anti capital.

life in Delhi.here is what the sizes are.
small : ages 20 and below.
medium:ages 20 to 30.
large :ages 30 to 40
XL :ages 40 and above.

20 and below is where you get to show off your dads car and look good and be young,and hang around cooler malls during the day.home by 6 .and continue to be cool within the confines of the home.

medium is if you are of those graduate who have a fairly decent job...living in a den of sorts with one or more people of the same age and income bracket.another yuppie establishment where bartan and bathrooms are on principle not cleaned ever.cigarette butts and bits and pieces are left to create a comfortable clutter.a Levis leather patch is the butt / bench mark.books,booze,Internet and clothes are a contrast to to non functional flush and the door off a hinge.this is basically for the out of towners who come in search of work,or stick on in Delhi to work.the family takes on a new meaning...including flat mates/room mates etc.devoid of parental pressure...they think life is a party bcoz they can live in with the boy/girlfriend guilt free.spend as they want,drink etc without a worry,an build up an image with all that they buy off the racks.

large..you've pro just got married,kids,dog...all the bourgeois endeavours to buy a great car,find a new place to live in,is the school you choose hoity toity enough,is your kitchen fancy enough...this is a pupal stage.the butterfly emerges in the next stage.

xl....butterfly at last.you could be bong,mallu,punju,maru,bihari or whatever.of course at this level,the only time time you return to your original form is when the bong will not cook machcher jhol-bhaat.but a fish something " with a delicate flavour,a speciality of the Bengali cuisine,served with rice." maru,punju and bihari will have similar modifications.
.the up-ite could remain very cultured or very coarse.and a punj will want his daaru-shaaru no matter what.
yet essentially...you remain Delhi-ite. neatly trimmed house - plus-lawns. cars in the plural.furniture,wall paint,lighting,tableware...all co ordinated and chic.you are basically shopping from the same racks.

yes...there is old Delhi,Nizamuddin,north campus and jama masjid and lal quila.where you realize you are a prince if you got 50 bucks in your denims.where there are non veg kadais beside open drains.and its nt just cats and dogs,but also cows and goats who are strays.there are nooks and crannies in the outer circle of cp,dusty and dark.....where you will get books and music and hookahs .and the cafe with rickety furniture .or cheap beer joints.north campus is a different place altogether.it demands homage as does Mecca or the Vatican.

unfair as it may be to draw a comparison....i think life is far better in any other place....cal,bombay,blore or guj...the places that i have lived in in....ranging from anything like a month to a lifetime.

phone booth and policemen.scarce in Delhi.in all other places one finds a pco both in almost every corner,main road,highway or residential area.at every pan wallah and petrol pump.those rupee coin boxes.yellow booths.....whatever.and traffic police are the best to give directions.after all if you are cocooned in you air conditioned car you do not need a phone booth,i surmised while scanning the streets for a policeman.every time im lost looking for an address in another of those cushy housing nooks...i know im really lost.and my standard "independent woman" phrase..."ill call if i get lost"...holds no value.in the perfectly rectangular res blocks,the sudden shops,stalls and stray plant is not encouraged.ITS A PLANNED CITY....thus spake the people.
of course...i fumed.i planned on getting lost.and all the housing complexes,societies and appartment blocks in the other places are products of whims.wasnt it anticipated that weher there are people....there shall be a local grocery store,a veggie wallah van on wheels.a rickshaw stand/auto rickshaw stand is st up.basically all the amenities that civiled society would like to avail of.plans ....

for ages i had called anand "mera gaaon."oh bcoz every time i needed new denims,indulge in mall culture or look for gelato(in vain) i neede to drive to baroda or ahmedabad.all that changed soon.CCD,Pizza Hut,Reebok,Sony,City Pulse and wht not soon created a neon glow in anand. now i shall call Delhi "mera gaon".thew nearet sabzi mandi,grocery shop,supermarket,stationary store is just a car ride away.a couple of kms....not much.the bullock carts went out of fashion years back.fruits are so so EXPENSIVE.hoe do ppl eat???no wonder fruit bowls are designer items in those home stores.bhak!
and if i happen to have one of those night time food cravings....for ice cream or something as petty,i only have to nurture and fantasize about it till the next morning.BCOZ SHOPS CLOSE DOWN BY 9PM!!!!unless im in north campus or cr park or something.

