Then why are you on your own tonight?

There are these photos that I saw on facebook of dear old city of joy and I got all dippy eyed. Kotodin dekhina. But then,  “just 104 days to home” is as optimistic as I can be right now! The Bangalore people have a strange talent of making every food item taste EXACTLY the same! I kind of enjoy this and have my daily laughs at the ‘gota begun’ or ‘sewai er chowmein’. I absolutely HATE the conductors here though who have a tendency to touch your hand to ask for tickets every time. Ridiculous practices. But then, such is life J

Although Kolkata stands as the sole bearer of all of my happy ‘first’ moments, Bangalore helped me tick off a few of my wishlist items, the second piercing and the first police station visit (YES! And nail biting conversation with a pooolish). Yay! The others items would be ticked off soon I am sure but there is a little pain of not being able to share the achievement of passing a certain corporate exam or the shock(read surprise) at coding a certain difficult thing to a certain someone who sits in the nearby state right now, too high and too happy to listen to anything at all. But then, such is life J

Never Beg as my current Whatsapp dp says and Ankita keeps on telling me. Never Beg! Although the weekend mornings can be brutal, very brutal but that is how you grow up right? With or without happy dual photos or reality, with or without you. But then, such is life J

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.

And whither then? I cannot say. Chapter2: Bengaluru.

So this is it then? All my musings and lovings and dreamy eyes for the city ends tonight and tomorrow will take me to a new city. Chapter2: Bengaluru.

No I am not happy and am definitely not the kind who loves the hippie life.The amount of sadness that I feel today at the thought of my last night at the “chhader pasher ghor” which was the only “bilaashita” left in my life has made me realise that I should not have suffocated the only man I have loved, with the marriage ghyan ghyans because I would not have left my house willingly anyway. Ah lesson learnt the hard way!

However, as it stands, off I go to this alien land which random people seem to love, which I will also love probably but nothing takes away the peace when you know someone waits for you with mangsho bhaat whenever you return home. Every damn day. Ah Home! I needed at least one of the two most important people around and hence, from tomorrow, I would officially be homeless.

Cutting the Bollywood a little short (since I would do much much more of that in the next few days), Bangalore, teat me well. Please

Oh Naaaaaw :(

Bleh

আজ রুবি তে দাড়িয়ে যখন অটোর লাইন এ, আকাশে তখন প্রচুর মেঘ. Blame it on my foolish obsession  কিন্তু আজকাল, এবং হয়ত বরাবর ই মেঘ reminds me of you. যাই হোক, সেটা বক্তব্য না, বক্তব্য হলো আমার for the nth time এই realisation যে কলকাতার মত শহর হয়না।আজ যখন ঘন কালো মেঘ একদিকে আর অন্যদিকে রাশি রাশি মানুষের ভীর, ঘাম ঝরিয়ে, ভুরু কুচকিয়ে বাড়ি ফিরছিল, একবারের জন্য ও কিন্তু আমার ঘেন্না হলনা. আমার ভেবে অবাক লাগে যে এখনো একটা majority of people exist করে, যারা এই শহরের বুকে প্রথম বড় হবার ভাব, প্রথম আলিঙ্গন, প্রথম চুম্বন, প্রথম একা ঘুরতে যাওয়া, প্রথম মারামারি and the low profiled likes উপভোগ করে দিব্বি বাইরে গিয়ে শহর and বাঙালি দের খিল্লি করে. দোস হয়ত সত্যি তাদের না. The flairs and flukes of newfound freedom. আসলে আমি এই শহরেই বরাবর. বড়লোক শাশুড়ি দেখে গরীব মা কে ভোলার concept টা এখনো জটিল আমার কাছে. মাঝে মাঝে প্রেম বা অত্যাধিক পুর্কি overdose এ চেয়ে ফেলি বাইরে যেতে, থেকে আসতে কিছুদিনের জন্য, কিন্তু ওই আর কি.

