When you lose something you can't replace....

This year saw many new highs and lows.

When I look back, I see an year filled with broken promises and tears. But leaving behind all of him, I'd love to remember this year as an year of infinite possibilities, of meeting some wonderful people (Joe and George precisely) and mostly exploring new corners. 

I was blessed with a beautiful niece, who laughs like crazy every time I'm around.

I have been to newer places this year, my favourite being Colaba in Mumbai and Courtenay place in New Zealand, danced with strangers, missed home and spent sleepless nights. My first trip alone to a new city was quite remarkable, I remember the glorious moonlit Ballard Estate, Room No 96 and waking up to the seas.
My first trip with friends happened this year too, into the sea, free and beautiful. I started writing for Postergully. And ended too. :(

Life is not really about achieving something new, I realize. One sad morning, I decided to leave a part of me and move along. It was so damn scary that I often had to come back to reality.
Life without you would be the toughest thing, I have ever known. Every memories I create I wish I could have shared with you, every new road I walk I wonder how it would have been to walk holding you. But I chose to leave it for good

So this is to 2013, to some wonderful memories made, to travelling and to leaving a part of me somewhere faraway. I hope to see 2014 in newer colors, in travelling more and more and in falling into madness all over again. 

Life, duh!

******Look at the stars, look how they shine for you.******

96!

She had prepared for it a week in advance.

The room was neat and tidy, the bed sheets were clean and white although few strands of hair lay here and there. The house keeping staffs were young, restless and anxious to set a jolly place. The room was silent, apart from occasional swapping of channels before she decided to turn it off for good. She liked staring through the balcony at the distant horizon, the glistening water of the Arabian Sea, the ships that were parked at the harbor, each she thought had epics to narrate. After few days she became good at it, she could say which ship appeared when and which disappeared on which night, some mornings she would just stay there in the balcony staring straight and counting numbers, imagining her to be there forever.

Brunch at Britannia café, a walk down the causeway and evening at Marine drive, she imagined, just when he cancelled the trip, ‘too busy even on the weekend’.

At office she could hardly concentrate on the work.

She acquiesced without giving much thought or none of the thoughts were strong enough to make her do otherwise, the last happy conversation, she remembered was about final revising. She asked ‘towel?’ he replied, ‘no’. And then she rushed to the airport- happy, nervous and excited.

But then stories happen in between, stories of tears and arguments, of pain and rage.

Home she rushed back. ‘Enough’ she whispered.

Mumbai.

So it was actually the other way around.
Incessant Rainfall. Messy hair love. Cha. Evernote. Conventional smiles. Alfanso aahhness. Flustered evenings. Inebriating Marine drive. Prawn biriyani at Ambar / bheja fry at Bade Miyan. Walk down the moonlit Ballard Estate. Hurried breakfast of  tasteless sandwiches. Meetings. Purple Peeptoes. Pao bhajis at 1 am. Midnight ramble. Lonely hotel nights. Sleeplessness. Desire. Cogitating over the past. 

Life happened, love did not! 

For every time I learn to be strong
and make newer promises
For every time I grow up a little more
I hate you.

For every time I choose a wrong a way
and cry out with broken eyes
For every time I give up.
I need you.

For every time you come back
and let me see you in different light
For every time you break me all over again
I find you.

For every time you make me smile
and make me find peace
For every time I desert the world just to be with you
I love you.

For I know if love is this strong, 
I can be stronger...

All my memories!

This Durga puja everything seemed different, so I took a turn and travelled down the memory lane.  

And  I remember almost everything, the last working day in school before puja vacation, no classes, having fun and getting to see the ekdalia pandal giving its finishing touches through the taxi window. Those days there were fewer pandals with no theme pujas at all, the main attraction was obviously how beautiful Ma Durga looked.

It has moved on with time and so did we.

Years after I used to visit this same pandal with my college buddies and little did I know that this too shall pass one day, with college coming to an end. How I miss those days now.