the Delhi metro.'its so cool...so fast....so much easier.obviously..it s a metro.and its cool in a impassive slick steely way.air condition and all.i remember in cal....school uniform days.id run in between eh pillars when i was a kid,and lounge around with the attitude when slightly older.the trains would whoosh by in both directions...and i would remain sitting on the steps.because i had no direction to go to...and i had a hand to hold.i was never frisked.and the metro still plays host to romancers and the suicidal.i remember my first metro ride....with ma to the book fair.the yellow plastic chairs have since then continued to fascinate me.

the public transport system.buses,auto or local trains...they are a classic example of democracy.of the ppl,for the ppl.and by the ppl.there will be an instant bonding between ppl.directions,a plastic cuppa,fight and arguments...followed by "peace bredder"...happens everywhere.local in bbay or guj or bus in blore and cal.the bus conductors are one of us....he shall make obvs that he has had a bad day...or he shall share his opinion on anything ..with he passengers.in Delhi....the bus drivers and conductors are these brusque hairy coarse ppl who don't even hear my question(or perhaps my Hindi is just too bad)the call center cabs are slippery.and the auto ricks just take me for a ride.literally.
and in all my life....no matter how crowded,crammed, and jostled...i have often nearly fainted due to the sweaty smell....but i have never had my bottom pinched.

pavements are strictly functional.pedestrians need them.except that there are no pedestrians.i miss cal....where pavements are non existent or are homes for the homeless.and in guj too....as the people would like it....and wherever.

im just not used to this.im used to going out at 8 pm just to chill with friends for some time.parents,how will you get back,stay over...and the worst....unsafe for a girl....ive never been faced with it.in cal or guj.there is always transport available....even at 11pm.there are always ppl on the road.and policemen too.so there.
i miss hanging out at the road side joints.puchka,vada pav,chaat,and juice...in cal,bbay,guj and Blore respectively...all 5 bucks.i miss the pavement cha wallah where we hang out for cha and a ciggie.
the cheap thrills of life have never been more thrilling or cheaper....than to make a 13 rs bus ride to Baroda,and 13rs back....only so that i could sit a day at crossword/landmark and read a book.

i can only pity the people who claim that life is good in Delhi bcoz ....well...whatever.i couldn't ever comprehend.id hate it if my city had to dictate terms.and lay down the conditions of being successful or not.if hate it if i was told how to live.what my lifestyle should be.
as of now....i dont have to CHOOSE a lifestyle mode and pattern.i can create my own.
i pity the young working yuppies....when they lapse into vacant conversation and allow hormones to take over....bcoz sex is the only thing that can give them a sense of achievement or of being wanted.im cool bcoz i am...not bcoz some one thinks so.
for those who swear by turq cottage....id say someplace else wins hands down.
for those who think alcohol consumption makes you more of a man....you are stupid.

once again....i hate Delhi.
in case i haven't been able to present a very strong case....do excuse.im too much in hate.

DNA test results.

i have been suffering of an id crises of sorts.of who i actually am.if my surrounding influences hadn't been what they have been...what my decisions would be like,my tastes,my choices.
would i want a money laden future,orwould i be a wild free spirit.would i be successful in the typically sense or atyical sense?will i someday manage to regain my urbane outlook or do i remain gawaar?
am i a city type...or am i home grown vegetable type...????
quarter life crises of sorts.....now solved.

My DNA scan and scrutiny reveals that i am a true bong.will always be so.proudly too.and everything that i shall do,will become and the be.....will be attributed to that fact that i am bong.
here's why.

