as i sit by an alien window in an alien land, i wonder what it feels like to belong here. what does it feel like to wake up every morning in this land of bearded trees and thank god for keeping you at home? what does it feel like when you see a stretch of road and think "home stretch!" how does it feel indeed. what i do know is what it is like to miss home. to stare at an empty strech of the afternoon and think of all the places you've ever been with your friends. al those places where you could have bee now. where you're not. the places go on fine. people there go on living. so do you. at least in theory. in part.
you adopt a strategy of blocking things from your mind. try not to think of the voices you cant hear, of the people you cant touch. cant see. sat sagor er pare...
neat rows of houses...manicured lawns. strangers. strange eyes. that's what you fear the most. the way they look at you. if i said i long to be home then that would be an understatement. its nice here...but LA's fine but it ain't home....

shib thakur er desh e

have u seen all those movies where the hero gets caught in a time wrap? the same thing happens over and over again...the same time...that it can happen in real life too is a bit of a disorienting fact. when u go by ur watch that says its 12 noon when its pitch dark outside, u begin to doubt that thing called sanity. so ok, over and done with an entire day. u've imagined what everyone else would have been doing at what particular time, cried over missing it, felt nostalgic...the works. then, voila! the day comes back. in a new land. same watch. same you. and the same time. on a different continent. told you this was going to get freaky. so what do u do in such a situation? plan a) u bravely admit that such anomalies happen more frequently than lack of money in ur pocket. plan b) (and this is the tricky one) u feel like a total dumbass alien. and that, coincidences of all coincidences, is what ur called when u land. legally. theoretically, literally, and im guessing metaphorically. remember all those times when some inner voice told u not to gape at firangs? well it comes right back at ya. and believe me, when u get the "ahem-u-look-kinda-funny-and-u-dont-sound-like-us" look...its really not funny anymore.
problem no. 2. or was it 3? oh what the hell...next problem. everything turns topsy-turvy. literally! (u knw im beginning to think that everything in this place is a litte too literal for my rather esoteric liking). a ride in a car? pleasant enough, say u? well imagine this. u think its the right side, but actually its the wrong one. the way u think they'd crash is exactly how they drive safe. switches turn the other way. taps too. up is down. no wonder that movie was made by an american. only an american cud live so easily with the right-left/up-down concept. plus they tell u the temperature outside is abalmy 82 degrees. u do a double take. balmy, did u hear? balmy? downright batty, i say. farenheit. jeez. whatever happened to degree celsius? i tell u, what this land needed was a good does of british imperialism. then they'd begin to see things the "right way".
so now comes the critical question. is everything all that bad? oh by the way, before i break into my joyful song, it costs $3 for an airport trolley. the next time u push along that wheezy old thing at Netaji Subhash airport, remember someone up there is warning u to count ur blessings, and count them fast.
oh yes. now to the nice part. things are clean, things move fast, no noise. overall a nice place. having said that glorious line, i now ask u to sit down and seriously ponder upon the connotations and varied interpretations of "nice".

it's been raining almost non-stpo for the past few days. i think all this rainy weather calls for a post. wow. of all the lame excuses i have come up with, this has to be the lamest. or the best. it might be a psychologically interesting question as to why i look for excuses in the first place. you could call me a compulsive lier. maybe there are some dark freudian explantions behind my behaviour. alright, shut up.
now the question comes, if i shut up, then who talks? im not expressing my deep seated curiosity as to the pseech-abilities of all of mankind. what i mean was, if i dont talk then who talks here? if no one talks here then what happens to the blog? if no posts are put up then this just becomes another useless piece of junk occupying a bit of cyberspace already loaded with useless pieces of junk. hence, in the interest of all of humanity and of cyberspace, i keep writng.

names and chanachur

there are moments when u wish u cud blog in bengali. not the transliterated gibberish that one is forced to put up in the name of bengali. the words. the nuances. the little twists that can only be understood when u dont have to break through the maze of english alphabets. but till then, this is my chosen language. this is the language's chosen me. perhaps that is a bit presumptuous. it is. i had to check extensively before i could rest assured that i was not maing a major spelling gaffe. gaffe. faux pas. nice words. im rather attached to them. they seem to define my actions the best. well that i am sure is not what one might call a flattering description of the self. the "other", more revealing self, has taken over now. the "other" of the "self". l'autre du soi. dear lord. i believe it is high time i look beyond theory. im beginning to think in theory. then relate things. my my, what arrogance!
i had a pretty firm idea in my heade that i would call this post "chanachur and chirebhaja". i started with "chanachur and muribhaja" but chire seemed to a better option. but now i see no reason to continue with such nomenclature. not that i did back then, but back then the sheer eccentricity of it seemed appealing. now it seems stretched. mundane. i believe i am becoming my own critic. or critique. or both? or neither? how about a change from this (and i assure you i believe this entirely) rather monotonous discussion.
where to milady? chalao panshi belghoria. aj amar hathe odhel shomoye. er por kichu na korle poche jabe. tai a frantic bid to finish it all. oooh, that had a lovely melodramatic touch to it. i think it's time to call quits.

