Belief

I don’t believe in the institution of marriage. Yes, I don’t believe in that, no matter how much you look bewildered or go on to laugh at me. Why, you ask? Well, for one, I don’t believe in the idea that I or the other person concerned could love and tolerate each other for a whole lifetime to go. I don’t know about him, but I sure as hell don’t believe I can be in love with a person after a certain amount of time, leave alone thinking of spending about 50-60 years of my life with him.

You look surprised. You say, I’m crazy and I reply back saying yes I am one, unabashedly. You look back at me and ask, don’t you believe in soulmates? You don’t notice my hesitation but my reply is smooth when I say, No. You nod your head disparagingly and go along. You don’t notice the slag in my step, the faraway look of my face, the glittery eyes. If that didn’t give away the answer to you, then the answer for you is, No. I choose not to explain about my choices to you, because you wouldn’t understand. Nobody does. Why would you then?

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Stupid Cupid

Do you believe there’s a Cupid out somewhere?
I think of asking You.
But then, you wouldn’t understand,
And I’d have to translate it to your language,
And that’d take out all the fun.
Like all the other times, I had to explain to you,
Things you fail to grasp, being out of your reach.
(There’s a point till which I can bear,
But damn if it isn’t irritating!)
So instead, I ask myself.

Yes, I believe there is One,
Otherwise what could possibly explain this,
This outrageous, exasperating feeling,
Of being struck with an attraction.
A pull which goes just one-way round,
With no future in sight,
And feelings too surprisingly new to fight.

I cannot say to you all this,
You’d run away faster than Bolt,
Simply because it’s unbelievable! But hey,
I know that feeling too, right?
So instead I do things which my heart forces me to do,
Making my brain die premature death, multiple times in a day.
If not Cupid, what could possibly explain this?

I can still remember the moment it all happened,
Your back facing the balcony,
Your coat giving you the mysterious allure.
I’d doubled back to see who you are,
And there you were, unknown
But somehow known enough for me to gasp.
For you were just an ordinary guy,
Nowhere near to my preferences.
Yet, yet I tried hard to find the reason,
That made my heart race to see you,
To want to talk to you,
Most importantly, for you to accept me,
For you to like me as I am.
But sigh! If only I could find any,
Oh Mon dieu, someone help me!

Often I have wondered, you know,
What it’d be like, to pursue you.
To chase you until you’re mine,
To break that ego of yours,
Boosting mine in the process of destruction.
But then, I remember who you are,
And despite it all, I don’t want to screw up,
Your already roughened heart.

So here’s what I’ve decided, my friend.
To purge myself of you in the sea,
To drown all these feelings for you,
As unnecessary as salt in anything sweet.
So here’s my eulogy to a surprising attraction,
Which is to die an early, too-soon painful death.
Here’s my tribute to Cupid,
Who turned out to be stupid enough to mess with Me.
And here’s to You, dear friend,
Listen, for I’m confessing to you.
I did like you, yes, believe me when I say that.
But not enough to let go of the past lessons I’ve learnt.
You see, I’m content with myself.
So I have to let you go, and thus,
Goodbye, my almost-happened love.

On Love and Other Demons

It’s cold.
I remind myself of the chill that’s in the air,
But I don’t mind it.
I welcome it.
It relieves me to see that I can still feel.
That goosebumps faithfully show up,
Is a reminder that they’re there, existing just under the skin.
That they’re are still very much alive,
Like the night we had met.

It’s cold.
The November rains brought it in.
You used to love rains,
Maybe you still do, or that’s what you proclaim.
I look up at the swinging trees,
The red-tinged night sky,
They remind me of my won’t-cry-im-strong eyes,
Of the night we parted, for the last time.

It’s cold,
And I shiver involuntarily.
The body screams for warmth, any kind of warmth,
While my heart aches for body warmth,
Of a person who had once been mine.

It’s cold.
It’s been a long while I’ve felt anything else.
I welcome the chill that seeps in my veins,
I smile thinking even nature gets drunk,
On love and other demons.
I’m yet to decide what were you.
To Me, of Mine.

2017 – The Year That Was

Image Source: Pinterest

It’s time for the year roundabout post. I know I’m late (as usual), will be rambling on for long (as usual), on the year that is living off its last hours (as usual). In fact, I’ve every right to ramble, given that I’m writing this post on a network that’s bordering on negative and I’m currently sitting in the basement attic, freezing my ass and hands off, to block all the loud sounds coming from the musical soiree being held in my countryside house. Sigh, yes, that’s my life, welcome! So what’s unusual? Well, surprise. The year itself.

