Thursday, June 7, 2018

Epiphanies and Bollywood disappointments

So as they say, it is really not the world outside but your own heart that makes you who you are. The eternal and irreconcilable conflict of nature versus nurture, where what you are and what you are made, try to balance themselves equally trying to share the credit or shrug off the blame for the ultimate result. And thus, after an evening all by myself at a busy square in a Spanish city, I come to conclude that the exterior can not change what you feel inside unless you are ready to change it with your own conscious decision. And then you may as well be in a remote village of an unknown district of an under-developed country, but you may be a happy and content being. Well, this may not be a new revelation to many but this epiphany - when it comes on a personal level - tends to throw light on the events and their respective responses by the surrounding people.

Today, after a couple of depressing and distressing days in this foreign land, I decided to take a walk by myself. Well, I did not really walk that much, as my pedometer app showed a pretty dismal step count. Anyway, I took a tram and then a metro and went to a busy square of the city and sat there for sometime. And I spoke to two people who are pretty close to my heart, and in my home land. But those are just the inconsequential details. What I realized as I came back home was that it is really important to look at myself from a perspective. The more I am tied down by the strings and ropes of log-kya-kahenge and expectations, the less I give happiness a chance to find its way into my heart.

And the problem with happiness is that Bollywood has created such unrealistic picture of selfless love and selfless happiness that now if you try to talk of what makes 'you' happy, you sound like a selfish witch. *wink* And then again Bollywood has given such coming-of-age movies like YJHD where a Bunny still has to come back to a Naina to find true happiness and get tied down to family and Maratha Mandir's DDLJ show with popcorn. I still wonder, why couldn't he have chosen his kind of life and just gone ahead with his passions? Even at 30 and married, I simply don't get the logic of this movie. I can understand Aditi's decision that anyway she was not able to do anything worthwhile with her life, so she got married and the man was pretty docile as well, so I am sure she would have been able to continue with her wild ways every now and then that she got tired of being 'the good wife'. Anyway, it is always better to leave Bollywood to itself. May be I could write a proper review of any of the latest brainless creations like VDW. *wink*

Thursday, January 4, 2018

Age has something to do with it

I know that I have never really felt my age and the post I am going to write today can be easily brushed off by terming it ‘escapist’. Yet, there is something more to it than meets the eye.

A month ago, I turned 30. Some say that age is just a number, while some say a woman should not reveal her age. I don’t agree with both groups. I don’t think that age is just a number, because every time we turn another day older, we have lost another day to time. We have lost another day to do something different, to do something better, something more. And no, we definitely do not need to hide our ages because it is not only insulting to our intelligence but also teaches us that it is okay to be dishonest and pretend that age has everything to do with beauty.

But the problem lies in the fact that I don’t think I am where I thought I would be once I reached the third decade of my life. It’s not that I am disappointed or regret anything. No, I don’t. And yet, I guess I thought I would have made at least one trip abroad by this time. May be saved more. Or been a better cook. Or even sing better.

Well, the singing part is mostly my fault, because I have stopped practising, and I hope to begin someday all over again. As for the cooking part, I try to whenever I can, and just like most people who have the luxury of hiring a cook, I like to try experiments and not the traditional dishes. But I need to concentrate on the day to day food as well, because it seems like these are the toughest ones. No, I haven’t taken any trip abroad yet, and I have not really saved up much. But the fourth day of the new year should be a good time to start doing so. And as for a trip, I did travel all by myself last year, which can be considered a real achievement for somebody coming from a protected household as mine. Well, come to think about it, I am really proud of that one trip to Bangalore.

And so, we come to the end of yet another post. I guess I just run out of things to write once I sit down and write. And at other times I have so much going on in my head. So it can be a good idea if I write down things at the moment and try to write them down late one. 


Friday, August 25, 2017


দশটি-তে আর ঠিক কুলিয়ে উঠতে পারছেন না।

এক হাতে হাতা, তো অন্য হাতে ঝাড়ু।
তিন নম্বরে ঝোলে বাজারের  থলে,
তাতে থাকে পেঁয়াজ, আদা, আলু --
( টোম্যাটো তো আবার ওনার ও নাগালের বাইরে!)

চার নম্বরটিতে বয়ে বেড়ান মুদিখানার ফর্দ।
উনি সংসারের কর্ত্রী বলে কতা !
চাল - ডালের খোঁজ রাখেন মশাই ?

পঞ্চমে থাকতেই হবে একটি তানপুরা,
দেখে শুনে সংগীতজ্ঞা কন্যা আনা হয়েছিল যে!
ছয়ঋতু জুড়েই ষষ্ঠ হাতে থাকে একটি ছাতা,
আজকাল তো নটায় রোদ, তো এগারোটায় বৃষ্টি।
হাঁচলে - কাশলে সংসারটা কে দেখবে?