I'm writing again. almost compulsively. something might be deduced from this i guess. like dream reading. or was in interpretation? well either ways, not my cup of tea...somebody took down all the curtains at my place today and the effect was rather startling. for one thing i didnt know the place could let in so much of light. for another, i was shown the extent to which i could be privy to to other people's lives. and vice versa. so good? or bad? or both? well predominantly bad. i dont like being looked at. not in this way. i like looking in. furtively. some would use the word peeping. some voyeur. is that wrong? coul be. again, im hovering within that grey zone of uncertainty...
but there is much to be said for those who peep in. you look in, the light shines bright. the stage is set for the daily soap opera. types. always i meet types. people who fit in. people who have maddeningly secure lives. patterned lives. routine. did i say maddeningly? funny i should be saying that, when its that maddening security that draws me there. have you ever felt this way? that you have your nose pressed against a window pane and are looking in upon a cozy family room? the trick is that you always have to be outside. in the snow. in the storm. an outsider looking in.
what does it feel to be inside? ah..but that is where the catch lies. within, the cracks become apparent, the crevices take control. the picture is spoilt. no. i like it here. outside. looking in.

it's that time of the year when time is your biggest fear....loads and loads of it....and nothing to do. you'd think that's the way to live? compulsive entertainment? heard a phrase from calvin and hobbes? who ever knew having fun was this hard work!
life's confusing. so many things that you once thought would never change...so many people...so many feelings. sometimes i wonder if words are adequate to express all thatone feels. lately i have begun to question the efficacy of words. they can hide so much. so very much. masks and more masks, that's what i make best. masks of words, letters on page, hiding all, revealing all. maybe what really scares me is the fact that my words reveal everything. if you look hard enough, it is all there. bare, naked, vulnerable. secrets are my passion. whether i like them or not, i can't avoid them. they pile up within me, stack upon stack, choking me, violently seeking a way out....being melodramatic again. masks up. face the world. belinda smiled...and the world was gay....

jerks

why do they do this? over and over again? dont they get tired? its not like the job's easy or that he's not trying. but thre remains a question of time which is necessary. not something he mioght be given as a favour but as something he deserves. after all this, this i what they can come up with? i wonder why i still follow all this. addiction? u might say so. one word on the other side--i might say so.
i have asked this before. im asking it again. and no, i dont particularly hope for an answer. but whatever it is that they are fighting for, they'll never get it. never-fucking-ever. you cant walk over someone just he is civilized. louts. hooligans. bloody gutter-snipes.
or maybe its just because they have a severe lack in life. how many homicides can i commit? hitler planned his genocide pretty well. maybe i should take a leaf out of his book. they deserve nothing better. far worse, if i have my way. and some especially....by god, if i could only lay my hands on them..........
they think that their aggression is worth tuppence? they think that what they are doing is right? do they even know their own memory span? i'd like to see all these morons when they come lick his feet. wouldn't that be a sight. and they will. oh yes they will. i will see that day who laughs the loudest. for one thing, it wont be them.

a sound outside. wind...windchimes...late night. have you ever heard the sounds at night? in the stillness of sleep? magnified sounds. little tinkerbell sounds. windchimes. there they go again. how do u capture the sound? how do u make it stay beyond that moment? how do u fill the gap before it comes again? of its own accord. willingly. trees. leaves. trains. the odd rickshaw slowly making its way down the sleepy lane. suddenly something tears through the night. u start. sit up. then slouch back into the comfort of unknown sounds. and wait....for the wind. the windchimes.

at first i thought it was just another one of those things my machine loves doing. you know, you want something to load quickly and just then things get inexplicably slow? or low? or just fucking wht-the-hell-am-i-doing-here-? speed? yeah? well anyways i thought that's what had happened when i tried to write something on blog. everything comes, but this page where u write. so u wait. um...wait some more...refresh...aha!!!!!!!.....nothing. on a serious note---blogger's way of pouting? prolonged leave of absence? how romantic.
so, how have things been? lately a little bizarre. what with mum out of station, the liberty to go jump on the moon if i care to.....or other things which i shall discreetly leave out at this moment.
winter should have set in by now. the season of woollens and over-ripe oranges. the smell is here alright. the sharp tangy smell of winter. but winter isnt. its strange. when u wonder how the season can be so far behind with its smells already thriving. or maybe not thriving. maybe just an oversensitive piece i got below my eyes. boy does that sound corny!
everytime i look beyond my machine i see books. piles and piles of them. prreetty impressive huh? i know. if only the feel-good factor would last when i opened the fucking incomprehensible sons of bitches. execrations, execrations, where will all of this lead me? hopefully to a slightly clearer understanding of donne, but going by the looks of it......