1. convent educated.
every bong family wants a convent educated daughter or a daughter in law.and i happen to be from loreto house.
which translates into....I'm a snob.i WILL turn up my button mushroom nose if you cant speak English that way i do.i wasn't born or reared to cook or house keep.i hate boys and men who are ...well... boys or men.
i did go through the phase when i believed that values and ethics was all hokum.and loreto upbring was just over rated.and that i give two hoots about what is supposedly right or wrong.and i used to feel very injured when ppls reaction to LH was....."she is just snooty"
now....im glad i had LH.i am very proud that i am different.that i am justified in being snooty.i am proud of all the values and morals that were ingrained in me.they have been tested loads of times in the past few years.i am glad that no matter what.. i never denied them...and that was what saw me through,though often rocky...and not always apt...but i remained a lady, and standing.i realized i was a diff class altogether.yes,i am an elitist....in muy thought,expression and judgement.so sue me or screw me.
on that note.... as taught by the nuns...i at times too regard orgasms to be sinful.hehe.

2. typically bong...i have a sweet tooth.not necessarily for mishti and shondesh and all.....but for the goodies from nahoums,wengers,flurys....caramel custard and banana loaf,neapolitan,pudding....etc etc...in the heaviest form.

3. laziness.its a hereditary trait.if im not lazy....then im just lethargic.in everything i do.studying,working,implementation of a plan or decision,eating...sleeping,exercise...lazy love making too.when im not lazy...im just procrastinating.

4. opinion. a true bong has an opinion on everything.usually based on half baked knowledge.education,politics,phootball,socail trends and norms,lifestyle,food, life insurance.... and the fate of our environment.i do too.

5. an avante garde of parampara,shonshkriti and the esteemed "Culture".... i have to know art ,lit,music,poetry and dance forms.thus....
i do know more than a fair bit of robindro shongeet.and nazrul islam.i love ganesh pyne.and bhupen hazarika.uday shankar and bikrom ghosh.from there on....che guevara,plath and neruda,yeats and naipaul,freddie mercury and linkin park(sorry bhai....but i just dont like lin park), Tchaikovsky and salsa(which i cant do....) ...i am indeed the avante garde of sorts.dont recommend me to your kids.

6. sex. a durex condom sex survey revealed that bong women are the most adventurous in bed.well....

7. money.all bongs are lost when faced with it.they have zero investment concepts.no knowledge of the financial ups and downs.....hehe....im smarter...but as bong.
show me the money....and i shall buy books,and travel...and buy a car....zero investment concept.

8. boho chic.the bongs are naturally born bohemian.dirty clothes.all the vices...drugs,ciggies and booze.(ma..in case you ever read this....no i dont do all of them!!)batik and jhola bags.( fabindia fabindia fabindia....and khadi,khadder..etc etc) dingy places for cheap chinese,cha drinker(BIG TIME),loafer,dusty book shops giving discounts....even if i am in bbay or blore.pavement charm.natak and experimental art.

9. mothering.all bong women make fantastic mothers.take children to school,then tuition,then nach/gan/blah classes,supervise homework....provide nutritious tiffin and meals,clean and polish keds/shoes.... similar treatment also for husband,chchoto sister /brother....etc etc.
i am a fantastic mother.to animals...dogs,cats,bovines and poultry.the beasts in my belfry....ie the mad roommates,to anushree who always will need a hug and a scolding,to anyone who doesnt have a bath and does no laundry.to anyone who is still recovering from heartbreak.(yes i will kick your arse and get you going).to anyone who needs to be shaken and scolded to get going.and yes....also to muy bhai and ma.kids....im allergic to them.

9. i am a bong when it comes to having an issue abt marriage,music,men...
marriage....never.bhak!!!
men.....o god..stay away.
music...yes i was subjected to piano classes.western classical music in the purest form....with a mem buri for a teacher.trinity college and all.
and i am a bong....kurta,denims,kajal and free.

joy bangla???

delhi lows.



