Wednesday, November 26, 2014

I wrote a post about this weird dream I had, and another one about..well...Pain. And then I mixed up the two and somehow it made rare sense to me.

I dreamt about a tiny cat the size of my thumb. Shiny black glistening.

See the thing is...I was fine. Till some people started coming in... Suddenly it wasn't so lonely anymore.

Then it melted and became black ice cream. And I was worried about having incurred its wrath.

I forgot however, that,  with myself, the scope of messing up was limited, of constantly worrying about hurting others feelings.(I worry a lot, unnecessarily so sometimes.)

Then it rebuilt itself and started looking like a kangaroo. A black kangaroo.

And when people and the baggage that come with them begin to push you to the point of constant self- doubt, you take the only plausible way out: you let go.

I was worried about people looking at it and being mean to it. Because it was a cat and a kangaroo.

That's the beauty of this strange exercise of letting go...two aspects  that are beautiful in fact.

And then it got angry one day. I can't remember why. I realised it wasn't just a cat kangaroo. It was also a dragon.

One, you realise how strong you are: how very strong. Even though you feel like you can't function properly a single day  given this kind of sadness( it comes in waves).You cry..my God do you cry... You cry so much that you can't hold it in even when you're in the middle of mundane things like walking back home. And yet...the next day comes and the next...and guess what? You're functioning. The tears, the self-loathing and the innumerable Oh-My-God-Why-Amn't-I-Dead-Yet moments notwithstanding. Like an old fashioned, resilient, gramophone, you play, you sing.

I have never wanted to  not wake up from a dream this badly.

And sometimes, if you're lucky the second beautiful thing happens: some of them come back. Despite all odds.



This is the closest I can come to explaining the creature I spent 8 hours with....minus the puppy dog friendly eyes 






Monday, November 24, 2014

Sundays and the Existential Crisis it Generally Tends to Infuse In Just About Everything...

Restful Sundays are awesome except when you get bored enough,you start taking selfies. And you sigh at how you don't have a life, and then you take these pictures: 






Realisation strikes! This is kind of how I've looked at things... my whole life....I even made a collage: 


Left Me: Alright Life, I'm cautious but I'm so ready to be pleasantly surprised
by you. Right Me: (After a heavy dose of disillusionment): Umm..what?
Seriously? This is how we're going to play? alright then, got my bitch face on. 

I'm not even kidding when I say, this sums it up pretty much. 

Like that time when newspapers start lying to you? And despite everything they say about the media blowing things out of proportion and blah blah blah...I'm all... this is about semantics people! 


I got a little intrigued at this piece of news article that they say is "Inside" . One of these is my alma mater. The other one was the grass is always greener on the other side placeholder. 

I opened up the paper curious to see what it is that had transpired between these two iconic institutions.
It was a single sheet of paper and there was nothing in there. And I felt a little blind because
me missing out on things glaringly present has been too much of an occurence lately.  

Then I sighed and turned the paper away because I'm not meant for reearch obviously. And there it was
clearly not "inside" but "outside" at the back cover of the paper if you'll have it. Bipasha Basu is laughing
at my existential crisis. ~sigh~ 

Also these food places.... 

Godfather Fish & Chips: Veg & Non-Veg...Because Fish and Chips...get it ? get it?
Such clever! Much wow!!

For a place that's called Hungry Tide...having a tortoise smirk at you
with "Rediscover Slow Food" splashed across your menu pamphlet
 maybe isn't the best strategy
to get the hungry office crowd? Also I like how Sit Down seems to be
one of the options...pastas bakes chinese...we get that you probably need to
sit the fuck down next.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

The Messed Up Adventures of the Glorious Pixie of Nutella Break-Ups

I am going to be honest. Been feeling lost somewhere between Stuck and Stupid Land lately. As hard as I've tried to write about it, the mind has been very stubborn. All it came up with was one single word: Blah.

So,  I decided to share some of the Random things and Photos I've saved over ages,  on my phone which totally don't make sense to me right now.
  • I plan things simply to enjoy the grandeur in watching them get fucked up
  • Best way to enjoy Fifa without disturbing your sleep cycle: keep the telly on at a moderately high volume and wake up when the guy starts shouting like he's about to wet his pants. You know the one. 
  • You know when you have a boil in the center of your forehead? Pretend it's your third eye. 
  • Have you ever looked at your life and gone...wow I don't feel like it? 
  • When someone addresses my trust issues I'm always like do you trust that I will trust you eventually despite my trust issues? Pretty sure that's recipe for some sort of weird wormhole

Me neighbours are doing it right. Nothing says "Welcome" better! 