dukhu

as the car moved away i could see his face growing smaller and smaller. standing in the rain, he watched us leave. with our unruly bundles. things sticking out, things pushing themselves off. a life carried away. 10 years moved into a new place. and he just stood. incomprehension writ large on his face. why did he wait? did he believe we would come back? did he think that the rain would stop, bringing sunshine and all the happy days? but then again, how would he know? and that's how i remember him. wet, fur clinging close to his body, a wet, dripping tail, still vaguely trying to wag. but the look on his face is what i remember the most. somewhere between confusion and disapproval. maybe he was just hungry. did he feel all these things or am i just looking for an outlet for the way i felt? i've seen him once or twice after that. never the same. he came after us, all the way home. but nothing was the same again. and then he disappeared. if i ever saw him again i'd like to say sorry. i'd like to bid a proper goodbye and not leave him with the falsest of hopes. he had seen us leave before, but there had always been a return. so what went wrong this time? why the absence? i miss him. miss his raggedy-ann looks, his tail nipped at the tip, his perpetually hungry look, his crucially mistimed bark. most of all i miss his presence near the door. a shadow on the doorstep. wish i could remember him some other way. but what sticks in my mind is that one soggy morning, with the rain just beginning to fall and the face of a lonely little dog. miss you.

i know, i know!!!!!! i have been away, and not with good reason. well i cant call orkut a good reason with all my good intentions.
on the college front. nothing. greek. some death. a wee bit of metaphysicals. but nothing. and oh yeah, lots of fish and lot of ruti and pauruti. my own theory goes that if we manage to feed the fish enough pauruti then they'll be pauruti and not fish anymore. if you cant comprehend this one, never mind. i wont hold that against you. the other theory says that overfeeding might cause them to die of stroke. serious things to think about. one might even consider taking the fish into consideration. but they're so bloody greedy! serves them right if they become pauruti.

the vagaries of passwords

who knew they had so much in them? and who knew others put so much in them! first its too short, or weak, or medium. then a moment of spite. a password which is finally STRONG! and then? the moment of stark realisation...what the fuck was it?????

late.

am late. as usual. its not like i leave home late or anything. its just that somehow or the other i am late for office. mebbe its just my distaste for this place. could be. well by now i have almost spent a month here. i have got to know quite a few people and they are by and large nice. well i guess wht i truly dislike is the fact that i have no way out of here. no, im cribbing again and that was not my intention.
well my intion then? just to post a blog. coz i havent done so in a while. bodhi keeps visiting my blog to say "she's ALIVE". well yeah dude i am. barely. but yes alive. alive and bored.
so what's new? the weather actually. its brilliant. today when i left home a storm arose. (storm arose? tht right? oh what the hell!) and the storm was brilliant. grey skies, wind blowing, leaves flying all over the place, the wind picking paper up and making little eddies of paper and rubbish. and people. thats the most brilliant part of a storm. people seem happy. free. carefree even. i love that. in fact, i love almost everything about storms. and then the rain comes. in thick, fat droplets. first a few. just to make you wonder where the water was coming from. then you look up. and sploch! one on your nose, the next on your cheek. one, two, three...a million. all of nature seems caught up in this happy dance. the tree leaves dance, the little multi coloured puddles dance...happy, happy, happy.
then after the rain. soft. wet. a little cold. birds sit on trees, their feathers all a mess. people pass you by, dripping. dripping umbrellas, sighing as they are closed after a good days work. happy. squish-squash go rubber slippers. wet clothes. clinging. water dripping from your hair. happy. a little cold and a lot wet. but happy. happity-happy.
then night falls and darkness gathers. a wet darkness. still semi-drenched. wet sighs. frogs, crickets, insects. everything bonded by a little water. a lot of water.
then? steaming cups of teas. hot pakoras. gorom gorom muri telebhaja. television. good adda. a cosy warmth that can come only after a drenching. draw your knees right up to your chin, sit close to mommy and talk of all the grand things you plan to do. happy.
outside the rain starts again. this time its not playful. this time its not a happy dance. hard and unforgiving, it banishes the rest of humanity from its sight. harder and harder it comes down, drowning streets, roads and the signs of life. you sit inside. warm and cozy. khichuri and alu bhaja safely disposed of. the tv has finally run out of things to show. talk no longer flows. as if afraid of the rain outside, it oozes. slowly. drips. slower...stops. draw the chador tight around you. lights out. everybody softly sinks to sleep. drowsy, you look out the window. the rain drops still dance, freed by the night. the street lamp creates a rainbow. distorted rainbow. splish. splosh.splish.splosh.......

