Aamin

Aamin Mondal (as i later knew his name was) : Didi, didi, money money, please, money...

Me : What? money? why?

AM: I kept your shoe safe, see here it is.

Apparently, he had saved me from lurking thieves who would like nothing better than to steal my shoe. For all of you who have seen the pair, it would be a good thing for me to have it stolen so I would finally get a new one. But that was not to be, as Aamin had kept it tucked safely between his legs. His intention however, was far from innocent. He used his cute facednes as a ploy to usurp money from others who visited the temple. I was another such victim.

Months of living in a country where such hardship lathered cuteness is hard to find, have however, taught me to look behind the obvious. I looked at his oversized blue jacket, probably the only one to survive the Kolkata cold, in the pavements below the bridge. Alone. With his group of friends. All now bickering for the ten Rupees note in AM's hands.

Me: Oye, you are all supposed to share this..

AM: ohhh...if you are so concerned, why dont you give me more eh?

Me: yeah right, then tomorrow I will have to ask you for money.

AM: Say what? give me that song thing you have ( referring to the pink mp3 in my hand, so guys like pink...hmmmm)

Me: you wont even know half the songs in here..

AM: O madam, even I know englis.

Me: Acchha?? you go to school?

AM: you dont believe me? come come, ill show my school to you...

Me: all of you go there?

AM's friend (female, very sweet, will grow up to be a killer): arre dont listen to him, he will take your money and eat gutkha...

Me: you dont like gutkha? or do you?

AM's friend : we all love it. even he. (pointing at the smallest kid in the group, who now smiles guiltily)

Me : but thats not good is it?

AM: Didi, nothing in our life is. You just give me another ten bucks and go. Go home.

Me : ........

There are very few instances in life where I dont talk back. There are even fewer people who can render me speechless. For this reason alone, if not for anything else, that I will always remember AM. Probably go back to the temple again, to talk to AM again, to partake in their stained lives, to feel oh i am so cool, i can talk to roadside kids without any hesitation, to feel the small glitch in my heart when the helplessness hits me and I realise how lucky I am to have a home.

As of now, I can do nothing. Except for write a blog.

jet unlagged

so..i reached home last night. i was anxious while in Newark, tensed at the airport, hungry in the flight (food in Continental sucks), awed to see a horizontal rainbow while flying above the clouds, very tired after the landing...

Excited about coming home? no. zero. zilch.

As the 'o my God, i am emotionaly drained' paranoia set in, i seeked alternate explanations for my lack of feeling. maybe its because i practically dont live in the USA, i live in Harrison, which as everyone knows, is a messier, dirtier, more concise version of India itself. Or maybe bcos its not even a year since i left. Or that i had met my parents in summer. Or probably (this is a very long shot), i had just given my Molbio paper, and i was too exhausted for any feeling...

But nothing made sense. As i spotted an older dad and a thinner mom, and after the customary exclamations about my loss in weight ( what lies, my jeans are proof), i practically threw in the luggage and fixed my eyes outside through the window of the car. Maybe, revisiting the places i grew up in would stir my dead emotions. Would you believe it, i even hummed "ye jo des hai mera, swades hai mera" for a minute waiting for the eyes watering, chokiness that should have overpowered me by now. oh come on......

Then i figured. i was not Shah Rukh Khan's heroine. i was not Karan Johar's either. i do not dance around in chiffon sarees when it snows, i do not go jogging in Central Park, i can never manage to not spill coffee while i walk ( i have tried, believe me), i do not have the luxury of crying over a heartbreak on Brooklyn Bridge. i lack a scripted life. i cannot be expected to get straight As, be stick thin, fall in love, and sing for my country at the same time. na na.

So when after a year of surviving on ramen noodles, subway and samosa paav,God bless the cart wallah, i come back to the secure confines of home, all i feel is relief.

