A good day

Almost a week back, the room mate and I had a rare, good day. This is why...

1. We both bunked our respective jobs. There is something about breaking rules. The temporary superiority, that you are above an established system, is a different high altogether. Yes, thats how sad my life is :/

2. We executed a plan. That was made several afternoons ago. Now, we make a lot of plans. Full fledged, google mapped, solid plans. But then laziness prevails and all we do is eat cereals and watch youtube. So, walking exactly 23 minutes, in the hot sun, just to eat something that was bland as hell, serves as a bigtime ego boost. If I want it, I can do it. Huh.

3. We ate out. Yayyy !!!! This does not even need to be justified. Yes, it was salad. It was bland, and grass like, and not very filling, and the waitress messed up the bill, and a little kid dropped juice all over the place...but stop complaining, will you?

4. We discovered a cool new hanging out place. By accident that too. We were so demotivated with the food, we did'nt even want to walk back. So we just hung around. And there, in the midst of nowhere, was a little wood like plank, that went right into the river. You could sit on it, and hang your legs, and read a book or sing forgotten songs by the shade of the tree, with the river flowing right beneath you, bringing little stuff with herself, stuff that belonged to someone, somewhere, before it passed them by...

5. We talked. And laughed. For no reason. Whats good about that you may ask? Well, its a big deal when you can discuss the same old work, research, family, money and men or the lack of both :P, over and over again and not be bored! We surprised ourselves by deeply philosophising * one moment, and gossiping true blue girl style the next.

6. We went to the farmer's market. Which is soooo much better than labelled departmental stores. Remember the line "Is this a class or a fish market? " Well... my class would be proud to be called a American fish market, so silent and spotless it is. Blah. Now, this was how it should be. Yes, its dirty, and a bit smelly, and wet with mud, and the vegetables and fruits almost spilled over from the racks, and nothing was where it should be, but come on, that is what i always knew a market to be !!! I loved it and cat wait to be back.

7. We had a pineapple. I cannot cut a pineapple. I assumed no one else but my mother can. And hence, denied myself the pleasure. But praise to Allah, Jesus, Bhogoban, Andromeda galaxy,whoever... my roomie can !!!!! Now all I am gonna have all summer are succulent cubes of yellow deliciousness with salt and sugar and red mirchi all over it ! Tangy bliss. Bring it on :D

The fact that the sun shone harsher when we perspired 23 minutes back, and that the heavy farmer's stuff almost dislodged our limbs, and that as we fell on our beds, promising never to go back to the dirty, dingy place again....is another story altogether. And an unnecessary one.

Because go again we will. Very soon at that.

*- I made it up. My blog, my rules. Big deal.

Khyalar Patro

Chotobyalar theke jotobaar she oi dokaan ta r samne diye jaye, shoto byastota-r moddhyeo kicchukhon opekkha kore. samne-r showcase ei putul ta shajano. kNokRa sonali chule chotto golapi phool, hNatu lomba jama ta bodhoy silk er. paye aNto sNato moja r songe belt lagano juto. gol gol gaal e halka laal abha. mukhe mishti hashi. chokh er neel moNi ta surje-r alo te thikre othe.

putul ta-ke bhalobashar tar bishesh kon karoN chilo na. kintu roj hNata pothe, putul ta-r mon bholano hashi dekhei tar jibon obhyosto hoye uthechilo. ashe pashe aro onek, pray ek i rokom, emonki aro onek lobhonio khyalna-r majhe, putul ta i sob cheye beshi akorshoNio hoye othe tar kache. ekla dupure, nisshongo khyala-e she mone mone putul ta r shonge kotha koy, hashe, ador kore.

she opekkha kore kobe swopner putul shottyi tar khyalar sathi hobe.

bochor kete jaye. tar ekhon putul khyalar ichche nei. ichche thakleo, boyesh ki aar ache? she ekhon boRo meye bole kotha. boRo meyeder onek kichu korte nei. tai she mon diye tar notun, khub i adhunik, bidesh theke mejo mama-r pathano puzzle er somadhan khNujte byasto. mon ta majhe majhei paRa-r dokanta e uNki maare, kintu eto bochor er obichar o obhimaan e she o monke kothin bhabe bNedhe rekheche. eto bochor hoye gyalo....keu i ki kichui bojhena?

