Lost Innocence


I’m shy…that doesn’t mean I don’t have a mind…

I used to speak my heart… people thought I’ve ego problem. Then I stopped reacting. Now I can pay more attention to the surroundings…

I used to believe in naive romanticism… the society thought I’m mental. Then I stopped believing. Now I fall asleep as soon as I lie down…

I used to be sensitive…unable to control tears, I used to give excuses to miss bridal occasions…my relatives thought I am unsocial. Then I toughened myself. Now I don’t cry even when the pain is unbearable…

I used to be scared all the time…thinking what if somehow I offend somebody. Then I became selfish. Now my BP stays normal…

I am shy…that doesn’t mean I want life to be monochromatic…

How I wish there was somebody to stand by my side and say, “Hey stupid! Let’s hug. I think we’re soul mates!”…


And mean it.

Escapade .......

There's this feeling... that I'm having a free fall...

what lies beneath is blurred

could be a bed of roses... or a bed of rocks.

Invisible.

If its rose, then I am lucky

If rocks...

well, then its going to hurt real hard.

This is strange. Meaningless may be.

Or maybe this is the sole reason why relationships exist...

Like a magnet... to pull you back.

You never get to see whether the bed was of roses or rocks.

For better or for worse...

That's good in a way...to have no idea what lies ahead.

...makes the journey fascinating.

Its sarcastic...

How we often spend a fortune to experience adrenaline rush...

when the real adventure lies in the little things we do everyday.

Yours truly,

Living on the edge, what does it mean?

You make a move and you'll fall...

Afraid?

Don't be..

The world's round, there's no edge.

Still...

We fall...

We make promises... we don't keep... we fall...

We dream... can't fulfill... and we fall

But the world's round... then?

We move too fast.

Stop for a while...

breathe...

Look around...

Someone somewhere is waiting for you.

Happy living...   

A DREAM VOYAGE

What lies behind us, and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.

I had a childhood dream…

I am bestowed with two boons by Satyajit Roy’s the mighty King of Ghosts. One, the freedom to travel anywhere…I just need to close my eyes and think about the place. And two, I can be invisible as and when I wish. Empowered, I opened my history book and started reading…

Suddenly the sky became bigger. Mud roads, horses, bullock carts…and lots of greenery swallowed me up. People around me are strangely dressed, busy doing different kind of jobs. Far away in the horizon, atop a hill, there’s a fort. A huge fort; standing at one end, the other end cannot be seen. Wearing turbans and clad in colourful tunic, fierce looking guards are picketing outside the fort wall. Some of them are loitering on the wall-roof; some are in the watch towers.

From the other horizon, a cloud of dust starts nearing the fort. The guards get alerted. They took positions. Within minutes he came. He, the King. He came riding a gold-plated chariot. Pulled by five horses, the chariot whizzed past the massive Iron Gate.

I sneaked into the fort. There stands an enormous palace; so beautifully crafted. Never-ending hallways, decorated pillars, doors and windows, huge lanterns – an aura of opulence prevailing everywhere. Behind the palace, there’s an endless backyard. Trees, flowers and the chirping birds – sitting among them is the Princess, humming the tune of the birds, lost in herself.

Who’s the Princess? I wondered.

It’s me! I fantasized.

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I have always wished at least one of my childhood dreams to be a reality. Didn’t you?

I know you did. Who doesn’t?

So the moment I came to know that there are the remnants of a fort, I went all out to make sure this trip to Garhpanchkot happens.

Garhpanchkot is a Santali tribal village, very near to the Maoist-dominated area of the Purulia district of West Bengal. The place was an unexplored tourist spot till it came to fame thanks to the two dams recently built – The Panchet dam on river Damodar and Mython dam on river Barakar; and the DVC power grid.

We, I was traveling with a friend and her mom, reached Garhpanchkot around 12 at noon. It’s about 5 hour journey from Kolkata. We put up at the WBFDC forest resort. After freshening up, we started towards the fort…  

Deep inside my mind, something was going on. I don’t know what it was. Did you ever get a chance to fulfill your childhood fantasy? Then you might know.

Dusk set in as we reached the doorstep of the King’s place. Time has unruffled the ancient king’s vigor. What was once an epitome of power and prosperity now stands crestfallen, left with a few structures scattered here and there. With the forever faithful Panchet hill keeping guard, the kingdom seems to have gone to an eternal sleep.

I touched the wall of an archway which used to be the Ranimahal, the residence of the Queen. I inhaled the air of the ancient world. I sat on a broken footstep of a watch tower.

I was shivering! An insignificant commoner I am, dweller of a far-off century - dared to make my way to the heart of His Majesty’s place!

The Past in Collage

I was staring blankly at a hedge of the primeval Panchratna temple. In the red hues of the setting sun, it was looking magnificent. It was looking so clean. Little by little, the weeds and creepers fall off. The broken archway took shape. The halls, the doors, the windows stood up. The palace is glittering like gold in the heavenly sun rays. Through the window I can see the beautiful backyard. I can smell the scent of the flowers. I can hear the birds’ singing. And…yes! I can…I can see a human figure amidst them! 