And then I miss my old para, the dingy lane, that durga puja upstairs, those colorful  balloons that an uncle used to buy for all the kids in the building, that attic where we used to spend the day playing and finally the Dashami evening- it was so different from nowadays. We used to have a sip of bhang, write ‘sri sri durga sahay namah’ on a betel leaf with red ink and later in the evening we used to watch the boys go mad with the sounds of dhak.

Long after, Durga puja added a whole new meaning to my life, going out with friends, adda at Maddox n Durga bari, holding hands and a lot more.

This year it is of course different with friends scattered all over the globe, going office on Nabami and spending times with strangers whom I started calling friends.

So this dashami as I see an eighty year old man dancing with a seven year old kid, I realize that these feelings never change, only that we move on. Under the glossy look, the heartaches throb deeply, and pain never parts as it used to be years back. Probably certain things can never change like the dhaker awaj, sindur khela, dhunuchi nach and that heavy feeling in every Bong.

Its not at all hyperbole when people claim that nothing beats durga puja in Kolkata, true that it has changed with years, we grew up and moved apart, true that I could never let certain moments go off my memory but whatever it is and how much we grow up, durga puja in Kolkata will live in moments, moments that could touch ones heart and yet leave bullet holes in once built conventions.

"India Payroll Team wishes you Subho Jonmodin"

I was busy...
busy writing codes and stuffing things into my head.
busy with the presentations at odd hours and making ppts till late nights.
busy gulping down food from 'jhoops'  with strangers whom I started calling Friends.
busy with the hectic schedule in office, with office..
busy missing pami, pak, nilu and some good ol' memories .
been busy pretending things n getting teary eyed every now and then.


But with that all that I did manage to

• finish Anandamela 
• be the group rep as well as the module lead (*grinslikeanidiot *)
• watch before sunset
• meet up old friends. (kfc, subs and gelato included)
• learn a new language called java
• and finally save my blog from dying!

So this is to the new job, to my new friends n to the k13 batch
and to pak, nilu, samba, pami, palu n moh for all the texts and the phone calls that keeps me going in the toughest of hours.

Smriti....

When I look back now I could feel the pain, an intense one. These four years were lot. And as I sat that day with friends, little high I wondered 'bout all that, that lay scattered in my head- Oly, Zhong hua and the craziest get togethers.
Each time I visited Zhong- hua or Oly and let that chilled stuff pass down my throat I could feel the pain and the feeling of togetherness all at same time. And pami's place where we sat most often with black rum, breezer n Maggi or the times at nandan, college street or coffee house over endless debates and uncontrollable laughters- the little things that would make my day. Growing up was this fun I never realized before and as I stared agape at the wild charm of my campus I realized that there are certain things in life that could never happen again- getting sloshed at binayek's garage, birthday '08 or intense puking after taking the shots for the first time.
And as I shuffled through those random clicks that day the ache grew stronger somehow. I knew I wont ever get to hear the Floyd in the same way, neither Calcutta blues will make us cry our hearts out. And I will keep missing those bawals, the birthday parties, the random treats, the never ending addas and those shoulders even more. The vodka shots would never taste the same again. The cozy taxi rides would never again be this beautiful.
And so as the car sped through I closed my eyes to feel the strong air and at times things never turn blue, they remain just as it is, only that we grow up, move on leaving behind promises, bonds n words and so it remains, smriti..........

And no, I'm not high..

Sometimes under the blazing blue sky, when everything seems pretty much good I wonder about my twenty-one years old relationship with this city, the city which I'm planning to leave soon.
So when I sit almost blankly my thoughts grow deeper and they take a shape of a big rain cloud and then when I'm just about to cry, I dont. And when I stroll along its road all alone, when I sip its coffee, when I kiss and pledge someone in those quaint, dimly lit alleys, when I cry stupidly over raging madness, when I keep hogging its street food, when I sit in the pubs and drink, when I laugh uncontrollably and when I read its books that are so full of literature and history my heart brims over love and affection for this city and it makes me light, as light as a feather n I go on thinking about the days, my growing up days, my wee little room with books and magazines scattered all over, mamar-bari where I spent most of my days squabbling with my maternal brother, my childhood friends with whom I lost all contacts now and the days of kurtas, jholas n bunking lectures in college. I somehow remember it all.