......this isnt anything....just a mood...an outing.
three broke kids.one injured.and an entire evening to do nothing.

so i went hunting in delhi.for a bit of calcutta.beyond flashy cars on clean roads.


and we were in the by lanes and mazes in nizamuddin.

beef rolls and coke...when we are broke.

and my chef ....in the seedy star hotel....an ex convict.man, am i priveleged....
...
and we fooled around.
much to the wrath,whines and whahwhah of sheep and koala..i shall ignore and deny all pics of the hoggers!!!!and also posers!!!

heres the manufacturing process....




















and the secret recipe revealed...!!!....and as the koala was injured and couldnt walk...we retired early.one hurt.
our cubby hole in a total punj locality.every time i step out into the balcony...i am greeted with the happy sight of yet another punj housewifes laundry achievements displayed in her balcony.



and just below our balcony is a dhaba.behind a parking lot of sorts.beneath the street lights.and all muy punj puttars ,beefy or skinny,jobless or goondas,coolio or paiji...this is their hub.

and muy fav is this dude on the right.i know not who he is attached with....but he makes a statement always.this was the one packed with appeal and attitude.

graduation colours.

i had maintained my principles.i don't cry.i don't let my friends down.I'm imperfect in every way except when it comes to loyalty.I'm fiercely protective about somethings.i need not justify myself to anyone but myself.

for 4 years.... i held onto friends/company.
i never cried...no matter how extreme or severe a situation.
i was always loyal in a rajput way... to what cause or who i rarely knew... but i was taught to be loyal and devoted always.and thus i was.
i was under the impression that education has been a waste as far as i am concerned.that this "degree" was a farce.and my college has been the least of my concerns,or priorities.
i vowed that i would never return,not for a proff or a student.not for any exalted dogmas imparted as the old sense of education would demand.
of all the people that came and went.....the only friend and partner and companion i valued and loved was the street stray.

till the day i graduated.
during which i laughed and gaffed.... in a crudest of ways.
it happens just once in you life...some one said.like you lose your virginity,i had retorted.
My mother was thrilled....her first born was graduating...for the first time.
My sarcasm got the better of me....there's a first time to it all....even a first marriage.

guys cried...i smirked and lifted my button mushroom nose in the air....as high as it could go.
i remained unmoved.

till the buses started rolling away.and the fancy bikes that i despised kicked up a sand cloud for the last time.the train pulled away ....and again...and another train.
one figure remained standing on the platform.he doesn't just do an about turn.i don't know if he walks home ,or stands there for a fraction of eternity.

i realize that teachers could be bastards.but there are some who are worth it.who i shall call a professor in all pompadour.because they taught me respect by respecting me.
that i shall always uphold education....when the chai-wallh and the chem lab peon tell me to study ahead and do a post grad...i was so humbled that did a pronam.much to muy own surprise.
my mess cook....who had put thru rigorous and regular starvation diets...asks me to have lunch with her on the floor.... not at the bench-and-tables.

i realize that muy friends werent the people who were my type.they were those who werent.bcoz they didnt understand me always...for what i did and said.
they just hovered somewhere at the back...knowing i would need special witness and social protection after i have made that mistake. they never turned their backs on me.

we didn't want to come back ever to college.we had no inclination to.

while the boys left...in ones and twos....i just watched.we all looked forward to something.after four years of inertia and dormancy.....some had post grads...or a job.
some were already married...a wanted to be there.some were homesick...and had realized that they had responsibilities to live upto.

till they left.... we didn't realize that what we had left behind.... was what was so vital to us.a brotherhood,a lifestyle,a system.
we needed each other like we needed our toothbrushes.

to all of us....the class of 2007.
poised to face the world.and each has a diff world.
hope and faith.
i was eventually convinced that fate and luck exist.and that it had touched me too.
celebrate....the fact that we found each other....
that we fall back on each other.
that we shall walk ahead,or march or gallop...so that one of us can always fund the phone bill.

with love to all.

ps.i cried too.the first of my "principles" that dissolved.

When The Ants Went Marching In.....The Ants' Legs.

the boring scientific,factual and technical ....all demands that i MUST elucidate a little... for the benefit of the ignoramus and the plebian...Ants are eusocial insects of the family Formicidae and, along with the related families of wasps and bees, belong to the order Hymenoptera. They are a diverse group of more than 12,000 species, with a higher diversity in the tropics. They are known for their highly organized colonies and nests, which sometimes consist of millions of individuals. Individuals are divided into sub-fertile, and more commonly sterile, females ("workers"), fertile males ("drones"), and fertile females ("queens"). Colonies can occupy and use a wide area of land to support them. Ant colonies are sometimes described as superorganisms because the colony appears to operate as a single entity.