আজ শহর টা এতই  সুন্দর লাগছিল জ I was almost sure  আজ দেখলে হয়ত you would have appreciated it as well. কতদিন পর এত্ত বাংলা লিখলাম. জানি পড়তে কষ্ট হবে তাই হয়ত, যদি পরার ইচ্ছে থাকে আর কি. নাহলেই বা কি আর. পাশে দেখলাম দুজন ট্রাফিক পুলিশ কে জিগেস করছে KFC টা কোথায়. আমি তখনও থানার অটোর লাইন এ দাড়িয়েই নিজের ফেলে আসা দিনগুলো খুজছি. ওপারে যদিও ভীর এ স্বাভাবিক বাঙালি চেহারার প্রচুর মানুষের মধ্যে একটাও tall structure ছিলনা. কিছুটা হেসেই নিলাম. কানে তখনও সেই কলেজ ফার্স্ট year এর hot favourite গান, "তোমায় দিলাম আজ” বাজছে. Sir শুনিয়েছিল গানটা, আজ সেও কতদূর. হয়ত I would actually be the one who বিদেশে বসে sophisticated smile দিয়ে boomark করা "বাড়ি কোথায়" গান টাও post করবো কয়েক বছরেই খুশি খুশি. বরাবর এ আমি বেশ hypocrite.

হয়ত শহর ছাড়াই আমার জন্য ঠিক হবে কিন্তু আজ one had to be there with the song and the scene to understand why this shit I write away to glory. গঙ্গার ধার না, হাওরা ব্রিজ না, রসগোল্লা না, সেই চির পাতি রুবি তেও যখন হালকা কালবৈশাখী আসে, আমি এরম উন্মাদ এর মত baseless কথা বলতে থাকি. সাধেই কি আর সয্য করতে পারলেনা my idiosyncrasies. যাই হোক সেইসব ফাউ কথা বলে নাহয় আর বিরক্ত করলাম না. আর এ শহর কে বলি, কাল যদি চলে ও যাই, কারণ যেতে তো হবেই কিছু করার নেই, এখানে সারা জীবন থাকার ভাগ্য এই প্রজন্মের কেউ করে আসেনি. Plus you really find the city in the people. I had two such ‘people’ who made the city THE city. And hence এখন কলকাতা কে half heartedly feel করতে পারি. বাকি half টা অন্য কোনদিন হয়ত ঘুরতে আসব যখন খুশি হয়ে পারব feel করতে. বা হয়ত কোনদিন ই the half and half won’t make a whole. তবুও যদি কোনদিন লেখিকা হতে পারি, লিখব তোমার বেপারে শহর, কিছু অবশ্যই. নিশ্চই.  

হঠাত এসে এক বর্ণ ও বুঝতে না পারলে নিজেকে সুস্থ মস্তিষ্কের মনে করবেন.

Ek J Chhilo Raja... Taar Bhari Dukh

"দুঃখ যাবে কি?
বিরস বদনে রাজা ভাবে কী?
বলি যারে তারে দিয়ে শাস্তি
রাজা কখনো সোয়াস্তি
পাবে কি?y
দুঃখ যাবে কি?" 

Quoting the same song for the nth time. For Ray day and the apt song. Never been a mad fan. Tobuo Bangali toh, and proudly so :)

Happy Birthday

This awesome sauce from fb which I wish I could read to and with the one!  :D


#‎Satyajit‬ - 4

1.
Lalmohon: Why Batmobile moshay ?
Batman: Coz it can go anywhere,adept in sharp maneuvers,can absorb any blow.
Lalmohon: Arrey Batmobile, Kolkata Taxi; Same thing.

2.
Lalmohon: Costume seems Jompesh. From New Market ?
Batman: Self designed.
Lalmohon: Market it Moshai. Huge scope in Goriahat.

3.
Lalmohon : Impressive mask.
Batman : Thanks
Lalmohon : But Monkey Cap offers better protection you know. Especially in late December...

4.
Lalmohon : Have you heard the Bengali probaad Sir ? "Ghugu dekhechho Faand dekhoni" ?
Batman: What does that mean ?
Lalmohon:It means ; "You may have seen the Joker but you have not seen Maganlal Meghraaj".

5.
Batman : You have any idea about what I do ?
Lalmohon ( With an arctic melting smile) : You have any idea about what Prakhar Rudra does ?

6.
Lalmohon : Gotham City....
Batman : Chill down the spine kind of a name eh little man ?
Lalmohon : Have you heard of KoborDanga Sir ?

7.
Batman : You will never know how it feels to fight the jaws of death.
Lalmohon : You will never be in Mogonlal's private circus.