That nothing has changed. Bombay is still hot, still pleasant, still trafficky, and although still punctuated by terror alerts, the mornings still sees a crowd of fisher-women with their hair adorned with fresh flowers, the bus driver in a rare mellow mood, the already busy vada pav stalls in Churchgate, joggers smiling their way through excreta of various kinds, a dog scrutinising left overs at Chowpatty, students grumbling over tution classes, wondering if going to Siddhivinayak would yield better grades, the everything market at Colaba, a couple sneaking behind Band stand, the water lapping over Haji Ali, from the sun feebly trying to climb over a heavy spread of fog to the queen's lavish necklace in Marine Drive....I am relieved my home is just as how i had seen it last.

In the midst of the silent humbleness, I miss Harrison. I miss the bridge, with the wind creating ripples in the water, i miss not looking for the stop sign when i cross the roads, i miss the gossip in the campus centre, i miss the mess i have made out of my room, and also the comfort of independence that i have achieved, i miss the cold blast of air that hits my face the moment i step out, i miss the very few friends i have there....

But then i look at the sky, and i see the odd shaped moon, the same one here, the same one there. And finally, i come to believe, wherever i am, i will always be at home.

Songs? Anyone?

A Farewell

when its dark outside and the noise is driving u crazy,
when every breath seems to confirm your final fear;
when at the end of the road, thers no glint of hope,
when every thought is discarded by lifes indecision,

all you need is me,
i know all you need is me..

look back to see my eyes on you,
look back to see the smiles,
think back to feel the touch, the smell,
the love in all its disguise..

you'll know all you need is me,
i hope all you need is me...

when silent stares are all you get,
when the hidden tears remain unseen,
when the confession hurts more than the honest mistake,
when the world's out to prove that you are wrong...

a hand will reach out for you strength,
a heart will still believe in you,
and when you get to see that faith,
without the lurking fear you'll know;

you'll know all you need is me,
y do i feel all you need is me?

you can reach out, and i may not come,
you can search, but i may hide,
in some other world, some other time,
you know im there beside...

but for now, my love, let this be it,
let the mystery be unsolved...
for the sake of the true lies that we lived,
let our stories be untold...

Obhyash

Bagane ekta togor gaach. sheta te shiit, grishwo, borsha, shara bochor chotto chotto shada phool fNote. niyomiito. emon kono din nei, jobe janala diye mukh baRiye ek jhNaak togor phool ke matha dolate dyakha jayeni. kharap o lage na. bhalo o lage na. baganer shobha emon kichu baReo na. sada matha phool, temon gondho o choRaye na. loke dekheo na dyakha kore dey.

Togor gach ta jyano kibhabe bujhte pare, tar kodor khub beshi na. tai she chupti kore janalar neech er chaya ghera jayga ta-e dNariye thake. she maali-r kache ador, jotno, bhalobasha, kichui asha kore na. she jaane, golaap, joba, dahlia, chondromollika der tulonaaye, she onek onek neeche. she tai niye matha ghamaye na. jak ge. baRir bou ti je nityo din pujo-r phool tolar somoy ek gaal heshe tar dikei ashbe, ei kotha mone kore she roj phool fNutiye jaye. ek din o bhool kore na.

Maali ta tar bagaan niye jar por nai gorbito. shara paRaye emon bagan ko khana ache. Babu ke diye boliye boliye shaar aniyeche. Babu muk kore bote, tobe phool dekhe bahoba o dey. ki shobha tar phool er. teen teen ronger golaap, jNui, chNapa, iyya boRo boRo gNyada... ki nei tar bagane. kopal dosh e jedin kono phool i fNote na, togor ta to achei. din din shukiye jachche gaach ta. jak ge jak. togor thaklei ba ki, na thaklei ba ki. byabostha hobe khon...

Bagaan e boshonto ashe. jyano mati te ramdhonu fNuteche. projapoti ta thik korte parche na kon dike jabe. baRi-r boRo chele-r photo tolar shokh. she khotash khotash chobi tulche. tar bon rong pencil tuli niye sondhya obdhi bagane. golaap er shonge rong na melale tar aar cholche na... e hyano byastota Togor gaach daRiye daRiye dyakhe. kichui bole na.

koyek mash jaye. baRite pujo.

phool tulye eshe dyakha jaye, e bochor shiuli ta kom. ja poReche, take diye kichui hobe na. gNyada gaach gulor thik pashe bishal boRo ek bolta-r chaak. golaap gaach e aaj shudui kNata. Joba diye ki aar pujo hoy? Dahlia cheRe kar sadhyo? ei ko mashe baaki phool der joubon shesh. ki kora? Shada phool chai je...