-Sangeeta, where are you?

I startled. I looked back. Auntie’s calling. I looked forth. The sun has set. The palace, the backyard, the human – all are gone. The hedge is fading away in darkness…I couldn’t meet myself.

I was sitting at a place where Auntie cannot see me. She got worried.

We humans are social being. We love to have people around us. We feel good when someone get worried for us, whatever be the reason. No happiness is joyful enough if it’s not shared. Sadness can take life if there’s no hand to console. But sometimes, just sometimes…being left alone is the most blissful thing you want.

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A leaf from the History:

Panchkot was a part of a very old East Indian kingdom called Rajchakla Panchkot, locally named as Panchet. It was established probably during early 90 AD by Damodar Sekhar with the help of Sardars of Jhalda. The kingdom derives its name from the main five (Panch) clans (Kot) of the locals.

The ruins of the Garh (fort) of Singh Deo dynasty, founded by Damodar Sekhar, located at the southern foothills and a group of temples are still standing there. The most famous being the Panchratna temple.

Panchkot Giri has its references in Puranas also. The place was then called Sekhar Bhum.

For more: http://www.wbfdc.com/gpkt/historical-ruins.html 

ADIEU CHENNAI

Why does it take a minute to say hello and forever to say goodbye?

I am leaving you one last time; with no desire to come back.

There was not a single day I liked you…..not a single night I didn’t dream of waking up in the cozy comfort of my own home.

Today was my last day at office here. On my way to office and on the way coming back, I was trying to remember all the funny moments of my life; like I do whenever I see a bride leaving her parents’ house forever; whenever I watch an emotional scene in a movie – I do so to fight back tears…

Human mind is complex. Isn’t it?

I remember those early days. How I used to grasp for breath after listening to a Tamil conversation for 2 minutes at a stretch – your people talk really fast; I remember the first day I sat on the gallery seat in a Shared Auto; I was so amused! I remember Anna Salai, East Coast Road – stunning roads, pacing you up. I remember T. Nagar – the only place always full of life. I remember Durga Puja in Besant Nagar; being near to one’s own community miles away from home – you showed me how it feels.

I have led an independent life with you - living on my own, with no elders to look over my shoulders. Sometimes it used to be fun. Staying out till midnight, sleeping till late in the morning, eating junk foods..... Sometimes my heart used to yearn for the gentle touch of a caring elder. Then you have silently consoled me with your soft morning breeze and a tender wind in the evening. You are so beautiful when you are silent.

Your people are workaholic. They work from early in the morning till late at night. Only twice a year they celebrate – Pongal and Dewali. You look really adorable in those days. Can you ask them to work a little less and enjoy a little more?

I can’t say I will miss you. You have your own charisma, mostly invisible – shadowed by too much busy-ness. Mad office-goers, way too predictable weekend shoppers’ crowd in T. Nagar and universality of Idly-dosa have made you look monotonic.

Still, going apart is always painful.

I am leaving you one last time…with all the good wishes in world for you.

MY FIRST LOVE

Your smell is like a drug to me…my personal brand of heroin.

[This blog contains hot and spicy materials. Readers are advised to sit in a cool place wearing light-weight pure cotton cloths and keep an ice bag handy for emergency.]

I don’t remember when we met for the first time. I was too young to remember anything…..

Yes, it’s a childhood love story. It started, when I didn’t even know what love is. He was not that tall, lean-bodied or conventionally handsome. But he had a very cute, lovely face. Every time I saw him, I used to die a hundred deaths.

He was a part of my life, a cause of my existence. My days were incomplete without him. A responsible, caring sweetheart he was, he was always concerned about my health, about what I eat. He made it a routine to be with me during every meal. I was so used to him. If some day I couldn’t see him, I used to go crazy. I used to cry like hell…

I was madly in love with him…

My mom knew everything about our affair from the very first day. And needless to say, she was against us. I don’t understand why parents have to play spoilsport in a love story. Is it a rule mentioned in parental guidelines? Then why almost in each and every love story they become the villains?

My cutie was really lovable. Even my mom liked him but she was not ready to let her daughter fall in love with a farm-boy. He was not in our social status. He used to stay in a far away village. Every morning he used to come to the city with his uncle who was a vegetable vendor, to earn some extra for his family. But it was hardly a matter for me. When you love someone, you don’t see his social or financial status. You cannot calculate your steps when you like someone. It just happens. But neither my mom nor my dad was ready to accept that. They wanted me to break up with him.

One day my sweetie came to know about it. I don’t know how he has felt. But knowing him for so many years, I knew it was very tough for him to come to any decision. He never wanted to steal me from my parents. Because he knew I love my parents too.