Prince Bart just had his coronation and is happy to say goodbye to the wild nights.


This video cheered me up a little though. Maybe you need to watch it too, unless I'm the last person on this planet to catch up with this. 



This is my life now. I am the dude with the rainbow whistle.

And THEN....right when I was almost done with this post, something.awesome.happened. 

Jenny, the Bloggess wrote a post about  "Helpful Hints" or "Life Hacks" as she calls it, for the Church of the Bloggessianism. So, I'm reading through these commandments, going "hear hear" to all of them, till I stumble across these: 

  • Time is a “wibbly wobbly concept” and therefore deadlines are portals that must be avoided unless we’re okay with being trapped in a rift.
  • Bloggessians can decline social events without guilt for any reasons related to their heads getting in the way.
I'm thinking, why does that sound so familiar.....cut to comment.number.94! :D :D 

To think that Jenny chose two of my suggestions as  her favorite and they now occupy pride of place among all these insanely awesome commandments of the Church of Blogessianism... makes me furiously happy!!! Given how much of a difference The Bloggess has made in my life... I think this made my whole week. 

I've already chosen my title: 

~Glorious Pixie of Nutella Break- Ups~

This has been the best sorting ceremony ever!

Wednesday, October 22, 2014

I'm Going To Be An Author of A Book That's Called Oh Fuck Everything Sounds Dirty, Life Is Sorted.

You know when you happen to stumble on a picture of someone who you kinda worship and she's always been your mentor, and in this picture she's wearing a skirt? ...and it just looks wrong? 

Like Yoda wearing a thong?


Yoda jumps high wearing thong and lightsaber
This is the only legit picture I found on the internet, of yoda wearing a thong.That must say something.
 Source: https://drawception.com/panel/drawing/8Fuk3336/yoda-jumps-high-wearing-thong-and-lightsaber/

And then I'm thinking...wait am I becoming some sort of a prude?

As if to prove a point, right then a sweet friend (SF) who also happens to be a doctor, texts:

SF: I just spent 2000 bucks  on food that I didn't enjoy at all.

Me: What did you order crow's feet? How is food that expensive not enjoyable?

SF: Er, I don't know why you think crow's feet is expensive. But we ordered Hilsa, Mutton and Naan.

Me: All of that sounds fine except the hilsa and the naan...that sounds awkward, like that situation where you use cooking oil for a lubricant and then the sun heats your skin up and then the next thing you know your tits are on fire. (Don't believe me?  Comment.No.23 )

SF: Er...wow...I was going to say we ordered the fish for starters, but never mind then. Medically speaking though?  I'd actually like to see the whole flaming tits situation someday. You know...for experience. Never mind, no matter what I say from here on out, my brain's gonna go: Oh fuck, everything sounds dirty.

Me: Yes. Everything sounds dirty. That would be the name of my book if I ever wrote one. But maybe I'll change my name to something more exotic sounding...like Hysteria James...like James Bond, but more panic-y. 

SF: Times of India..."exceptionally unorthodox writer of the century" ..but wait, Hysteria James doesn't even sound mildly erotic.

Me: I wrote exotic, not erotic you perv.

SF: I'm kinda feeling terrible for reading exotic wrong. It's like I don't even know myself anymore. Forgive my inherent pervyness. 

Me: Really now, you're talking to the AUTHOR of Oh Fuck Everything Sounds Dirty. All bets are off. 

And just like that....I wasn't feeling like much of a prude anymore. 

Thursday, October 16, 2014

The Need For New Eyes

You know how they say your twenties are all about finding your roots? Those baffling years when you come home wounded and looking for answers. And somehow miraculously you find them in the place you grew up in, in the turn of a phrase your mother uses....before you know it you are enmeshed in this overwhelming warmth  and a desperate need to cling on to all these things and love them all over again right from the start?

Well that can't happen to me.

Because it's hard to distance yourself from a place you've been living in all your life. Of course I've had some amazing travel experiences.But if you were to graph geography against the number of years in my life it would be a rather flat curve.

It's like living with someone and not noticing them gradually losing/gaining weight. You've lived here all your life so yeah you know the landmark changes like that huge reservoir that got built, the new grocery store..the new mall that came up etc. But you don't quite notice the nuances. Like maybe if I went away for a bit and came back I'd see something that would strike me...you know?