just bored, tired, sleepy, hungry, sad, upset, angry....

another year. another exam. things seemed a bit diluted this time. coz i wasnt as involved as other times. how could i be with this darned office thing?!!! reached college so late today and i could hardly stay after it was over. such lovely weather outside. the last place i want to be in is this office. but what choice do i have? zilch. zilch, zilch, zilch.
felt a bit bad about fighting with mum this morning. i did not want to fight. but just coz i have office cant mean i cant go to college. especially on admissions day. mum is right about them not needing me. but then i need them. would she understand that bit? i dont know. mebbe she will. she just wants me to be ok, both physically and mentally. i understand her point too. but i have to do certain things too. life is so fucking confusing.
i know for certain the one thing that i like to do. that i want to do. have no one controlling my share of time. no one to tell me when to go where. no one to tell me that i cant leave when i want to. no one to bother me. ideal? i know. so who doesnt want an ideal life? i know at some point in time i will have to work to earn a living. and i know saying that i am still too young to be doing that is just being a shirker. but hey what's life without a dream??????????

reasons not to wear sleeveless to office

statesman has one amazing thing. there is no dress code here. people wear what they feel like.friday dressing galore.more like a sad residue of college. so i felt emboldened. took the plunge and wore a sleeveless top. and boy do i regret it. remember those frigging acs i had talked to you about? well it seems like they do work afterall. especially when you choose to leave your sleeves at home. the upshot? i am freezing. outside feels glorious. warmth! blessed warmth!!!! god! just yesterday i was like, sheesh its colder outside than in here. looks like someone up there heard me and, for once, was on statesman's side. so here i sit, hugging myself in a vain attempt to warm me up. would they let me off if i told them that i was feeling cold? hm...now what could the chances of that happening be?

some stories...never told

machines here are bizarre. some open this site. some refuse to point blank. some are rather polite. they will lead u on with the hope that some day u will reach your destination. all too soon you begin to believe. all too soon you are brought crashing down. the realities of a blank screen. hopes. false hopes. the world is too full of them already. what need do statesman's machines have to add to that ever growing list????

Unique, by a thousand miles

wishful thinking

lazy sunday afternoons by the sea. the proverbial sun-kissed white sand. baobab trees gently swaying in the breeze. a cool shade. a cooler sea. soft lazy waves lapping the shore...kids in multi-coloured sea gear. sand castles, sand pools, clear blue-green water. beer bottles by the side, half buried in the sand. just perfecting the art of laziness...oh before i forget...amazing lunches...stuffed on heavenly food. living life. enjoying it. not merely existing.
think im trying to make you jealous? think again. just trying to relieve happy memories. happier days, happier times. innocent times. in all likelihood this entry's maing as much sense as a pea-fowl's, but what the hell. wish i was at home. then i could upload a few pics. never mind, will do that soon.
downloading the weather right now. gonna be a very hot day tomorrow. the weather dept is funny. everytime i call them they say "Likhun, discomfort day.." what the crap is a "discomfort day" anyway????
i may get to make pages today!!!! hooray!!!! tomorrow when people read the statesman (however few, ahem) they might just read a page made by me...ah the day-dreams...

office. again.

right. 3rd saturday at office. saturdays are usually quiet around here. no pluses go on tomorrow so a lot of people have their off days today.
there's this thing with the astrological predictions in the afternoon statesman and me. never never never do they have anything good for me. today they had this one thing. i was to go on a shopping spree. i was! i really was supposed to go to new market to buy cloth for a couple of new kurtas. as usual was too lazy to get out of the house early. and hence no shopping. must do this one of these days. umm...mebbe monday or something. what are the chances of me going to JU and then going to new market and then going for work? pretty close to zilch im guessing. ok ok, i will do it soon. gosh, i need to pushed and prodded to go shopping!!!! not that. im just short on time. plus lazy. i have to admit that one.
hm...so what now? right now is too early for work. stories dont come in so early. the work effectively begins from say 6 when you have to sub the stories so that pages can start getting made by 8. their deadline is 10 pm but ive never seen them finish on time. so i guess its sort of a guideline, more than a proper deadline. things do get done by 11 though. but that's early city. late city stuff happen til later. there arent significant changes. but there are some. and what with the world cup there are definately changes in the sports section.
the sports guys are real fun. had a nice chat yesterday. my immediate boss was absent yesterday so had virtually nothing to do. plus some awesome games were on. go argentina!!!! well anyhow, i actually asked mum to send the car in a little later. not cause i had any work to do. but cause i was chatting. hehehe!!!! what a turnaround!!!!!