Too Fat To Bat

You decide to say bye bye to fat food, Pujo ashchhe! Especially because these mad girls put Kaju and Cream and LOTS of oil in everything during weekend from Chicken to Paneer to Grass, and they HAVE to cook during weekends! Ananya (when you meet her after 2 months) also agrees that your face has become a full fledged watermelon :(

Hence

Day1, Monday, you skip breakfast and order fruit bowl for lunch! Do a little dance on this achievement while the colleagues laugh! Yes, have fruits, become thin and fair yes! You get your food and wait for Abhimanyu to bring his lunch. And what does he do? He brings himself 4 parathas and, TWO plates of gulabjamun. Passes you one plate (each plate has two) and keeps one for himself? Because? Because you are having fruit bowl and ‘compensatory food toh chahiye’. You shout and revolt but then the two lovely perfect round Gulabjamuns look at you with Puppy eyes and Abhimanyu reminds that you do not let others waste food. Kyu! The free sweet treats are appreciated though but, err, uhmmm, Yummm! In the evening you order Green tea (half dena bhaiya), spend exactly 45minutes trying to gulp that poison. ‘Kal se pakka’ you think! You anyway ditched your daily bournvita. Green tea= thin! You keep on repeating to yourself. Abhimanyu keeps on laughing at you and you miss Amit, your go-thin partner. You come back, pg! Decide on one roti for Dinner and then returns Prajakta from Pune. ‘Puranpori khao’ she says and you of course cannot say no to ghar ka khana. The moment you are done, ‘Gujiya khao’ and when you start to say that you are on diet she says ‘maine banaya hai’ and then, you have the super Yumm and sweet gujiya. When you are just done with all the sweet and fat, she presents to you, ‘Abhi, ganpati ka Modak lo’!!!! WHY DO PEOPLE GO HOME! And you of course cannot skip dinner because the girls will allow. Such fatty love babare :D

Day2, You again skip pg breakfast, yay! But then, there is mithi nimki inside your almari, it is calling you. You have one and then another one and then a bowl full and the little chocos that was left! Amit comes from Patna and talks about his love life again where the girl waits for him and he tortures her with silence because well ‘Bihar mein aisa hi hoga hai’, you shout at him like everyday and hence, you are hungry again. You order Paratha and Chicken from the Sultans for Lunch, the fruit bowl counter calls you though. ‘Bikele green tea’ you think. Finally comes bikel, Amit goes to his flat early because he is not well and Abhimanyu comes late for evening tea because he has a mad TL. You are hungry and happy thinking ‘fat burn hochhe’. Green tea time. You reach up to 6^th floor, you know you have to order half green tea for yourself and full bournvita for Abhimanyu from MDP. There is a HUUUUGE line. When you reach the counter the man smiles big and says ‘Two full bounvita toh Madam?’ You smile and say NOOOO! The man again calls another helper man and says ‘Madam usual orderraa (some random thing in Kannad), ek sugarrrra ek without sugarrrra’ and you are so happy at this that you nod and take that only, like everyday. You reach Pg, start to write this and suddenly feel VERY hungry again. You finally decide, ‘ki r labh roga hoyei, let It be nahoy, like everything else in life’

Ting!

Did I ever tell you that my idea of a perfect Biswakarma Pujo is visiting Doordarshan Bhavan in the morning to Maa’s office, New Market n the noon for Pujor Bajar and returning home very very elated with the Khichuri the rickshawalas (YES you read it right) give? No right? I think I should have. I would have repulsed you a little earlier that way. However this year my day ends with a whatsapp ping,

Maa: Rickshaw wala ra khichuri aar aalurdom diye gechhe beta :(

Exhibitionism

I have this constant habit of obsessing over words and songs. For this period, which I don’t know will exist for how long; the word is ‘Exhibitionism’. 

The word was put into a constant loop in my head by my favorite author, song writer and lover of my generation. He wrote a note for everyone before leaving for Dublin on Monday, mentioning, he would be forever grateful to his girlfriend but won’t write further on a social networking site because she is not too fond of his ‘exhibitionism’. Now I have always loved this couple for their going apart and coming back together thingy, which again is my mad obsession over one-life-one-love idea. However, I love the fact that the woman in the story has zero oh-my-baby-so-famous attitude and the man, despite being such a show off and genuinely talented ends up being just a random lanky fellow with loose t-shirts and tons of headstrong love for his one and only.