the morphological divisions of the ant body is divided into the head,the thorax and the abdomen.the legs are six in number.... or as the esteemed entomolgists would jargon it..... 3 pairs of jointed legs...all of which arise from the thorax. each of the legs have 6 segments.... where the tibial spur is the vital segment which aids in motility,speed,defence and the other wondorus aspects of this little natural wonder.

the most fascinating ( only a 6 year old or a nature freak or a entomologist would find this fascinating....however... since im catering to a broad spectrum range)....is thatSome ants have a stinger and some can even inject poisonous acid from the stinger (the stinger is at the tip of the abdomen, the rear body segment).
i apologize( even though i am not responsible for designing or engineering the ant and its mechanisms).. that the sting is not a part of the leg.
partly because there is not much more to elaborate on the physiological or anatomical details of an ant leg....
and partly for the more flighty,err sorry.... LIVELY subjects......

heres the funny thing about the things that dont matter.......unless they are all over your bed while lie sleeping.....

they have been subjected to the mental vagrancies of peculiar scientific directions..... the long and short of it...... a certain Professor Harald Wolf of the University of Ulm, ( no i am not fabricating)....actually postulated that the ants have an in built pedometer....( that is an instrument which is used to measure distances travelled but counting the no. of strides on takes.)
the mathematics.... or simply the calculative results reveal... as per his research....it takes them a thousand strides from the nest to the feeder, they would of course assume that they needed to take another 1,000 strides to return to the nest.

"And if they take the 1,000 strides with shorter legs, this will take them over a shorter distance, and if the legs are extended it takes them over a longer distance"
here on.... the built in pedometer can be modified into a .... voila! ....odometer.!!!!(go look up the dictionary you nitwit)

and thus the attempt....prestigious study and scintific research which was of national importance revealed that ants could measure the distnaces that they walked etc.....and the final result of this swiss and german government funded study was published in the english journal called "LiveScience".
heres an extract from it.....

The ant "pedometer" technique was first proposed in 1904, but it remained untested until now.
Scientists trained desert ants, Cataglyphis fortis, to walk along a straight path from their nest entrance to a feeder 30 feet away. If the nest or feeder was moved, the ants would break from their straight path after reaching the anticipated spot and search for their goal....
'Next, the researchers performed a little cosmetic surgery.
They glued stilt-like extensions to the legs of some ants to lengthen stride. The researchers shortened other ants' stride length by cutting off the critters' feet and lower legs, reducing their legs to stumps.
By manipulating the ants' stride lengths, the researchers could determine whether the insects were using an odometer-like mechanism to measure the distance, or counting off steps with an internal pedometer.
The ants on stilts took the right number of steps, but because of their increased stride length, marched past their goal. Stump-legged ants, meanwhile, fell short of the goal.
After getting used to their new legs, the ants were able to adjust their pedometer and zero in on home more precisely, suggesting that stride length serves as an ant pedometer."

this bought on a lot of outrage and reaction from amoeba equivalent animal activists.... in the form of juvenlie bloggers and drama queens.....and they used words like "karma whore".i plead stupidity and know not what and who is karma whore......

i do remember reading that the nobel prize winner in science... dr. richard feynmann had done a test on ants.... in a fit of boredom (and perhaps the sheer frustration of the inertia of his physics)... that he tried a memory test of sorts on ants......and tried to ferry them from point A to point B....using a certain amount of sugar.
the outraged ant lovers ..please note the act of kindness... and readers plz note that this wasnt a study of national importance.... but one of domestic disaster as the good mrs. feynmann had to deal with the loss of sugar and the sudden appearance of an swarm of ants....

i am unable to get poetic or even be literary about an ants leg in an abstract way.....im sure they are beautiful(!!!) and are amazing subjects of study......
but heres what is apparently true...( and very ridiculous too)....
that there are tips and conclusions of how toc athc ants,their dietary perferances....(they r VeRY fond of seeds).
activities like ant rearing and ant fighting are popular(dont ask in which circles...),there are certain insecta which MIMIC ANTS(!!!!!).....

