Haiku Attempt 1.2

Rowed to cloud, the queen
The cloud, only wanted green
Love poet, grateful

Had a very shiny nose

Everyone who is/was ‘homecoming’ to Kolkata &/| ,

Everyone who is/was getting married &/| ,

Everyone who is earning &/| ,

Everyone who is/was not dumped ,

Congratulations but please stop doing this to me or my mother and live your own blessed life!

2015,

What’s next in line? Cancer?

Please Fuck Off NOW!

There Are Two Kinds Of People

• Ones who write flowery tales about Kolkata and never really arrive there for money/emotional constraints and the ones who stay, feel or at least visit there whenever the heart wants.
• Ones who swear at the IT world yet never really leave it or work properly (or at all) for that matter and the ones who swear at the IT world yet work, earn shit loads and bloat with silent pride.
• Ones who drink for being presentable enough and end up drinking alone all life and the ones who drink with ‘friends’ and gather happy tales.
• Ones who wear white dress with black and pink polka dots, look beautiful for a date night and realize there is no and would never be a date night and the ones who end their date nights with a kiss or more.
• Ones who click the like button at all the happy smiles of consistencies over the years, silently praying to the Gods to finally show mercy and the ones who actually get to be with the consistencies and smile without pretentions.
• Ones who dream of certain simple moments but never really get them and the ones who would make you want to dream, nomatter what, over and over and all over again.
• Ones who stalk all night and the ones whose nights have all the colors in or across Geography.
• Ones who were loved and the ones who would always be loved.
• Ones who are killed and the ones who are dead.

Keep Your Guard Up

Keep your guard up,
One plus one is no infinity.
Petite is not necessarily pretty.
Baby talks, old songs, winter morning brew?
Don’t be fooled, yes you’ve shamed,
But what was, is, not for you.
Cry over the dead man
Not over the love,
Even if you’re abandoned,
Keep your guard up.

-Abhishikta

Bela Sheshe

After almost 15 minutes of trying/wanting to write something about this movie, I still sit with a white screen.

My first brush with the movie happened in the first week of October when I would play all the nonsense and no nonsense Bengali Pujo songs on Youtube. So I came across this O Thakur song (such Kolkata Pujo) and read the reviews and watched a hall print of the same. I almost convinced half the world to watch the hall print for the sheer perfection that the movie is. Yesterday I discovered the good print on Youtube, YAY aa gaya so I would request the other half of the world, the naak uchu and my love types, to PLEASE watch this movie and THINK.

I have never been a fan of Bengali movies but then, Swatilekha reminded me of Dida while she sang “Bhobo shagoro tarono” with the grandchildren over the terrace, or while she did tel maalish to the boro natni. When she ran around the kid with bhaat or when she slipped away for random shit serial. She was everything that my Dida has been, except for the unappreciated wife. Their relationship however reminded me of my own, rather the absence of it and here comes another reason why I want everyone to watch this. I believe they should make it a compulsion for all separated couples to watch this movie together.

There is a dialogue (various dialogues in fact) where one talks of the subtle line between bhalobasha and obbhyesh while the other defines how, for some, obbhyesh tai bhalobasha. I cannot even write an inch of the awesomeness that the dialogues are. The wall clock and Pabda machh disappointments, like everyone else, just so normal, just so perfect. Add everything else with the scenes of ‘Khowai’, the moonlit night Kopai nodir dhare, the movie can make one to cry on a lonely Friday night, change your mind probably. Please! “milon hobe kotodine’ actually made me homesick, and wonder how home is a concept. And what happens when you are abandoned from home because? Just because.