But I didn’t want to lose him either. I couldn’t imagine a life without him. Neither could I hurt my parents. I didn’t know what to do. I was feeling so helpless…

One day our family physician visited us. He saw me upset and wanted to know what happened. I couldn’t control anymore and told him everything. He gently wiped my tears and told me something which I have never heard, something which changed my perspective towards love.

You don’t need to be with your loved ones all the time to show your affection towards them. Love is an emotion and physical proximity has nothing to do with emotions. You can be miles apart from your beloved, but you can be inseparably bonded with him in your mind. If the society doesn’t approve, then you should not go ahead to give your emotions a reality; because you cannot ignore your society. If you truly love someone, don’t be defensive about him; let him go. If you still feel the same attraction towards him, you’ll know then and there, that your love is eternal.

This realization opened my eyes. I felt light, I felt happy. Now I don’t feel bad if he doesn’t turn up once or twice. But whenever I see him, I feel overjoyed. My feeling towards him has only become stronger.

My love towards him is eternal……

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My first love…..

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POTATO!!!!!!!! :) :) :)

STEPPING INTO ADULTHOOD

Laugh at yourself once in a while; give yourself a break.

Once upon a time, 26 summers ago, a married couple in Kolkata was expecting their first child. It was an ordinary, bright, sunny Sunday afternoon. Oblivious to the world outside that Bengali middle class family the couple belongs to, a new life was born…..

It was a girl. A cute little baby doll……..sleeping most of the time, waking up only to eat and play, before sleeping off again.

Days pass by, the baby grows up. Daddy’s little princess she is, busy all day to maintain law and order in her tiny kingdom. She has to make sure her toy-army is stuffed with tasty food and colourful dresses, her castle remains distinctively decorated with paints, papers, cloths all the time. And even after all such hard work, when the mommy-monster attacks her, she has to run for cover to her most trusted minister – her daddy….

The little girl now goes to school. Her first step away from her own little world was not so smooth though. She was hiding behind her daddy; holding his leg with all her strength, crying inconsolably. The poor teacher couldn’t lure her to the classroom. On her very first day to school, she bunked all the classes and came back home sitting on her daddy’s lap, eyes reddened, still sobbing.

Time heals wounds. Time makes people braver every passing day, to face the new challenge on the next sunrise. So, now the girl is braver too. She is no more afraid of school. She has found a new set of human beings over there. They are not like her parents, not like her uncles, aunts, grandma and grandpa. They are more like her – her size, her age, her mentality. They are her friends. Now she spends most of her time with them. But still, when her mom gets late to pick her up from school, when her relatives ask her to stay with them for a few days, her eyes sodden, she feels insecure. One thing she knows for sure; no matter how old she gets, she can never be independent, she can never stay away from her parents.

As per Indian constitution, people turn into adult on their 18^th birthday. Not defying the law, our little girl also grows up to an adult on her 18^th summer on this earth. She has finished her school and now she goes to college. College – an institution that brings out the woman inside a girl, the man inside a boy.

Three years of college was a roller-coaster ride. It started with a great enthusiasm and got over within a blink of eye. The girl did many things within these three years. She learned as much slang as she has not learned over the last 18 years; she learned to spend hours in front of the mirror which she has never done before; she neglected her studies to be with her friends and screwed up in exams which she could not even dream of doing earlier; and she learned a new game to play – gazing at men. She had a very lively gang of girls. They used to bunk classes together, hang around together and do mischief together. Twice a week, they used to attain a coaching class after college hours. Those 45 minutes of bus journey from college to coaching class was a joyride. They used to make fun of everything, giggle at everything and gaze at every good-looking boy around. Once they went to extreme. They kept on staring at a guy for so long that he felt very uncomfortable and got down from the bus way before his scheduled stop!

College ended like a sudden break and the girl stepped into university – a place from where one can see one’s future universe. The girl saw hers and one fine morning, she boarded a train to Trivandrum to build up her future, leaving everything behind. It was a summer Sunday again – an ordinary, bright, sunny Sunday.

The girl is an I.T. professional now. She lives in an unknown city with unknown people all by herself. Now she cooks – though at home, her culinary skill was limited to preparing chowmin occasionally; now she doesn’t need her mom to tie up her hair or to wear ear rings; she can do it herself. She earns well enough to ride a plane a month, which she could only dream when she was a child.

But………..

Something is missing………….many things are missing……….

She can no longer fight with her brother to be the driver of the bus they used to drive as children; she cannot wait for her mom to sleep off during summer holiday afternoons to steal the pickles jar and then get caught and beaten up; she cannot bunk classes, neglect studies, make fun and giggle and neglect everything as if the world outside her friend circle doesn’t exist. She cannot do all these things and many more – because she is no longer a girl……..she has grown up into a woman.

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Daddy’s little princess I was, I have finally stepped into adulthood – 8 years after my 18^th birthday…………………………..