I think anyone who has gone through my earlier posts of Coffee Talkies, would be able to answer the cause behind it right away. For those who haven’t (and for them, a warm welcome in this bitter-cold winter. Please make yourself at home in this humble blog of mine)… let me make it easier for all, actually.

2017 would forever remain remarkable in my so-far life journey, for this was the year I moved out to a different city. This was the year who threw me out of my comfort zone called home and taught precious life experiences of living outside in a city which speaks a language different from mine. But let’s take the weathered path to this year’s memory down the lane rather than a shortcut. Shortcuts are easier to take, I know, but they’re quick enough as well to cutdown upon the joy that is normally associated with all journeys. So let’s do this!

This was a year I was to graduate with Masters and finally get out of the cocoon called University and get to taste the big, bad world out there. The last months were tough, more so because I knew, the people whom I regularly saw for a period of 5 long years, had grown intimacy with over the duration, would cease to be regular mates to sit around and chat with. It was a bit hard reality to reconcile with, but it’d be wrong if I said, I wasn’t ready to face the world. I was, and damn if I wasn’t excited as well!

So I graduated, missed the gold medal by a whisker (I still refuse to stand up and protest against the sheer injustice done to me, for I didn’t and still don’t care. It was a blatant scandal, if you believe my friends), and went headlong into an internship which again was to change my life in its own way.

I’d always wanted to have a corporate life, or at least, get to bite a slice of it. I’d hoped to acquire it through my internship, which I eventually did. It was amazing, made a lot of friends, had fun, learnt the basics of content editing and writing and all that stuff. But that’s like, the usual internship experience of almost every other person. So why was this internship important to me? Because it was crucial to make me come to this realisation that corporate life isn’t the one for me. That it could only be an affair, which could be enjoyed only for a short-term duration but enough to make me bolt if it were to be on a permanent basis. So what to do, now that my lust for corporate life was long satiated? That’s what I thought when I sat down to think, on a fine summer afternoon. Let’s move out, I decided. So I simply went ahead and made it happen!

Sounds incredibly easy, eh? Well, I do make sound everything easy! But believe me when I say, it wasn’t. There has been several lifetime experiences that I have had, in this one semester of my academics (besides my growing addiction to K-Drama, chopsticks and frightening closeness to family). One was watching the winter meteor shower with a couple of other handfuls of friends and ended up having the highest tally of 7 meteors (yes, I’m great, I know, thank you). The other was doing the moonsight on the day the Moon was closest to the Earth, quite accidentally in fact, amidst the entire hostel’s powercut, at 4 a.m. Standing under a sky filled with stars and constellations, with the breeze chilled just enough to make you shiver, the Moon looked mind-blowing and needless to say, one of my best experiences that I’d owe to hostel life. I’d normally like to ramble on more, but hey, the post is already long enough.

So what am I expecting from 2018? Nothing, actually. I’m keeping my arms open to all kinds of experiences that is going to ram headlong upon and onto Me. I’m actually having my mindslate erased entirely to ensure that all kinds of experiences gets noted down, in the inventory of my Life.

I’m fully aware of the fact that 2018 is going to be incredibly stressful and busy. I just hope as convincing my statement looks like, I am too, ready, alert and in my own confident skin. When I look back, I also see myself trying hard to be happy, so that’s the only thing I’d be trying to get a shot at: To be Happy. In whatever I do. In whichever way. No matter what happens at the end.
In the end, what I’d really like to ask from Life is, to return my love back. Let’s meet halfway, darling?

May We become The Force Ourselves. Let’s go out and have a smashing new year, filled with dreams, aspirations and everything we have always wanted to have. Let’s make a name for ourselves, put in every ounce of energy we have in ourselves and smash all conjectures/predictable patterns of you. Let’s try out a different version of ours, a version that’s difficult to reckon with.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, folks! And I mean it, with all my heart. Let’s all have a ‘happy’ new year.

LIFELESS

The girl you see today,
Wasn’t the same before.
She used to be lively once,
When she didn’t need a reason to smile.
For she loved the sound of laughter,
The heady feeling of being full with joy.
But something happened to Her,
That made her carefree vibe die away.
Maybe that thing had a form,
A being who had hurt her somehow,
A human who had a habit of crushing hearts,
Just like he had crushed hers.
She used to smile once,
Openly and whole-heartedly.
What did you do to her to make her like this,
This lifeless being?