PS: 
Holmes : Boring.
FeluDa : That's exactly where Lalmohon comes in. Elementary my Dear Holmes, elementary

Sulking No 10001

Just when you are in deep deep introspection (or self pity should I call), the rain arrives, making you leave Java and go through all those prized screenshots which would probably stay with you forever (with extended backups) because... well because. You also do your random stalking of random happy people (when I say people, I specifically mean plural, the number is very specific, two).

Did they teach you in high school or middle school or Montessori that jealousy falls under bad virtue? I have become a very bad person this year. Do not confuse between jealous and insecure. I am very specifically a very jealous person for a very specific field of human emotion which I see all around and suddenly more vividly, while I stare at random Subways and Swirls with not so glittery eyes.

Earthquakes came. While on day1 I was bed-shaking and wondering if the earth is shaking or safe far south, on day2, at the Mani Square washroom when they started evacuating people with such urgency and seriousness, I did feel scared to die, after a very very long time. It was one of those moments when I understood that the one I secretly am disappointed with, was not wrong in choosing what was chosen over the whole of me. Self happiness comes FIRST, for everyone. The after effects and the after shocks cause way too many quakes this way though. However.

Then there is this beautiful song and my darling Sonu Nigam is BACK. Had it been college time, I am sure Sir would have made this the x semester special song. As for me, I would play it on loop till I get absolutely disgusted with it. Anyway, SUCH a beautiful song. I would ignore the lyrics for now. Try to atleast. Java time again, maybe not. There is a consistent (thank God for one consistency in my life) Kalbaishakhi, so time to feel all heroine like again. The movie genre is still a matter of discussion for tomorrow. Well. 

C'est La Vie?

Love, Poetry or Wine?

The choice is always simple,
Love, Poetry or Wine?
The one that makes you high
To back your back
To hold you tight.
For you must get
The blissful waves
Through your lover's touch, the magical verse or the dancing of the vine.


But somehow if you wake up,
In the solitude of your room
Wanting to cry or thinking twice,
Remember that your choice was wrong
And accepting it is fine.
For you shall get to choose again
From the ever so simple list.
Love, Poetry or Wine?

-Abhishikta

So How Does It Feel To Get Rid Of Me? :)

Because I am silly. Pwomish!

To someone I Love. To someone who was a companion, a lover, a friend, a guardian angel, a teller of stories, a writer of deep thoughts, a partner who did not share my taste for food, music, movies and dirt but was a partner nonetheless.

To someone who made me a much better person than I could have been otherwise.  

Thank you for putting up. Maybe not.

*blinks*       

           

Cliched Dreams.

Cliches, people have been looking down upon it ever since they wanted to be "different" for the sake of it. The major idea behind the existence or non existence of man is, or at least was(till everyone became Hollywood Superheroes) supposed to be based on the set of dreams one weaves. Dream, the horrible insanity that I call it these days.

Jealousy is a virtue they say, and so is love. Overlapping and folding of these two rule me these days. Jaa k bole mile mishe ekakaar. The submissive binoyi bitch that one heartbreak can turn you into. You gather around sympathy, happily. Yes happily. Anyone who claims to not like the sympathy after continuous exposure of the sadness and put on bechariness is a big fat liar. I know this from first hand experience. There is this one life that is filled with strange unknown words or keywords that the 4 years of elitest CSEhood could not impose on you and there is another life where you have friends and close friends walking towards the scarlet sky on double ticket. Desperate I sound? I might and I do not care.

The the long forgotten topic. Dreams. Would you be ashamed of your dream when they start calling it cliche? You know what is the worst thing that can be? When your dream gorurgaaris require two drivers, one is you and the other (one and only *_*) driver probably wants to drive a single person batmobile instead. Hence your gorurgaari would not run.  Ah life! Now you can happily(?) give away on the only dream you had, be happy for and jealous of everyone. EVERYONE.

You, dear reader. Go ahead and hate me for my excessive compulsive drama while I hope they never turn your dreams into toonibulb cliches which you would never be able to own. Blessings to you. Cheers.

The mornings after a rainy night becomes double beautiful when you have a long ride in a bus that is almost empty. You get to feel the wind on your recently shampoo-ed and uncombed hair with all the rain songs playing over and again. You can also look up half sleepy to this bike riding beside. When the signal comes, you will find that the same girl on the bike bringing out an umbrella quickly to temporarily save her man, you will also find the boy caressing her woman’s plastered leg before the signal turns green. Then you can sigh as the bus starts and the wind fills in.