When I told Aniket over Lync that ‘Ankur (name changed) desh chharchhe’, just for his college connect, he was up in fumes because he does like my favorite. Why? Because of his this exhibitionism. But would I get to know him had this exhibitionism not existed? Yes I would have always known of a boy who topped both English and Bengali entrance at JU when I could not, but reading his write ups with such enthusiasm would have never happened had he not been the show off that he is. And I am absolutely in love with his songs, despite the use of the word ‘show off’ which, of course is not the best kind of compliment. I also might go up to the extent of saying that I started to listen to Cohen, not because the man I love loves Cohen but because this said Ankur wrote this song as the Bangla version Suzanne, for his girlfriend, and THAT made me love all the three men I mentioned in the last line more, two of them for their talent, and one, just because

So as I was saying, Exhibitionism! How required or not required is it? And how close or far apart is it from the idea of fakeness and pretention? Is fakeness even pretention? Or pretention, fakeness? And do they both stand out to be almost synonyms for exhibitionism? So many questions just to show off my put on intellect aha? Intellect still sounds nice and fine. The word here is aantlami! As Titoo would put it

Abhimanyu was complaining to Amit over breakfast today, ‘yeh ladki kitna bhi bulao dekhti hi nahi, mast chashma daal k, earphones laga k chale hi ja rahi thi, phir hum hi ruk gaye is paar aayegi tab baat karunga soch k’ on my daily morning half a kilometer walk from Ecospace to Pritech park to Building 7C. There are two parallel roads and I have my walk of swag with the SAAAAME song playing for the last three and half months of Bangalore, trying to live the lines of this particular song, ‘trying’ to be someone I am not. And in all of those ‘trying’ I ignored the dear old colleague/friend on the opposite parallel road, putting up with almost the same life situations, with a smile and without the chashma and earphones, both figuratively and literally. Exhibitionism much again?

So exhibitionism here, there and everywhere. The ones that we do for others, the ones that we do to ourselves, just to present ourselves as a better, cooler version of us that we are not. Because happy and smooth endings are too main stream. I can understand how the post is slightly turning towards dangerous waters now and so I would not write any further. However, if words were people, the last kind of lets-be-different-from-what-the-world-does-because-I-am-Anglo Exhibitionism would be a charming tall man in black blazer, rimless glasses and a big mug of coffee, smiling at me because I would not reach up to him even though I am sure that is all that I want, because, I do not quite match up to the it, because, I am just too predictable, too normal, too mundane, too Indian, like everyone. How much I would hate and love it eternally! Exhibitionism, the world and the charming man. How much! How much? If only you knew! 

Ignore the last bit.

Happy Engineers Day!!!

And then taking from his wallet an old schedule of trains, he'll say, I told you when I came I was a stranger

Same old ghyan ghyan  to the same old people  about the same old thing. The same old expectations murdered by the same old reality, put up by the same old pretentions. Same old me with the same old love at the same old songs. The same old bravery fuelled by the same old patience. The same old wanting to end it all but the same old woman jaar dike takiyei shobtuku bacha.

Aari-r por bhaab! Ei dhrubo shotto. R jokhon aari nei shekhane bhaab koi? Keno j boro holam, ki j holo. Kono ki dorkar chhilo? Besh toh ache shobai, furtite, besh toh achhe shobai, shob bhule. Kichhuta notun der niye, kichhuta notun der ashay, karon jahai puraton tahai kharap nah holeo, jahai tyajjo taar dike phireo dekhbo na, shey puraton dukkher bojha shomo bekti beche thakuk ba na. Ei holo prevalent shorbotrer mentality jeta fathom kore othar asha, cheshta r procheshtaay kete gelo amar bochhor ta, kintu dekheo shikhe uthte parlam na eta. Onno durer, kachher ba khub kachher manush er jibon nidorshon dekhe sheta shikhte aat mash por o parlam r koi. Bad learner r ki. Dekheo shekhena jara. Daha fail bachbenchers der dol, jara shudhu barir lokder disappoint r lojja chhara kichhui ene deyna. Tai abar ki, pore thaklam ja bhabi, ja chai, ja paai kingba paina sheta niye. Shei kothata achhe na, ja chai taa bhul kore chai, ja paai ta chaina.Hoyto shotti, abar hoyto na. Shudhu ektai obhimaan roye gelo jiboner theke, etota kharap kintu ami shotti e korini karor shathe j karma-struck hoyechhi bhebe obhijog korbona. Kintu shetai bepar j obhijogg taai ba korbo kaar kachhe? R keno? Repulsive ghyan ghyan er shokol matra chhariye ei almost ponchash kg’r existence niye beche achhi besh aajkal. Jak, ki r. Shey bicharpoti jaai bolun.