choto kaka-r songei hath dhore school e jeto she, she ki ekbaro bojheni? protibar pujo te thakur er kache sref ekti i abedon koreche bochor er por bochor...mati-r thakur ki tahole asholei matir? joljole chokh duto diye je putul ta take protidin dyakhe, putul er mone kokhono omanushik ichche jage na tar mane?

aajke tar jonmodin. sondhye byala cake, luchi, payesh kheye sobai fire gyache. roNg choNge, koRmoR awaj kora kagoj e moRa ek ekta upohaar khulte thake she. golper boi, pencil box, teddy bear, roNg pencil, koto kii...sobar sheshe, oprottashito bhabei, putul ta beriye ashe. ke diyeche, kono naam nei...

hothath paoar anonde she ki bolbe, kake bolbe kichui bojhe na. diirgho chepe rakha hashi aar kanna dui i tar gaal e cholke othe, she chup kore nijer dotana nijei onubhob korar cheshta kore. she ei aashirbaad mone mone paoar onek prarthona koreche, kintu she je aaj boRo hoye gyache. putul er bhalobasha, sobar ogochore, sobar upore tule rakha chaRa aar kono kichui je she korte parbe na!

sobai sob bojhe. bujheo je kyano eto deri kore?

Du:shwopno

Sokal byala osomapto ghum er abdar thele diye class e ashar pokkhe ektai karon ebong setai jotheshto. S.

Protidiner moto aaj o sobar aage class e pouche, janlar thik pasher seat ta-e bag gNuje, she opekkha kore ek size boRo jeans e gNoja, adha botam khola halka neel roNger shirt er upor ek din purono daRi aar na aNchrano jhNakra chul wala mukh ta. hathe dhora pen ta aNgul er fNake kromagoto ghorate ghorate, mukher alto hashir songe taal miliye egiye aste thaka manush ta-r. ei to, class shuru howar aager adh ghonta i ja paona. sara din to aar tiki ta milbena. etai tar sombol, etai tar pNuji. emnitei aar ko mash por college shesh, tar por ke kothay, ke jane...shesh mesh ki tai hobe? canteen e bosha baaki sob golpo gulor motoi???

S ta asche na. dhut bhalo lage na. adh ghonta-r theke pNaach minute uDe gyalo. hath er golper boi ta ke aar opoman na kore she ekebare rastaye chokh lagiyei boshe. gun gun kore hothath i geye othe. nah, eder upor ekdom bhorsha kora chole na. phone e bollo berochche, etokkhon lage jana chilo na baba...ki jyano gaaaner porer line ta? chokh ta firiye ney. cheye thaklei to aar eshe porbe na...

"shayad fir is janam mein, mulakaat ho na ho..lag jaa gale...se...."

Ei din er por teen bochor periye gyache. dyakha aar hoyni. suneche Chennai er kon college e MBA korche. bole to chilo, aar jai koruk, management korbe na. boshsho she to aro koto kothai bolechilo, tai na? USA jabe, ki sob course korbe, tar por chakri peye, take o niye...jak ge, bad dao osob kotha. she sob theke miss kore canteen ta, jekhane tader moto aro jona doshek table e tader motoi coffee-r cup ke chumuk dite dite, thik tader motoi, sobai bhabto, tarao alada. canteen er thik pechone ekta pachil chilo. uthte parle, bohuduur dyakha jeto. fNaka math, ekta chotto gram, boye jaoa shanto nodii. tar mone hoto byasto doinondin jibone-r majhkhane, tar bhalobasha ta eirokom i...sposhto, kintu shitol. subidhebadi, mitthyechari jogoter theke bichchinno, ekta chotto nirob, ghumiye thaka gram. sobai pachil er upor theke dyakhe, kintu pouchote pare na.

shopnorajyo kodin aar thake? bairer jogot sudhu pouchoy-i ni, ekebare dhoNgsho kore diyeche. she eka eka dNariye dekheche tar sob sMriti -r jolte thaka hahakar, sob biswash er puRte thaka kolorob...ki awaj, ki dhakka !!! Dhakka?