And so I fall in love with my city all over again as much I used to hate it once, the city which saw my emotions, dreams n regrets so close, the city which never failed to baffle me with her rich beauty, culture and history, the city which imbues me with satisfaction and happiness, the city where I met my first love, where I strolled along in the by-lanes holding his hand, where I brazenly kissed him my first kiss, where I let him go and leave me all alone among strangers. But then this city is so full of bonhomie that when you groan with pain, when you bitch in anger the rain comes and washes away the woes, giving you a strange, undying freshness.
And whenever I feel gung-ho about settling all alone in a place faraway from kolkata, of starting life fresh and independent my heart reminds me of those endless things that I will keep missing. And with a sullen despair I remember about all the roads I walked, all the memories I lived with, all the songs that I danced to and all the guys who splintered my heart again and again.
Kolkata would remain the city of loves and lovers, of couples holding hands and walking down the streets, of friends who would do anything and everything for you, of ilish, mishti doi, phuchkas n flurys, of strange readers and drunken poets, of goods and bads.

A walk down the memory lane

I went to BSS yesterday after almost four years and little did I know that the place where I spent some fourteen years would look so strange. As I scurried through the first floor corridor I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. A string of memories flashed through. It was here I was thrown out of the classrooms most often and it was here that I took the trophy for scoring highest in maths with a burgeoning happiness one Sunday evening. That was way back in class three, yes I still remember. School always brings back these mixture of feelings, tears and smiles at the same time.

I always wanted to come school, even with fevers simply because I never wanted to miss out one single thing. It was only in primary classes that I realized BSS is my second home. And why not it was here where I got my first friends, it was here that I realized that lunch breaks are not only for having lunches, but for enjoying the rides down at the park and it was here where I got some of the happiest moments like winning the 'washing day' race in class two. I simply loved the primary section, that toy library, those western music classes, Anuradha mam, Sampa mam and everything that falls within. But going to seconday is yet another thing, that excitement, that anticipation, that cold feet, that feeling of growing up.

I loved sahana mam from the very first day in class five. She used to teach us English. It was through her I realized that English is my first love and not maths. Sahana mam once read out christmas carol to the whole class and only that she didnt tell us the climax. She asked us to go through the book. It was in class five that I started reading books, feluda or blyton whatever reached my hands first. It was in class five I met my lifetime friends, Mohana and Payel. It was in class five that I actualy understood the meaning of friendship for the first time. Class five meant yet another thing, yes sports day, cheering our own houses, praying for them. That first feeling of togetherness.

As I strolled along I realized how most of the things changed, even how the wooden desks and the old blackboards got replaced. The corridors now looked shinningly beautiful, adorned with bright flowers all over. And the whole building has been painted white with pale blue border which in our times was bright red. Each floor now has a name. I stopped in front of class eleven Science B for a minute. I saw a group of girls grappling with each other and then falling into sudden childish giggle. I stayed at that moment for quite a long time staring at those girls almost blankly realizing somewhere here I belonged years back, somewhere amidst pritha mam' chemistry classes, amidst chaki mam's scoldings and among those wonderful moments with the craziest bunch of buddies, moments that one could never let go.
I recalled the last day in school, cutting that chocolate cake, dancing with the whole class, clamouring for no reason at all. But like others I did'nt cry as I knew that a part of me will always be here, somewhere in the basketball court, somewhere in Dutta mam's history classes or somewhere in these corridors. 