  

She's 'just a station on your way'

For she was,

Recently fat, forever short, recently old aged, long dumped and VERY recently one grey haired.

Can one be more desirable?

Guess not  -_-

However, Diiiillllllll Dhadakne Do!!!

Tel Maalish :)

This is going to be a long and nonsense post. You may not read.

Friday nights, other than the Anu Kapoor show with old songs and the inevitable rains, also has a champi compulsion. Last month I ditched the good old Parachute coconut oil for Bajaj Almond oils. Yes, the sanity of the post is lost from the third line itself. What I wanted to say is, the oil champi-s always remind me of Dida. Half of my life woes would have vanished had she been with us today. The sincere “Pray kore dio” to her for everyone small or big trouble and the effective God connections have been saving me since forever (When I say forever, I mean forever, and yes, I am old that way, I know you’ve always known that. Well). So the oil massage reminded me of Dida who would take liters of hairoil, put it all on the scalp and say ‘ki groom beta tomar mathata, roj tel lagabi!’. I wonder if she would be able to forgive me when I won’t be able to wear the Matarani pendant on a certain day. Jak, talking of champi-s, my Mother is horrible at it. Shob chul tene shesh kore debe, and how much she used to be jealous when I said Dida is better than her! And this fun song :')

Oh Maa being the ONLY guardian angel of my life, saved me from the lonely birthday at an overrated city this time. I absolutely detest my birthday for more than a reason but then, waking up in your room, getting all pampered by Mommy and getting to meet the best friend, who has put on weight (yay! I am not the only one) at the dreamland of gate no4 is amazing. The Kolkata visit after three months was beautiful and expensive, but beautiful nonetheless. Met everyone who was in town, Olivia, Sujoy, his bou (THIS would be reality), Aritri, Shreemoyee, Subhayan, Munnididi. Buchu almost stayed for the entire span of 4days. Maa was in tears when she saw me at the airport while not a drop came out of my eyes. I have become bloody insensitive I realize. Passed Mani Square and all those known lanes of long walks kind of drowned me bad. I was also under the impression that the neat and planned Bangalore yellow lights look the best at night from up above but Kolkata surprised me again. Yes, the lights were not properly arranged and yes the lights were clumsy but the huge chunk of white lights just before landing made them seem like the night sky full of stars.

I kept on pinching myself, YES I was home and I did not want to return back to all of this pretention, ever.  But someone told me once, “you are not meant for this” and I have to prove him that I am not meant for a LOT many other ugly things as well, but like those, I shall take this on as well, without bothering anyone. The city looked lovely and I was so happy that absolutely NOTHING has changed. Except for the heat that I felt after 3 months of Bangalore. Naak uchu-ness much, Shit. That night when I was giggling with Olivia like teenage girls, recently in love, I wished we were, back to those days, the stories of which we were remembering oh so fondly. When people were less selfish and more honest. I miss myself mostly these days. True. My sister kept on mentioning how fat I’ve become while Maa and Buchu were adamant on shundor chehara hoyechhe. A part of me knew nothing really matters anymore, except for the XS and S sized brand new Pujo clothes which won’t fit maybe.

The room’s lights being turned off, I cannot shit talk any further. Good riddance? I really feel like one of those women who die alone, with lots of cats, and lots of journals, when I write aimlessly and randomly like this. Ki r kora jbe. I go back to my customary Yeh Jawani Hai Deewani Iand contemplating while you can watch your Ket movies now. Happy Weekend all you potential hospital takers amar!

P.S. Happy Janmashtami. Aunty would say ‘Radhe Radhe Shyam Milade’, like she wrote on that envelope, at the context of Krishna, who of course, never quite acknowledged Radha.

P.P.S. A very Happy Teachers’ Day to my lovelies.

40days to home now. *fingers crossed*
And, laal chul, Check.