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Coffee Talkies #6 – Moving Out

Today is Dashami. Pujo ends. And with that, the wait for the next year’s Pujo starts. With only a day left for me to return back, I cannot help but agree why it’s important to be with your family during Durga Puja. But at the same time, it’s all the more sad, given that I know there’s every probability that I won’t be in Calcutta during Puja next year. No, I didn’t celebrate Puja this year, owing to the resolution taken last year that it would be the last time I’m celebrating Puja. Every bit of chaotic madness around, I had initially resented being here. But I guess it’s the Bengali in Me since this girl’s eyes could be found tearing up on the bhashan of Durga Ma, as she whispered, “Asche Bochor Abar Esho, Ma”. After a measly stay of only a week, as I return back this time, for a long time to come, it is mentally exhausting to even think of going through the motions of sadness, homesickness and eventually numbness all over again.

Now that I’ve spent a month there already, it can be safely said that I’ve settled down in Bhubaneswar. So how did I survive one month in this new city, charting the beginning of the next 2 years to come? Moving out was a big deal, and it should be, if you happen to be the youngest daughter of the family and the only one to move out the earliest. Some say, it is only when you move out of your comfort zone, leave behind everything that has ever been yours, to a zone that’s alien, foreign, it is then that you come to realize the importance of your family. It is as much important as getting the opportunity to test yourself in the foreign lands, of successfully surviving in the big world out there. Bading goodbye to an emotional father, was as difficult as bading goodbye to mother back home, which was despite everything a surprise, given that both the Father and the daughter concerned here, are not really emotional beings.

The initial days were occupied with setting up the lifeless room into a room beating with love and happiness, evoking positive energies, welcoming to everybody. Making new friendships and getting comfortable with the place slowly took the second place in the queue. The hectic schedule leaves no time for anyone to get homesick, and the energy-draining classes make you wonder when and how days roll into nights.Becoming an office-bearer, the Prefect of B.Ed batch of my hostel came saddled with a lot of responsibilities and even little time for myself. You crave for weekends to come, so that you can just laze around and before you know it, the weekdays are back again. It is a sheer endless circle of dire survival.

When you move into a new place, there are certain changes that happens within and to You. The social bee in Me got replaced with the homely Me who would prefer staying back in weekends rather than going out for roaming. Independence comes with costs, and this time it was to live on your own, managing to be economical. I don’t know whether it’s good or bad that we are so inundated with tasks, given that though it is overly energy-depleting, however it leaves little time to think about what you’ve left behind.

Most importantly, as always, I changed. The Bhubaneswar Me is so different from the Calcutta Me that sometimes I wonder whether that’s a positive or a negative sign. The courage, the boldness is of course encouraging which was attested by the hosting of the first Mahalaya event in my hostel in the last 6-7 years, on my prerogative. The fact that it was a tremendous success, the fact that I paid my respect to the Goddess by establishing her worth in a foreign land, it’s a huge enrichment to the soul and a tremendous boost to self-esteem in itself.

Calcutta brings along with it, emotions, which is largely lacking in the Bhubaneswar Me. It is as if a new Esh has been born there. It was worrying whether it had destroyed the older Me, but when I saw my heart miss a beat seeing all kaashful-fields, eyes welling up over the image of Home, I knew I’m safe. I’m okay.

It’s just one month in the new city, with many more to follow. I don’t know how I’ll make it, but I hope to do it with every pore of my energies. I hope to make the best of everything that the new city has to offer. I hope to make my family proud.

Asche Bochor Abar Esho, Ma. Asche Bochor jeno Ami Aste Pari, Ma. 🙂
May The Forces Be With All of Us.

Happy Dussehra, everyone.
Shubho Bijoya.

Micro-Tales #1 Strength In Disguise

There’s something about her laugh. She laughs like she’d keel over, laughing and fall on the floor. She looked like the happiest person in this world when she laughed. But she wasn’t really. In fact, she didn’t even really laugh at all. She disguised it all the time. She laughed because she needed to show everything was fine with her. She laughed and that reminded her how hollow she is, that she has to fake her own laugh. She laughed at the whole irony of life. She laughed at the screwup that she was. She laughed because that’s the only way she could control herself. Stop herself from screaming out aloud and going insane. She laughed because she was just a step away from a complete break-down. She laughed because she couldn’t cry. And it was as simple as that.

She had to laugh so she laughed.