Then suddenly the moment got lost as I saw a very lanky girl standing behind me with sparkling eyes. Stuffing something in my hands she ran away. With curious eyes I somehow managed to check that paper and there it was with her name written underneath.  I almost went numb, some moments that probably remain priceless.  
                                                                                                                                   

The year

Last year 1st january was good enough- the long road trip to shantiniketan, the babli resort, the baul gaan, the food out there, the dance masti...yess almost everything.
The summer training started in a while and came with it the worst part. Sometimes it is hard to take the pain and its even harder to cope up with the memories that u create in the process, the memories that make you sit straight and think back all over again. 12th Jan was the last day we talked.
On the better side 2010 gave me my first experience of getting sloshed...sigh! And it introduced me to a whole new life of BBC, Oly, Zhhong- hua n all those kickass parties. The mandarmani trip, the pujas, the family get togethers that were best in their own ways...And oh ya the hair cut that made me cuter n happier.
The Darjeeling trip was the best trip ever for: being perfect 10, the eventful long 14 hours of train journey, the Kanchanjangha, the roof top breakfasts, those yummy momos, the car trip from sikkim to darjeeling, lunch at glenary's, intense shopping, the mal road, the news of direct PI- moments that would be treasured forever.
24th Dec was an absolutely new feeling: SPE, HHI, Underground all in a night n dancing like crazy....

Lastly the interview on 30th. It couldnt have been better, just couldnt...And the text from K on 31st, "congrats baby" made my day...yes I got into TCS, the best way to end the year perhaps...
To 2010,
You took away something I thought I loved but you made me tougher anyway, you made me happier when I thought everything was going wrong , you made me maturer from one gawky girl I once was....And so heres raising a toast to you for bringing the bests, for all the wonderful moments, for letting me understand friendship a bit too well.

Btw happy new year guys!

On a sultry summer evening, as we decided to walk...

your hands holdin' mine
as tightly as they could
the sudden urge n' the way they felt.
The hopes that came stomping out
the love or the feeling
the desire or the love
probably everything that got tangled
till they tasted something sweetly bitter,
On the dark dusky evening
as we sat there just you n me
the lovely yellow church some few steps away
and the stars smiling at our shambling madness
you suddenly whispered something in my mouth
never knowing that they'd last forever,
As you stood, your cheeks against mine
stroking gently on my bare skin
and caressing my hair
I could hear them say.
On a lovely, sultry summer evening
I could just hear them say!

Day Out

The most eventful get together till date :

() For meeting all at navina n then not watchin the movie. Time crunch :P
() For the sudden rain, for getting wet inspite of having umbrellas n for the coziest cab ride from navina to SC.
() For all the photo shoots at food court, for being Aftershock-ed, for callin me sweet n sexy all at the same time.

() For having the bawal with the auto walah in the middle of the road. *In the mood for bawals*
() For having that perfect lunch (with 500 ml coke n chicken == perfect)
() For the l-o-n-g auto ride with six of us packed n the black clouds. Chilled!
() For ending up at nandi's place (after decades), for getting to watch the video (finally! :D), for letting it go back to where it all started, for the chai n the samosa with the rains.
() For the camera n this SONY moment. Photo courtesy- Nandi, bad editing- me.
() For all the bokboks.

() For the feeling of togetherness (for no extras).

() For the numerous memories (with him) that kept lingering.

And to all these little get togethers that really mean a lot.

Of yellow river n Flamingos.... !

You sit back on that big, brown couch
You talk 'bout love n life
Of wet woods n sunrise.
You fake, sulk and smile high.
You dream of yellow river n flamingos
And hold me back like never before
You do this and do that
And all that to let me go!