Togor gaach dyakhe, ebaar sobai tar dikei cheye. she kichui bole na. ebaar shudhui opekkha...

Obhyash bhanganor.

khyala

tar chotto chotto hath pa dekhe keu bujhbe na, tar ki oshiim khomota. gol gol chokh gulo takush tukush, edik odik takaye, aar mathaye ohoroho dushtu buddhi ghore. ekbaar jodi kichu korbe bole thik korlo, to byas...aar jaye kothaye? kokhono khilkhil kore heshe uthche, kokhono abar bina karone osrupaat. kichu jiggesh korle, bole o na, shone to na i.

tobu take mathaye kore rakha hoy. she jokhon jeta hukum kore, bina bakkobyay e hajir kora hoy. bujhi ei kore kore i tar ashpordha beRe choleche. aage tobu ektu adhtu chokh raNgale, majhe sajhe duto mishti gaan gaile, tar mon bhijto. ekhon? sref obogga. e hyano opomaan sotteo, baRi shuddho lok tar kothatei othe boshe.

she bhalobashe sudhu khyala korte. shei khyala, jar kono matha nei, mundu nei, naam nei. bibhinno putul, ghor baRi, phol-phool, majhe sajhe jol, kokhono abar poka makoR, ki nei tar dol e? tar khyalar niyom she morji moto bhaNge, morji moto goRe. baki shongi ra maniye ney.

putul gulo r je koshto hoy na ta na. dhoro duto putul er khub bhaab. jei eta tar chokh e poRlo, dilo duto ke alada bakshe bondi kore. tarpor dhoro ekta phool jotno kore tar pasher kuRi ti ke agle rekheche, dilo emon taan, phool- kuRi shob hapish. jol niye khelche, bhalo kotha, nije bhijcho, bhejo, sobbai ke nakani-chobani khaoanor ki dorkar baba? tar por khelna gaRi. uff....gaRi gulo ke ek sathe thik kore chalano jaye, eta jyano she janei na. jotokkhon na duRum daRum kore ektar ekta upor na uthe jaye, she haal chaRe na. setai naki moja !

khelnar dol bohubaar thik koreche, ei obichaar er birodhita na korlei noy. tobu bojhoi to, putul gulo ek kotha bole, to haRi-koRa bNeke boshe. gaaRi-ghoRa bole hyan, to baagan bole na. aar amader babumoshai ke paye ke? er kotha take, tar kotha eke. shob nijeder moddhyey loRe more. byas...aar kono bhoy i nei. :-)

ei kore din jaye. onek din gyache. aro onek din jabe. she khyala thamabe na.

She Bhogoban bole kotha.

Agomoni

aar baro-tero din. tar porei Durga Pujo. er samne aar kichui matha tule daRate pare na. kokhonoi na.

chotobyalaye Ma bolto, kono kharap howa manei, samne bhalo asche. ami tokhon Ma-r shob kotha shuntam kina, tai eta monepraNe bishwash kortam. shei somoy "kharap" ta chilo porikkha, aar "bhalo" ta chilo Pujo. protibaar half yearly porikkha shesh hote na hotei Durga Pujo-r chuti shuru hoye jeto. porikkha dite ditei kolpona kortam, ei chuti kikore katano hobe, kon kon pandel e ghora hobe, ke ke baRite ashbe, kar kota jama holo, aar sobar upore, ki ki khaoa hobe tar list. tar shonge obosshoi pujabarshiki Anondomela.