 And that's what really bugs me. That I can't see this with new eyes. I want new eyes (at the risk of sounding like Mad Eye Moody). 

However, I have been in a position to understand this. I've been going to my University for the past 5 years, studying in it, cursing lots of things about it. But I never did once stop and see how beautiful it is....

That Afternoon when the Sun made the waters glisten.


If you look closely, there's a sliver of a moon up there ~sigh~ I'd use the photo in its original glory  here but my blog is behaving like a fastidious Italian fashion designer.

.....and how if I'd just stopped and stayed a little while longer.... I'd hear its stories and not feel like such an outsider. 

It's a bit of a paradox really because I stay so close to the place, I could go there for a walk. But now it means so many other things to me. Instead of recalling all the happenings on campus I can't help but always count all the things I didn't do here.  I didn't stay back and catch up with my class mates after a long day of classes, over a steaming cup of coffee/tea (as is the usual custom), I didn't attend extracurricular clubs (debating and photography would have been my choices), I didn't open up to my professors (it kind of goes on but I'll stop here.You're welcome.) 

Now it's  bitter sweet. My campus tugs at my heart and makes me wonder if it's all just in my head. Maybe if I had a do-over I'd hate the place all over again. 

But I guess what I learnt from this is to always allow your heart to be vulnerable instead of being quick to judge moments we are going through and then hating it and then falling into the hate spiral that some of us know so well. 

And maybe some day I can fly away and know the joy of coming back to old places without regrets.

 Homecoming is always a sweet thing. :)



Friday, September 12, 2014

I'm Doing A Lot Of Things Wrong. But I Have Impeccable Logic On My Side.

My aunt keeps gifting me sarees these days. 

I don't know what to do with them except, stare and admire  like you would at a work of art  at the museum. And she keeps pushing me towards getting the blouses etc done.

 I shrug and say "maybe in the winter." 

Brace Yourself...

So at one point she got a little exasperated and said "don't you want to celebrate your womanhood?!" and I'm like my idea of celebrating my womanhood is not having to wear anything and just lounge around in the summer. Because these are the  tropics y'all. The saree's like the most elegant thing to wear I'm sure but in the summer it's like wannabe hulk gear.

But I listened to my aunt and went for my first blouse fitting..ever. It's supposed to be like a rite of passage...somewhere around your late teens. I've just been very lazy and borrowing my mom's stuff and using makeshift safety pin adjustments to make everything somehow fit.

So this woman started ahem.. measuring me. And then she pointed out that I'm wearing my bra wrong. Seriously. And I'm like really? cause this is how I've been wearing it my whole life. She rolled her eyes at me and muttered "much too loose" and then went on to tighten it. And suddenly I felt like my harmless unassuming underwear was being forced to be something it wasn't. I wanted to be all "hold off Mammy, I am no Scarlett O'Hara and this ain't no corset!" 

But my mom interrupted our fitting session and was a little appalled, because "how many other little things have you been messing up this way? I can't micro manage everything...and how could you ever  feel comfortable in something that loose?! It's like you're defeating the whole purpose of that piece of garment." 

And I'm like woah...calm your jets? And if you really think about it, it's  quite simple. The blouse is a daughter of the almighty bra. And a t-shirt or even a kurti is like a grandma. So it's okay to ahem...let it hang when you're... you know used to wearing the grandma attire. And then my mom just stared at me and the blouse measurement lady looked at me worried. Or maybe she was just sad about living in this weird tight cage for so long, when there was always the option of.. just being comfortable. 

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Part 1: Weekend Getaway to Haldia

This is about that time I had a a really bad week and didn't want to talk about it. And you can relax, I still don't. 

It's just that my bad week thankfully coincided with the weekend that mom,one of her best friends and I decided to travel to the districts. For fun. 

When I told my friends, I was going to Haldia for fun, one half of them made political jokes and the other half would just stare at me baffled and go..."but what's there in Haldia?" So not the best build up before a trip. 

Then we boarded our "Volvo" buses and I could hear birds chirping in my head with the uneasy silence between the three of us. It was shabby. Definitely not what we were expecting. So mom's friend (P) finally decided to address the elephant in the bus and meekly said "er...the make of this bus isn't of the Volvo kind. Maybe a Small-vo.." with a sheepish grin.

The proactive mother had to immediately call our contact person at Haldia, a certain Mr. Sengupta (S.G) to ascertain if there were better options for our way back to Kolkata.S.G said this was the only "luxury bus" available. Moreover, on our way back this bus won't be plying because of some strike... and we could discuss the "options" once we see him. 