"Ei, kire..oth...eshe gechi to"

"Eto deri korli kyano?"

"Are, omelete khacchilam. jani late hobe, tui kyalabi, but omelete ki aar roj dey, bol?"

Jodi bojhar hoto, she sedin i bujhe jeto.

its not Mother's Day

So its been what, about ten days since Mother's Day? What fun we had no? With all lovey dovey status messages for the mothers, who are not even on facebook, and for the ones who are, must have been shell shocked at seeing "I love you mom" rather than "its raining today, must have rub it in your face pakodas" or say "I hate my life, will someone cry with me and kiss my ass" or even better "I broke up with my girl friend and she cried, oh i am so cool" wala statuses. Don't laugh, even you had put that picture with your mother in it...ok ok, so had I.

But then again, they are mothers, they will probably go gaga with delight if we as much look at them and smile. No, they do not know the smile is actually because you are recalling the phone conversation that happened last night, or wait, maybe they do. Maybe they are just happy that in todays suicidal zamana, their kids are smiling. What blessings from above !

The worst however, is that we know. We know how less it takes for us to make the woman who loves us the most, truly, sincerely happy. You can have pimples on your face, you can wear mismatched socks, you can smell like a pig, you can shave off your hair.... rest assured there is one, one face that will always search for you in a crowd, always think of you in her busiest moments, always worry about you even when you are fifty. Heck, I think even Bill Gates's mom asks him what he had for dinner every night. If he picks up the phone, that is.

I dont have a bloody choice. My mother calls me, hmm... at least thrice a day. And of course, because I know when the next call is going to be, I am rude, insensitive, always busy, irritable... knowing that "arre maa hi to hai, where will she go? she will call only no..". My friends often ask me how is it that I talk to my mother the way I do? Well, I dont know. I take her very much for granted, and I think she has made her peace with that. And I guess, she takes a quiet pride in knowing that all my day's frustrations are seen and heard only by her. You know, special treatment.

My mother is my best friend (oh well!), my living closet of secrets, my conscience, my one and only shade under the sun, my only caller whose phone I can bang down with confidence and not worry about it, because it rings right back :), the only one whose lies I believe in, the only source of hope when the world gets too real, the only person I am scared of, because, one, she can see right through skype's bad bad video connection, and two, because she thinks i am a good girl, and who would want to break that trust, no?

But I hate you Maa. Because you make me want to be like you. And that is not easily happening.

Split Into One

Science or Literature- Literature.
Biryani or Fuchka- Fuchka. Thrice a day.
Asha or Lata- Lata
Holmes or Feluda- Byomkesh :)
Dylan or Chandril- Chandril. yes, I am culturally backward like that.

So you see, my life is pretty much demarcated with very strong likes and dislikes, with a few overlaps. But they are rare, quite rare. The only goddamn time I face an identity crisis is when people, who dont know anything about me, or well, maybe trying to know a bit of me, asks...

"Bombay or Calcutta"- I DONT KNOW !!!!!