tokhon pujor din e shokkal shokkal ful kuRote jetam. baRite ekta laal jhuRi chilo. aar bagane ekta shiuli gaach. ghum theke uthe dekhtam uthon moy sada aar komola roNger choRachoRi. gaach ta ke dhore naRa dile, toptop baaki ful gulo jhoRe jeto, aar shei shonge haath, mukh bhore jeto shishir e. ki sundor ekta gondho thakto charidike. shei ful diye, khub shokh hole mala banatam majhe sajhe.

er moddhyei rannaghor theke luchi bhaja r gondho ashto. kon gondho ta beshi bhalo, ful er na luchi-r, eta bola shokto. tobe dutoi pujo-r gondho. luchi -r shonge hoy cholar daal, noy alur dom, noy begun bhaja. bNode ba ledikeni ba jilipi :-) ei diye shokaal shuru hole to din emni i bhalo kaate, bolo? tokhon tv te chuti -chuti dyakhar dhum chilo. ekhon bachchader binodon-er shonge tulonaye hoyto go haran harbe, kintu nirbhejal moja chilo nonte-fonte, betaal, thakuma-r jhulir golpo gulo te.

ei shob er moddhyey pishi-r meye, Tumpa-r probesh ebong totkhonat, "bonu, shaRi poRe aye, amra khelbo" r aadesh. shaRi poRa amar kokhonoi roche na. tai ami sorbokkhon chele sajtam. bajare jetam. mane bagane. boRo boRo pata tule antam. Tumpa shei pata gulo cough syrup er botoler dhakna diye kete sobuj roNger ruti banato. tar shonge rannaghor theke shak sobji-r khosha. hoye gyalo putul-er khaoa. :-)

dupur byala ei bata, oi bata, ei ghonto, oi choRchoRi, ei mach, oi maNgsho diye jake bole bhoj. ki kore oto tingtinge roga chilam tokhon ke jane?

khaoa r porbo mitte na mittei shuru hoto, ajke ki jama poRe Thakur dekhte jaoa hobe? pochondoshoi fulchaap jama ta hole ekta Thakur kom dekhleo khoti nei. kintu oi mashi, shei pishi diyeche, na poRle kharap dyakhaye gocher jama holei shob pondo. tar shonge notun juto, aar mathaye hair-band. shaaj complete. ebaar beronor pala. train hok, bus hok, porer dike metro, tar o pore taxi, bigoto du bochor holo gaaRi, kore shei Barasat theke kothaye na beRate gechi amra. teen din Thakur dyakha to noy, gota Kolkata choshe beRano. tar upor abar Baba-r dhomkani, "bol to, kota Thakur dyakha holo?", ore baba, ekta miss hole aar rokkhe nei. kicchukhon por mone hoto, kokhon baRi firbo. eto haNta, eto bhiR kromosho oshojjo hoye uthto. pandel-er bhetore du minute, line e adh ghonta. kono mane hoy? tar majhei abar er baccha hariyeche, tar shalli okhane daRiye ache...brishti hole abar notun jutor dofarofa...

raat e baRi fire, alu sheddho bhaat ( shorir e kulole, ghee, lonka, pNeyaaj sohojoge), kheye bichanaye poton.

tokhon light er bahar, phuchka-r jhaal, aar Oshur er gayer noNgra roNg tai sudhu kheyal kore dekhtam, shiuli tulechi, ektu kalo thakle dur kore fele diyechi, Baba bolche, aar ekta dekhei fire jabo, ami line e daRiyei ghume dhole poRechi, train e jhalmuRi ala kaku ke onayashe obogga korechi, Maa ke bolechi, amader baRite cable tv nei kyano? keu laal roNger jama dile almaRir shesh tak e thele diyechi...patta diy ni kichukei.

ebaar Durga Pujo kyamon hobe ami janina. na shiuli ful ache, na dhaak, na dhunuchi. na mon matano pandel ache, na mike theke bheshe asha notun gaan er kolahol, na maa-r hather naRu ache, na Oshesh er iyya boRo pantua. okhane thakle, hoyto boltam, dhur ami ebar Thakur dekhte jabo na. oi bhiR bhatta aar poshaye na. kintu ami to okhane nei, tai monta okhanei poRe ache.