Reunion.. :)

I shall be meeting some of my old tuition friends this weekend almost after about five long years, the moment I have been longing for years.
And it brings back so many memories. I remember the old damp room where we used to sit, the place which witnessed so many of my firsts- first crush, first fight, first true friends, first book of Harry Potter, first pair of sneaker and all the little things I used to crave back then. I used to go there every Saturday afternoons and Tuesday evenings and I hardly used to study there, ever :P. But things I gathered from Sir are way too important than those stupid physics or chemistry lessons. His beige colored shirt, his sparkling eyes, his lovable words and some odd bunch of twisted incidents are all that I remember now.
True that I have been growing too fast, learning to wear that mask, to put up a fake smile, to lie. And just then I remember those stupid fights, the fresh smell of the saraswati pujas, those evenings with rain and jhalmuri, the dairy milks after bijoya, those bunking tuitions- having fun. I remember it all, perhaps you just cant forget your firsts, they are real memorable, real treasure.
These 5 years have been a lot. I became way too matured, bit too settled and calmed down a lot. No long do I crave for those candies and ice creams at odd hours. I have now other things to take care of, huh? But when I sit back and think about the times bygone, tears come so unknowingly and my fingers curl up with a feeling so rare, so fresh that I allmost feel weightless.
And while I am writing this out in the office with a coffee in my hand and the rain pouring outside I guess I really have grown up a hell lot. Growing up is part of life I guess. And while I see the children clamouring outside, jumping in rains, shouting like anything, I know I am missing those days of innocence when love was so simple, when friendship was all about sharing lunch and secrets and when life was all about scoring good grades.
The air inside the office smells so metallic, so stale that it is making me sick, but I guess I have to get used to this, to grow up even more, to put up even more masks, to hide back tears, to show that pink smile.

P.S.- Thanks to faisaal for the treats (chinese, coffee, bhuttas n ice creams), gtalk for I can talk to all my friends n to all them in the office who did'nt block fb and eventually makin my life a little better here.

P.P.S- Thanks to nilu for every little thing in this world.

Life n Beyond....

Moments....
The Feeling. Surely there it was cluttered beneath that fake smile, a flash and it goes again settling in the pallu of the red dhakai sari she bought the other day, a neat red bindi on her forehead and ofcourse a tinge of sindur at the parting of her coal black hair that smelled mostly of jasmine. Dark, kohled eyes, narrow yet deep enough to let him rock and fell him into pieces. And it flashes yet again.
A flicker of memory makes her light if not a bit high for now she learns to bunk her classes as efficiently as once she used to do her homeworks, for now while resting at JU grounds she smokes quite often leaning against his shoulders, lost to the sheer joy of what she is not strangely aware of and for now she drinks beer and vodka as much as her male friends. After all she is learning to let go off things that mattered once so intensely. True that makes her bad, but she could do nothing, probably she could never return where she existed once. After all there's a life beyond being good (good daughter for instance) for all she wanted is 'more' only to get lost in the wild maze of nothingness- moments when she feels like throwing up for things come so close and then they just flunk out, run away as they were never hers, never ever in her whole damn stupid life, moments when she crumbles only to wake up to the dream of that red dhakai sari, moments when she realizes the truth, what she is – 'a widow(?)'
Tears that fall off unconsciously, for the truth that freaking hurts her. Truth which matters mostly to her conscience but a little more to all those away. How I wish there were no word called shame.
Years after there were times when she conflicted with her own self about her reckless nature, her running away towards the wilderness, her rebellious mind when she realizes there is nothing called forever, nothing could be perfect and probably none who's pure enough.
And there remains only stains. Stains of dark red, pitch black and inkish blue and this time bleaching makes no sense, no sense at all.

Redemption

The truth digs in

All insane n brutal.
Peeling off the layers
Exposing those raw, bitter, wounded sheaths
Caused from my silent battles,
From travails of love, life n friendship
Over the dingy allies n dirty corners.
Is that the fear, agony, rage, promise
Are all which matters?
I came hurtling back to the place I belonged.
To the blooming roses
To the retreating clouds,
To those fragile dreams
And tender nostalgias.
To the scarlet sky stretching above,
To those jovial smiles
Of my sweet strawberry friendships
The feeling being as light as a feather.
Tearing apart those anguished moments
The tangerine sky provides the solace.
And at times you just cannot ask for more !

Coffee Break !!!