Aami ekkebare pasher baRi-r meye ta. tomar rannaghore koDai te mach bhaja-r dhNoya ta obogga kore ektu uNki mere dyakho, dekhbe ami shoto shoto awaj ke buRo angul dekhiye, anondomyala poRchi. Chotka-r "Boudiii, amar pajama ta ki abar kachte diyechen?" theke Dadu-r radio "ajker bishesh bishesh khobor holo" theke Baba-r "Ki go, chaa holo?" theke pasher baRir Tinni-r mayer, kajer meyer shonge nittonoimitto jhogRa theke Dr. Ghosh er clinic er pashe telebhajar chYaNk! theke tank er theke kolkol kore jol bheshe jaoa theke, adho ondhokare jhNi jhNi pokar daak theke, bNaash bone sheyal er huNkar (huNkar thik noy, but oi ondhokare jokhon keu kothao nei aar loadshedding hoyeche, tokhon bhoy na pele kaan kete fele debo) theke, moshari shoto bhalo kore gNoja shotteo moshar binbin binbin hashi thele, duuur theke bheshe asha chitrahar er dui sumodhur koli theke, raat dupure "Chor , Chor ke kothay achish siggiri lathi niye aaye" theke, saat sokale kagoj bili kora kaku-r cycle er ting ting theke school bus e hero der naam ke kota mukhosto bolte pare theke, off period e kanakani, fishfish theke, dupure Maa ghumole churi kore achar khaoa theke, paati ice cream ala-r thik kyamon mone nei, kintu oti prio ekta bajna theke, L238 bus e conductor er "Manicktola, B-Garden" chitkar theke, Belur Moth er shanto nistobdota theke, Tumpa aar Riju-r khunsuti bhora goromer chuti theke, Asche Bochor Abar Hobe-r kanna paoa bidaay theke, Howrah station e kuli, aar Howrah bridge er tolay bheshe jaoa bashi ful er hahakar theke, Suman er "Gaanwala" theke robibaar er niyomkore kosha maNgsho theke "Ei janish, Baba-r Bombay transfer hoye gyache" porjonto....thik kore dyakho, ami ekhono janlar pashe boshe anondomyala pore jachci. poRei jachchi.

But tell me? do you know what fun it is to ride an open horse, drip your entire shirt with brown gola juice, eat bhelpuri untill your eyes water with tanginess, and just sit still on the beach and watch the sun go down. And know, that the day has just started. Do you know the entire point of going to tution was to have the vada pav, kaanda daal ke from Jumbo King, (and to ogle at ahem ahem of course)? No you dont. It comes with practice. You get up at 6, yes bleeeedy 6, in the morning, but no regrets haan, cos you know, ahem ahem awaits you the class, and if you are lucky, maybe in Santacruz station only. But all is secondary to the radio wala auto. thats the way a din should start. A bumpy ride to the station, with bollywood for company. With this anticipation you sway from the train, bilkul dhinchak style, hair flying, bag hanging, never minding that by the time you get down you are looking like a bhoot. No wonder such bad lucks with all ahems. Then you rush to the lovely school, the mandatory college, more gossip, more fun, more dhoom dhamaka. All you have to do in stand and stare. The busy ness will get to you and infect you so bad youwill never have a silent bone in your body hence. The traffic, the lights in the shops, the ever chirping buddha buddhis in the nana nani park, the falling, geting up, again falling children, hell, even the doctors clinic seems like a mela. "accha yaha ka thepla jyada accha hai? nahi nahi, you should go to Big Bazaar, sale chalu aahet !",the random filmstar sightings, the hawwwww when you realise the bhaiyya-didi next door are living in and are not married, the Morya Re sung with such passion you feel you were a marathi all your life, the mouth hanging, eyes popping diwali crackers, the kaju katlis, the floods, the size zero obsession, the ye pakka Dubai se laya hai maals, the stern eyes of the naval guards, the rich and the famous going jogging, the waves lapping at their feet, and taking it all away with just one freaking bomb. Life is indeed like the ride at chowpatty.

"ek heech jagah par gol gol ghumta hai, par har baar sala kuch naye rang dikhata hai"

Tell me, konta ke choose korbo? Choose kora ki jaye. Duto durokom bhabe amake toiri koreche. Dutoi aami. e pith aar o pith. actually, du pith ei dutoi ache, mile mishe ekakar. aar to alada kore kichui bachar nei. kono option i nei. thakte pare na.

Oh, and yes, I absolutely will forever refuse to call them Mumbai or Kolkata. the authorities can hang themselves from Dwitio Hoogly Setu or Bandra-Worli Sealink, like I care !!!