মেজাজ সপ্তমে চড়ানোর জো নেই,
তাই সাত নম্বরে থাকে ওয়াশিং পাউডার Nirma,
মেশিন থাকলেও, "একটু হাতে করে রগড়ে নেবে বৌমা?"

আহ্লাদে আটখানা হয়ে সপ্তাহের আট নম্বর দিন যখন যান বাপের বাড়ি,
আট নম্বর হাতটিতে থাকে মিষ্টির বাক্স,
বাবা-র বড় প্রিয় নলেন গুঁড়ের রসগোল্লা।

নবগ্রহের প্রার্থনাতে নবম হাতে শাঁখ,
দশ নম্বরটিতে পূজোর ঘন্টা।

এগারো নম্বরটির প্রয়োজন পড়ে ফাটা গোড়ালিতে বাঙালির প্রিয় বোরোলিন লাগাতে --
আর শেষ টা?
কলম ধরতে।

Disclaimer: This is a complete work of fiction and is in no way intended to hurt anyone's sentiments or sensitivity.

Thursday, April 6, 2017

Evening walk thoughts

As I was having a brisk walking session in the joggers' park beside my house - all in the attempt to go back to the pre-marital shape and size, I couldn't help but overhear a couple of old ladies. Early at this point, I should mention that I was just passing them as they were sitting on a bench beside the joggers' lane and have no habit whatsoever of eavesdropping on others' conversations. Anyway, one of them was complaining how she gives her son two pieces of fish and her son shares it with his wife whom she has given only a single piece. And the old lady seemed pretty indignant at the fact that the son's wife gets to eat a share of the fish that she had given to her son.

Here my question arises that, had the  woman had a daughter, she would have praised her daughter if she had kept the bigger piece of fish for her husband. She would have been proud that she had brought her up with good manners where she prioritizes her husband over her own self. And here, she was angry that her daughter-in-law got a share of the fish she had given to her son.

So basically, if we take her as a prototype of the orthodox society with misogynistic attitude, then how is a woman going to be empowered? When sacrificing is taken to be the ideal path for a woman, while a man is termed a 'man' if he can earn his bread and enjoy it, how can we make women happy and independent?

Now I am a firm disbeliever in the policy of sacrificial happiness in every step and sphere of life. Of course giving up something for a loved one gives immense joy at certain times, but if that becomes the habit, one day very soon you'll be in need of a messiah to deliever you. And I believe in being my own messiah, my own saviour.

Friday, January 27, 2017

Musings on loneliness

As it's the 27th day of 2017, I suddenly felt the urge to go back to where I first started. Writing. And today, I shall not speak coherently or about any particular topic. I have been wanting to write on quite a few interesting topics for sometime now, but being the lazy, laid back that I am, it has not come to success. So, here's what's happening in life.

My favourite teacher, who has also been my colleague for the past 3years, is about to retire in a couple of months, and the very thought of it makes me sad, really sad. She has been the guiding force for many of us at work place, helping and guiding us whenever we asked her.

I am witnessing my first batch of students passing out of school as they are all prepared to it for their 12th standard board exams. It is such a humbling experience that more than making me proud, I am trying to find humility in the fact that life goes on.

I am a new aunt, as my elder brother welcomes a son in the family. The feeling of holding little Simba in my arms was out-of-the-world, for the lack of a better phrase. That little heart beating, those big eyes looking at me, the helplessness of that tiny soul was scary. He slept on my lap, listened to all the songs I hummed and looked at me with wonders in his eyes. What better gift can a new aunt get?

And with husband abroad for a few weeks, every responsibility seems double, and every happiness seems half.

Then there are friends getting married every week. Some I approve of, some I don't. Not that my approval matters, or should matter. Just that, sometimes the vibes are not very positive. Sometimes, though assured a hundred times,my intuition tells me that one is not a very good person. And there starts the problem, when proofs for one's goodness cannot surpass my intuition and I am unable to give one the benefit of doubt.

And I have been trying to follow at least one TV series for the past few months, and have failed again and again. Started with Bengali, moved to Ukraine's and then Turkey's, but in vain. Somehow it's very difficult to follow the same story everyday at the same time. For that, I prefer Hotstar.

Being ill with no mother or husband to take care, is a painful business.

As I was at the doctor's chamber this afternoon for some stomach ache, I met an elderly couple. They have moved back to Kolkata after 35years in Hyderabad. Their son is settled in some other city. The old man waits for his son to visit and on the other days, remains quiet all day long. The wife seemed more in control of the situation and acknowledged that these are the prices we pay for living independently. It felt heart-wrenching to see the couple at the doctor's chamber. And suddenly, I found immense respect for my husband who is strict with maintaining family relations and valuing the knitted bond of the same.

Can't bring the post to a proper conclusion, sorry. Bye.