The game that they play at Bolpur (and Bolpur WILL make you nostalgic for Bangla, if you’ve ever been to Shantiniketan and/or shonibarer haat), somewhat like the one we played with the entire group at lake during college days, nobody is interested anymore to know, however I would play anyway, because one day I believe, one day, and so

I wish to go: London eye te, with an ice cream and you
I wish to be: at peace
I wish to have: you
I wish to meet: Ranvijay

All the piled up things that were not said in the five lives that they show in the movie, and the songs. The ‘tumi robe nirobe’ instrumental that I can play on loop forever these days, or the “o j mane na mana” can actually choke you with the lyrics, if you happen to understand that is. Could you possibly ever understand so much Bangla?
Ami joto boli tobe, ebar j jete hobe, duare daraye bole nan a na, o j mane na mana…

This movie is plain beautiful. The official trailer that they had where the directors said,
‘kintu ponchash bochhor por o era jante chay, kuri bochhor por o era chhnute chay, sholo bochhor por o era pete chay, dosh bochhor por o era j kadte chay, paanch bochhor por o era j ador chay’ actually would give you goosebumps. Unlike reality, this movie ends on a positive note, people get back their loves and continue with their happy ever afters.

However, the defining line of the movie says,
“haater opor haat rakha khub shohoj noy
shara jibon boite para shohoj noy”  

Kintu etotai ki kothin?
Do watch. Youtube has a fine print now :)

Another year passed, a day late, thanks to my bad internet and self wailing night.
I miss you still.
Be happy wherever you are with the uncool Gods,  and grant a little for me, you know how.
Please.
Rest in peace, Always!

How Long Can You Keep A Paper Umbrella You Loved

Interesting title? It is. Came across this line on one of the many write-ups that I have been reading all day long for the last few days, nonstop. Jobless? Yes! No shit. This along with Ankita Saha’s (Yes I have way too many Ankita’s in my life) dp (posted later), made me miss Kolkata all the more. The St Pauls Cathedral (its lookalike at Chennai) where she stands so pretty in her dp has been the cradle of my childhood especially (and only) because of the awesome schooling that I had. So much missing made me buy over priced tickets to the Promised Land, even during this time of utter poverty where new Pyjamas have become too much of luxury. And Noone can be blamed of course!

Because, other than the obvious and much talked about, when I close-my-eyes!
St Pauls- Nandan- Bridge- Bk Market Goli- Right- Piccadilly- School- Left- Mrs.Naik’s- Right- KV- Left- Raina’s- right- Patha Bhavan- Straight- Gariahat- Left- Bijan Setu- Straight-  Right- Left-  Munnididi’s- Rathtala- Right- Masjid- Left- Right- Pukur- KayosthoPara- Right- Ramlal- Left- Safui- Straight- Khaal- Right- Left- Straight- Purple House!

Pocha told me a while ago that she wants to take up her Kalikapur to 8B auto once again without the sense of ultimatum associated with it. This was before she fell in love again and visions and missions and takes changed, like everyone else's. But the tangents of taking all those shosta and ever so known autos are peaceful. I wonder if I was born at the wrong place or chose the wrong profession. Or maybe both.

In another write up, an IT professional wrote in the year 2010 while leaving for his ILP at Gandhinagar that he is giving himself the next 5 years and by the time it will be 2015, the city will have him back. I wonder what happened to him and his currents whereabouts too. Someday I would stalk him over social networking to find out. This also made me wonder, 5 years from leaving home, 2020! How would I be at 2020? Initial plan of 2020 is long forgotten (?) but then, I hope I would be able to order a medium Pizza and Fanta/Sprite on a Friday night in the year 2020, at a house which would be home and plan for a movie for Saturday before going off to sleep, peacefully. But then, dreams are dreams and not everyone has the luxury of everything because “you have the strength to go past all this” and just because you have the strength, you’d be abandoned. Yes babe!

So, how long can you keep a paper umbrella you loved? ‘Loved’ is a wrong word. You always love. When you love, you love. When I say ‘you’ I mean everyone but ‘you’. However, the current scenario shows tall buildings of glass around. These buildings are so horribly perfect that it makes me nauseous. And inside these tall glass buildings, people do random shit for random people and pretend to enjoy. Good for everyone. The only solace is. Maggi is BACK, little mercies of staple dinner till I die then!  Wonder if my sister is all so happy because she won’t have to share the Maggi and chanachur anymore with me or sad because I won’t be there to make us the fried version (which is the ONLY thing I can prepare decently). I wonder. Like I do, for a lot many things.  Uh Well. Dinner time then. Because I promised.

And as the sweet George Eliot said,

“What novelty is worth that sweet monotony where everything is known, and loved because it is known?”