

M I S H T I

Let Us Be Our Own Batman

New Girl In The City

An extremely clichéd title aha! I thought I would make this title when I shift Mumbai (the city of exes) and write up a similar post about exploring and knowing the city with a special someone. Bangalore happened so I become the clichéd person that I am anyway! I will change the title to a second title now, because, well, because.

So the city is overrated. Yes you do have a LOT of alcohol places and you do have a lot of freedom but I am a believer in enjoying all the small and big, happiness’ and sorrows on double ticket. That could of course be a BIG problem, especially when you wake up with Kolkata dreams and message disappointments every day!

The city in itself other than being a little too overrated has a brilliant weather. I remember the free saunas that Kolkata was serving when I came. Here I get beautiful customary storm followed by rain almost every evening from The Accenture shuttle which I  walk almost a kilometer from Tower C to Tower A to take. Then one hour jam from the building to main gate with Bangla, yes Bangla songs, brightens or lightens my mood depending on the kind of day I’ve had had. This city has however strengthened my belief on the strange connection that my extreme mood has with the rains. That again is a story for some other day.

I did meet these sweet little girls who tried convincing me for 30minutes the other day that Mango Ice Cream is actually a smoothie (and had to give up eventually)! However, the mishti cravings with or without the smoothie in the middle of the night after a meal that has carrot overdose will make your heart cry out for Mommy dearest! The kind of drama I used to do when there used to be a bad (read any vegetable that is not Chicken or Egg) for dinner and on the blue moons that had no dessert (read mishti) post lunch, I would make the saddest (read meanest) face to Maa for the ‘torture’. Those were some days and these are the other days when my Sunday lunch is spent partly on sulking over the Rasam and partly on convincing Maa that the food is good!

These oh-Mommy-is-the-bestest of course are the dinner bed topics which would make you shed a tear or two secretly (especially when you wash your dish as well, for the first time ever, ei boyeshe eshe) others would howl and cry while the city horns and midnight wind will make you quite, very heroine like. Is this what I wanted from life? Is this not? The answer would be difficult and cannot be answered in one word. The value and importance of Maa has increased manyfolds. The ghyan ghyans have increased by ten times. She was convinced the reason why I said I’ll leave everything and be back is not for the love of Kolkata or her, but because ‘ghyan ghyan korte parchhishna’. One thing that Bangalore has made me realize is the fact that I must never have babies. Not that I would have the chance to have one anyway but I must not have as well because I am not meant for so many sacrifices and compromises. I am doing enough for this lifetime already. Oh Maa, I love you!

Now, my patent shit. Yesterday, while I was lying in pain on the sick bed for two hours straight, a strange thought occurred to me. It was the same pain exactly 2 years ago when I was questioned, called, messaged, right from the middle of a brilliant movie, because, well, because. I would forever be grateful to Sidd for tolerating a few hours on the 8b subway stairs, right after a brilliant movie, with a certain mister because I was in pain. All of this gave me brilliant memories and dippy eyes. Those were my salad days of dreams and yesterday, in pain I smiled because, well, because. Thank God for the memories at least!

I could go on rambling. Oh here, I have learnt to eat alone. Finally. Happily? Bleh.

Let us be our own Batman this time. Because, well, because, you don’t have a choice this time.

Oh Strong People With Self Worth! * bows*

A woman called Sreemoyee Kasturi Banerjee writes THIS beautifully and is THIS strong!

"There is something you need to know about me, about why you hear only silence from a distance. It isn't that I don't care anymore, or that I don't love you just the same. But, when you're gone, I don't think of you. I don't remember all the happy afternoons, the delirious cab rides and out-of-focus nights. The songs we've danced on and the ones we've screeched out of drunken throats. No, I don't wallow in the grief of your absence. I simply get on with life. If I didn't, I wouldn't quite be whole and sound. You see, I don't do "Goodbye"s very well. Not even "See you later"s. 

I don't cry when I miss you, or call and chat you up. I ignore it and distract myself. Convincing you and me that it doesn't matter, because I don't want to talk to your electronic voice, see your stuttering image on a fifteen inch screen. I want you, happy and warm, in a lung crushing bear hug. I want you sitting in front of me, sharing an unsaid joke, with the gleam in our eyes. I want to hear your uninterrupted laughter, loud and clear, and I'll be part of your joy.

The thing is, I have all these unwritten letters, asking you how you are, what you've been doing. I won't write them, you won't receive them. You won't know you've been missed. You see, I don't do "Goodbye"s very well. Not even "See you later"s. "

City Lights :)

Today be my one week anniversary at Bangalore. Now if you belong to that section of the society who is wondering from where on earth did the one week anniversary concept emerge, you would not be the other section that wonders why I am left alone by the, uhmm… well, non-fairer sex (do not take the color in too much of a literal way).

When I came to the city I hated it. I still hate the fact that I come home to no home. The new found freedom is exciting, yes, but somehow when you have a mother who still keeps her mouth shut and prays for the well being of someone who has broken you into pieces, just because you want it that way, you really cannot claim to not have the “freedom” bit at home sweet home. The first weekend high is mandatory and slightly remarkable true, but then, we have always had Fairlawn back home!

There of course has been and shall forever be one million other comparisons between Kolkata and Bangalore, I’ll save all of that for the future posts which would be very many.

However, this whole horrible experience had one good thing. My wishlist of a room that looks over a road with city traffic lights has been checked. Yay! The little joys yes. Yes, the view is a little guarded from my room and clearer from Sejuti’s, yes the view is not ‘shared’ as per the plan, I do not have a hand to hold in excitement at the yellow street lights in the middle of the night at an unknown city. But this is all that I can manage on my own, and that is all that God has for me. Not everyone is as lucky as the one I want to be lucky you see. Chalo something is better than nothing after all.  

However, the only baseline wish that I have forever had from my life is to come home to someone I love and who loves me back. One such person left at the thought if future prospects by choice, and the other person, my Mother, cried and had to leave because I said so. Not everyone has everything you see. And they would say I am not meant to move around much. Surely I am not. For I do not believe in solo exploring and definitely not in coming home to darkness. I NEED to come home after exploring the world to tell the stories to someone you see. I need people. And people minus one (Maa of course) do not need me. Irony much!

Bengaluru gave me a hell lot of tears and broken friendship in the first week itself, manush chena and all that jazz.  Thus, making me strong maybe. Made me a bitter person though. Bangalore, I hope you do not disappoint me like everyone. Not that I have a lot of expectation from you anyway. Kolkata, I miss you. A little less than the missings of THE you though. Ah my lack. Such Lack.