tobu, khaoar list ta ami baniyei rekhechi. bola to jayna, Maa jokhon tokhon eshe poRbe :-)

3/25

ko din age, professor amake ek taRa khata dilen. MCQ, matro 25 ta. ami sobai ke shuni kannakaati kore, "aar bolish na, khata dekhte hobe", amar to sottyi bolte ki, besh laglo. jodio amio maa ke phone e bolechi, "tumi aar ki bujhbe, etto khata dekhte hocche", moner kothaye jyano ekta odbhut bhalolaga, aha...ami kotoi na boRo hoye gechi.

chotobyalaye, amar ek dida ke dekhtam khata dekhte, tarpor dhoro school er madam ra, tader proti shei boyoshe ekta sundor bhalobasha thake, tara jai bolen tai thik, tader khushi korte parle (baaki class ke chotiye), mone hoy akashe bheshe bheshe byaRacchi...she byapaar i alada. tai, tara shei somoye ja korten, ami ajke shetai korchi, bhablei monta besh projapoti projapoti, balloon balloon, hoye othe. bojhate bolo na.

jai hok, mukh gombhiir kore, jama-r hatha gutiye, ekhane sekhane tick, cross korchi....emni somoy kheyal holo, thik bhalo nombor temon keu pachchena. mote ekta 22, beshirbhaag i 14-15, ekta abar 3.


prothome besh uttejiito hoye poRlam. shei class nine e ShouNok ke 1 nombor beshi deoa, tarpor aRshola-r life cycle na bolte parar jonno daR koriye rakha, ber korchi. besh emon koyekta shuddho bangla shobdo mathaye gurchilo, jader ekhane probesh nishedh.

edesh e ki niyom ami janina. baRir lokera khata dekhte chaye kina tao janina. 3/25 dekhe ki bolbe? "dont cry baby, momma is gonna make everything alright" bolbe, naki, baccha-r mon kharap ghNuchate ekta choto khato theme party i diye felbe?

ami ki kortam? khata ta lukiye rakhtam. buk dur dur kore baRi firtam, fire shoooob boi khata-r niche, otake gNuje ditam. tarpor jedin obhibabok er shoi kore dyakhanor shesh din, tar aager din otake chupi chupi ber kortam. kii bhoyanko piece ami chotobyalar thekei, hyan?

mukh chuun kore prothome maa ke dyakhatam. maa bolto, oi ek i dialogue, sharata school/college jibon... "ei nombor peyechish?, shob to perechili bolli, ki holo? baki ra ki peyeche? " eituku peRiye jete parle, dupur byala plus bikel byala shaanti. shedin khelte jaoa bosshyo pondo. raat-e baba ke face korar pala. ami chirokaal i bNete, bujhle? baba baRi fireche, bel bajacche, ma jachche dorja-r dike...aar amar uchchota kromosho hRash pacche. ei korei aar baRini. tarpor aarki, hath pa thanda hoye jaoa, kaan toktoke laal, payer nokh er dike thNyae cheye thaka, mukhe saat choRe raa na kata, hothath bhyak kore kNede fyala, mukh e kichu konomote gNujhe shue poRa. byas.

Nischinti....gota ek soptah-er jonno.

ei bhibishika moy sondhya gulor kotha bhebei hok, ba jai hok, hothath amar mon-er balloon shob chupshe gyalo. aha re, na hoy poRei ni, na hoy tv i dekheche, na hoy icche kore ni boi khulte, sottyi to, Darwin koto shaal e, kon boi er kon pata e kii likheche, jene ami i ba ki ulte dichchi?? thak na ora, oder violent games, rash driving, saturday nights, Wii, size zero aar fata cheRa jama kapoR er duniya tei. ek din to berotei hobe.

hath pa thanda hoyar din sobar emnii ashe...take deke deke anar to kono mane hoy na bolo?

aar shob cheye bhoy er kotha, amar baRite je khata dyakhanor din ekhono shesh hoyni.