I sat back, rested my head against the tattered headrest of the bus, reluctantly (I have cleanliness issues, to put it mildly) and revised my expectations for this trip. More than anything, I was really hoping to clear my mind but right then it felt like a vague possibility. 

S.G  has been living in this place for the last 20 years.  When we thanked him for being so gracious and arranging this whole trip for us, he said "we have a lot of time on our hands around here." I'm not sure if he was being sarcastic about us ("you city dwellers" as he called us) But just hearing that felt good. So I made a mental note to maybe  use "I have a lot of time on my hands" as a conversation ice breaker with acquaintances because that shit is bound to put you at ease. Like yeah, she has a lot of time on her hands...so there's no need to rush things around here. It's okay to chill. That kind of vibe...you know? (Or maybe this is terrible advice, don't take it) 

We asked him about the possible places we could visit from there. I'm thinking Go, On, Sir, prove my friends wrong...pretty please...and there's again that deafening silence. 

Thankfully though P had a whole list of places she'd downloaded "from the internets". Mr. Sengupta(S.G)  shook his head at all of them..."I don't see what you'd want to see there" 


So we ambled along hesitantly in our car post breakfast and here's what there wasn't much to see of: 

A Temple on the grounds of a deserted palace- Mahishadal, West Bengal 
The Deserted Palace- Mahishadal, West Bengal 

Palace adjacent to the deserted palace, apparently we like contrasts.  
This place is teeming with taxidermy, old books, gramophones...
the works! You're not allowed to take pictures though. 
At this point we were rather surprised to find actual places tourists could visit. And P started to tell the palace curator how West Bengal was teeming with wondrous places and how she would be sure to ask her family to visit Tamluk. 

The curator gave a wry smile and said "that's great madam, why don't you ask them to visit this poor palace in Mahishadal as well." 

It's amazing how we know the names of so many obscure places on the world map, places we probably won't be able to visit in a lifetime...and yet our geographies get so messed up when it comes to these great spots waiting patiently to be discovered on extended weekends. This reminds me of how I get with  distant relatives on Facebook...I know them by my idea of them...a nickname or a blank placeholder. On Facebook they use their real names,  a friend request from them and I'm always like...who are you? I don't know you. Oh wait, you're So and so's husband. Right. Sorry my bad.

~~~

There was  a procession in Tamluk 

Color, Noise, Paper and A Whole Lot of Gaping. 


They had some mad beats. I have no idea what dude in the brown shirt 
is doing and why he's making weird faces at my mom who has taken this picture. 
I don't know what they were celebrating, but there were little boys and girls dressed as Gods, Goddesses, brides and they passed by too fast for me to enquire. It was the independence day weekend though. So, maybe this is their quirky homage to our nation. 

After another stop at a temple, it was lunch time.  I had a bit of an incident. Mom really wanted to get the "local flavour" and try some fish in these random cooking shacks. I wasn't very opposed to the idea myself.  But the smell of that place hit me out of nowhere and I couldn't eat.  Which was absolutely fine except our driver felt so terrible about it that I wanted to go back in time and stuff my face with food just to stop him from sulking. 

But we were already off to another obscure place...Gyeonkhali,this time... the confluence of the rivers Hooghly, Rupnarayan and Damodar. 

We stopped at a restaurant. (The driver was very relieved.) However, they didn't have any food... shops, restaurants everything shuts down at 1 p.m in the districts. But the driver didn't have to know. 

I got me some chilled Thums Up instead and had my pretend lunch in a mostly deserted room.... with a view. 



Gyeonkhali, West Bengal. 
It became a guessing game: which country are  the ships  
coming in from. You can tell from their names and the more obvious hint of the flag. 

Thus, ends part 1 of this trip. 

I realise that this was meant to be a blog post about our weekend getaway to Haldia and not one of these places are in Haldia. At this point I'm thanking my lucky stars I'm not a travel writer. 

Let's talk about Haldia in Part 2 which hopefully happens...or doesn't...no rush,  no pressure.  ( Because this is a safe space, a laze around as much as you want space and more importantly a me- space. And Peace is of primary importance here. )

My work and  life in general right now... is all about delivering and seeing end to end completion of every bit of task handed out to me...It's annoying, tedious and I'm always unprepared. Of course,  I get that it's not very adult of me to complain about this. But posting something that might be left  unfinished  feels like a glorious aberration and I shall partake in this tiny ceremony, guilt-free.