All you who sleep tonight
Far from the ones you love,
No hand to left or right
And emptiness above -

Know that you aren't alone
The whole world shares your tears,
Some for two nights or one,
And some for all their years. 

-Vikram Seth

Okay?

Wish You Were Here

The little nerd (nerd?) in me wants to build a tree to explain my current state, the parent node of which would be love. Then love would have a right child jealousy and a left child sadness. Sadness would again have a left child of concern and a right child of expectation. The expectation would have a left child hope and a right child tears. Hope would just have a left child happiness. Tears would have a left child depression and a right child death. Now, the luck monkey may (or may not) want to change this weirdly balanced tree to an AVL tree and start adjusting the nodes. How would it look then? The lack in me makes me want to spend the nighy trying to solve the binary turned AVL tree rather than sulking and weeping. Love may follow happiness in the final tree. That is the undying hope!

Now, the jealousy part needs a little more explanation for my own good but that is for another today. Today, I am just a little thankful for the Kalboishakhi and almost caring friends (colleagues) who clicked clicked while I got up to see the lighting all across Rajarhat from 7^th floor after a rather emotionally horrible day. Thank God for the rains! I have always believed that it has a strange connection with me, on sad days mostly. However, the sight and sound of Kalboishakhi is all the happiness that I can get for the time being maybe. Although I did fancy being a little more ket and sing ‘wish you were here’ and then I remembered, the smoke and fog are probably a bit too  much for my songs to travel far and wide, through and to the cloud. So, for the time being, I would just try to adjust the tree to an AVL tree, hoping to bring love-happiness together and include togetherness somewhere eventually. I am sure that is possible.

Happy Kalboishakhi everyone, near and far and very very far!  Wish you were here. Yes.

Such Perfection!

She needed a diversion, she needed a direction. The same old lanes, same old stories of the life that she now leads on a single ticket were becoming unbearable.

“Fancy reading my thesis on Crypto?” the dear old friend said, “You’ll get an idea of the kind of work the Universities expect/demand”

Thank God for friends. She was almost happy at the idea. After months of secret weeping and open sulking, she was actually looking forward to something constructive. She actually took the pain of downloading it. Single tap on the mobile screen and opened the thesis. Scroll certificates, scroll blank page, scroll copyrights, scroll dedications, scroll signatures, stop acknowledgements! The last line said,

I want to thank  Anjana, Ankur, Arka, Asif, Binod, Dada, Moulika, Mridul, Subhajit, Subhankar.

Off went her mind from constructive to destructive reading as she dedicated the rest of the day to staring at them being written together which she would probably never see again, not figuratively, not literally. Probably. Never. Anjana, Ankur looked so perfect beside each other. They did. They most certainly did. And they do. Such perfection, she thought, SUCH PERFECTION! 

Lucky?

There are very rare moments when I am not deeply submerged in my own self pity and sorrow these days. I have stopped posting for the while for the plain fact that I write the same old ghyan ghyanane shit, which, of course, matters not. I have become a jealous fat cow and that is bad. I look at people and their perfect life and off goes my fuse. So as I was saying, these rare moments when I am not sulking and talking to the sun are few, but they do come at times. Yesterday daytime had such rare multiple hours.

Two scenes:

Scene1: 7^th floor Cafeteria.            

This place hardly felt like office yesterday, not that it otherwise has the office-office feel while on bench, however, from TL to supervisors to ASEs, from no hair to grey hairs to us, the whole wide world seemed to be present. Occasion? India Bangladesh World Cup match! No, I am definitely not a sports person but these are scenes that you just HAVE to see! The entire floor clapping and banging tables, few standing, few sharing seats. India won! Yay!

Scene2: Ground floor Cafeteria.

This place was empty inside. The outside, that is, the glass walls all around the cafeteria had guards and gardeners and outside workers peeping in to get just a glimpse of the TV that played the match inside. When I went for a walk outside (yes I miss World Cups for long walks) I actually saw a Guard with a transistor inside his pocket to get the commentary while he peeped inside to see what he is hearing, only to run back to duty a moment later. India won! Yay!



However, yesterday is long over, so are my sudden feelings of being blessed, and this is MY blog and I shall dukkho away to glory -_-
OCD much!