7th August '09, 6:10
@ Barista

It was time for the evening to set in exposing a silent grey world...But today somehow things seemed utterly different overcoming the daily schedules of boring lectures, the evening looked neither that grey nor it sounded that silent amidst-----

() the togetherness

() the clusters of crumbling memories

() the gleaming lights

() the delightful madness

() the happy faces

() the sexy chocolate mousse

() the mesmerizing beauty of my purono Kolkata

() the cheerful grins

() those mysterious faces stripping off their mysteries

() the puddles of colors here and there

() with crimson dreams in sparkling eyes and

() the 'bitter-sweet symphony' in the background

() with the addas over coffee

() which thoroughly included the torkos and the juktis....

() 'some funny thoughts and happy times'.

LOL.....(never knew that strangers can actually turn up to be good friends though!).
Sometimes things happen so fast that there is no time to regret and sometimes you feel soo happy coz u see that old smile back on her face and again sometimes you feel that the harsh reality instead of hurting you is actually making you feel better and at that moment you realize that you are moving on with your life ( priorities do change!)...yeah, winds of change we call it!!

P.S. - And this is dedicated to my best friend 'poly' darling (well just getting used to your new nickname, you see). Truly there are some smiles that time cannot erase and so some all de best mwahs just for you! -:)

MY ART

'where do you go when you are blue

I will follow you..'

'If I smile and don´t believe

Soon I know I´ll wake from this dream

Don´t try to fix me, I´m not broken

Hello, I´m the lie living for you so you can hide

Don´t cry.......'

P.S- And I painted them...:-)

PS...

1.What does your user name mean?
Don't tell me u didn't understand....

2. Elaborate on your user photo.
Flicker one…liked it

3. How many comments do you have?
And does it really matter??

4. What's your current relationship status?
Just going around

5. What exactly are you wearing right now?
Tee n Bermuda….lol its embarrassing..

6. What is your current problem?
Comin back to life….but well I just can't

7. What do you love the most?
doing what I love the most

8. What makes you most happy?
Perfection

9. Are you musically inclined?
Oh yeah

10. What would you do if you woke up one morning and found out you were on cocaine?
Dunno….

11. if you could go back in time and change something, what would it be?
Will study more….

12.If you MUST be an animal for ONE day, what would you be?
Lion (kiddin..)

13.Ever had a near-death experience?
Wish I had….

14.Name an obvious quality you have.
Well how am I supposed to answer that??

15.What's the name of the song that's stuck in your head right now?
Pherari mon (Bengali song from movie Antahin)

16. Are you happy today?
Not at all

17. Who will cut and paste this first?
Guess me

18. Name someone with the same birthday as you
Shyamosri mam

19. Do you have a secret crush on someone?
Crush- yes, secret-no

20. Do you have a garbage disposal in your kitchen sink?
Yes

21.Have you ever been in a fight?
Once in school

21. Have you ever sung in front of a large audience?
Lol .. why would I ???

22. What's the first thing you notice about the OPPOSITE sex?
Shoes

23. What's your biggest mistake?
Running in wrong directions

24.Say something totally random about you.
I'm messy

25.Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity?
Who cares

26.Are you comfortable with your height?
yes

27.What is the most romantic thing someone has ever done for you?
Secret

28. What are your favourite smells?
Turpentine oil  and Dhuno

29. What's something that really annoys you?
Lies

30. What's something you really like?
Rising in love

31. Do you give random hugs and kisses?
Totally

32. What's the latest you have ever stayed up?
Not sure .. was too tired to see the watch

33. Have you ever been rushed to the emergency room?
Ohhh yes


PS: the tag was picked up from courtyard chronicles

Hold me darlin' just a litle while.........

Can you hold on for a while?
Can you wait for a moment?
Can you keep mum for a minute?
Can you?

So that I can close my eyes
Rest my head on your shoulders
Put my arms round your waist
And hold your fingers tight…

And then……….
………………..
………
……


She buries her face
Her voice chokes
She tries hard to manage
All goes futile…
He comes round
To say her goodbye
She held him close
N he kissed her a goodbye