Amar kichu kotha chilo....

sob kotha sobaike bola jayna. kichu kichu lokkei bola jay. na bola porjonto mone hoy rastar jake take dhore sei kotha gulo sonai. kintu tader konomotei bola jayna.

kichu kichu kotha bolte hoyna. seta na bolleo, jar bojhar she ek muhurtei bujhe jay, jar na bojhar she konodin i bojhe na. sutorang, ei to bojhanor cheshta korchi, kichudinei bujhe jabe, seta asha kora britha.

kichu kichu kotha thake, jegulo nijeke bola sob theke kothin. sei kotha jokhon onno keu chokhe angul diye bojhate chay, mone hoy di sala dui chor mere. sahosh to kom na, amake gyaan dite eseche.

kichu kotha bolar onek cheshta korechi. na, cheshta korar kotha bhebechi. kintu oi, sabdhane theko tuku i bolte perechi. er aage bolte badhe. kyano? shunle je kharap lagbe na she bishwash amar ache. tobu kyano?

kichu kichu kotha moner anache kanache, na lekha chithite ghore fera kore. tomake dekhlei, tara mukhe hashi, aar chokhe jhilik hoyei thake. je kotha dyakha jaye, she kotha na bollei ba khoti ki?

kichu kichu kotha sudhu tomakei bola chole. but jotodin bolte na para jay, ei sob kothai bole jabo, jar konoi mane nei.

jobe bolte parbo, jodi bolte pari, hoyto dekhbo bolar kichui nei. tumi to janoi, tai na?

Invisible

Dhut..ajkal kichui bhalo lage na. jodio ei kothata ami protidin niyom kore ek baar boli, aar tar sathe porer line e boli "baRi jabo".... sutorang ami dhorei niyechi keu i amay seriously ney na. mane ei je amar bhalo lagche na, tate kar ki? khNoj niye dekhechi, sobar i bhalo na lagar bohuut karon ache. karur research er tikto obhiggota, to karur boyfriend er shonge aNri, to keu club politics niye matha gorom kore ghurche...sobai byasto, sobai dukhi. aajkal sobai "hello" bole emon bhabe, dekhle pitti ulte ashe. aar sob theke kharap khobor, jokhon tara amay tader mon kharap korar justification dite ashe, amar mathay cholte thake, "uff abar shuru holo nake kanda, mor ge ja, amar ki?" khub i dukkher sathe sottyi kotha ta bollaam. kintu sottyi bollam.

tai thik korechi karur shonge kotha bolbo na. sutorang ami ekhon"invisible".

aajke campus e keu asheni. keu mane, oi 2-3 jon bondhu-bandhob-bandhobi jara ache. to khete khete besh ekta chinta korar somoy paoa gyalo. onek bhablam, janlar bairer brishti, neeche gaRir chole jaoa, ebong undergrad der dhupdhap haNta oboggya kore. kyano, ajker ultra connectivity r juge, kotha bolar, kotha bojhar karur kono lok nei?

onek, na onek na, ei minute 10 ek por, bujhlam gondogol ta kothay. kichudin aage A, S'r somporke bollo "S khub bhalo, ami ja boli sob kotha shone". besh. N bollo, "C er moto bondhu hoy na, amar sob photo like kore". bojha gyalo. M bollo, "B ta lokkhi meye, or moto amay keu bojhe na". sobai bhalo, sobai anupom, jotokkhon tara amar photo, amar kotha, amar chinta, amar poRte thaka chul ebong baRte thaka ojon ke ekbakkye somorthon korche. jotokkhon she amar hyan te hyan melabe, she amar prio bondhu, amar chhayasongi, amar jokher dhon. je din se amar birudhdhe daRiye, tar nijer mot prokashe ichchuk hoye othar dushahosh korbe, se din se amar keu noy. take dekhe mukh ghorate amar 1 din er beshi lagbe na, samnasamni poRle just ekta boka boka hashi, aar kromagoto prarthona kore jaoa je she amar choritrer je kalo onGsho tuku jene gyache, ta jyano tar kachei siimaboddho thake.

eta onek kaal holoi bujhe gechi. tai kalo bhaag ta amar moner modhhei roye jaye. sobaike sref ghosha maja, oti ujjol, oporaNsho tuku dyakhai. din ke din kalo amar moddhe joma hochhe. bhablam, lukiyei jokhon rakhbo, bhalobhabei lukoi. aajkal raag korina, jhogRa korina, kotha katakati korina. kono jhamelate i ami nei. jhamela-walader bondhu thake na. bondhu na thaka ta bipojjonok.

tomar bondhu ache? thik jano? tobe tumi invisible kyano?