Ants have been acclaimed for their wisdom since ancient times. They stand out at, or near, the peak of invertebrate development, displaying memory, learning, and the ability to correct mistakes. However, these intelligences are trapped inside rigid and programmed behavior patterns.

WHATEVER.....

theres jsut a couple of things that i have to mention...... in relation to ants....

there are frequent un precedented ant attacks in muy room in the hostel. i find ants ants crawling about all over the floor and the spew forth in the most lewd manner from all corners and crevices in between the tiles. the only effective way of dealing with this is...."puddling"
puddling is a system of flooding paddy nurseries.... a pre requesite in paddy agronomics to obtain a good crop.
puddling in muy room refers to the rapid emptying of about half a dozen buckets of water in muy room..... in the absecne of a hose pipe.... and allowing the water to naturally drain(read flow out) and artificially evaporate( read dry under the fan).

secondly.... there is a certain gentleman whom i had net some months back.... who "feeds" ants every evening while he stomps about on his evening walk.this comprises of sprinkling a mixture of flour and what not on the ant hills he sees on the roadside.
his rather beeligerent logic ...or counter question left me dumb founded....."who else will feed the ants..."

so much for them ants.....!!!!!!

Dear rest of the world.....

Ladies and Gentlemen
If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.
The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh nevermind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked…
.You’re not as fat as you imagine.
Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum.
The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing everyday that scares you
Sing
Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss
Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself.
Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch .
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.
Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children,maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…what ever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..
Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go,but for the precious few you should hold on.

Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.
Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.
Respect your elders.
Don’t expect anyone else to support you.
Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.
But trust me on the sunscreen…

from anushree to me..... she understood it all.

Slow down, you crazy child
you're so ambitious for a juvenile
But then if you're so smart, tell me
Why are you still so afraid?
Where's the fire, what's the hurry about?
You'd better cool it off before you burn it out
You've got so much to do and
Only so many hours in a day


But you know that when the truth is told..
That you can get what you want or you get old
You're gonna kick off before you even
Get halfway throughWhen will you realize,
Vienna waits for you?


Slow down, you're doing fine
You can't be everything you want to be
Before your time
Although it's so romantic on the borderline tonight
Tonight...Too bad but it's the life you lead
you're so ahead of yourself that you forgot what you need
Though you can see when you're wrong,
you knowYou can't always see when
you're right. you're right....
You've got your passion,
you've got your pride but don't you know that only fools are satisfied?
Dream on, but don't imagine they'll all come true
When will you realize,
Vienna waits for you?

Slow down, you crazy child
and take the phone off the hook
and disappear for awhile
it's all right, you can afford to lose a day or two
When will you realize,..
Vienna waits for you?

And you know that when the truth is told
that you can get what you want or you can just get old
You're gonna kick off before you even get half through
Why don't you realize,.
Vienna waits for you
When will you realize,
Vienna waits for you?



thanx babe..... as always.... your a brick.

red enterprises


There could have been 12 people who died in some government hospital due to wrong treatment or neglect.There was probably 12 people in some slum who died due to a combination of illness,starvation and living conditions.There might have been 12 beggars who died.The media decided that all of that wasnt worth precious air time.Instead they did a thorough coverage on 12 lives lost in a small place in West Bengal.
Thus,what eilte Mumbaii-kars and Delhi- ites have been referring to as "Mamtas latest" came to be re-christened as "The Nandigram Issue."
And along with the 12 "innocent " lives lost... there must have been more "innocent" lives lost which were un accounted for as they were sheathed in uniforms.

I have to admit that i have been denied the privilage of the exhaustaive reports that regional news channels must have provided... but from this end of the country, based on the coverage that i could get from CNN_IBN and NDTV.. it seems to me that the protest is gradually losing its direction.First it was against the act of wrongful acqisition of land,then the "massacre"and the violence against women... and ultimately the entry of the Calcutta social and cultural la-di-da and the Jamaat–e-Ulema-Hind, proved that all the "protest" is actually just a very strong emotional reaction provokedd by media potrayals of helplessness agianst the backdrop of rural poverty.
And it seems shamefully provincial to give every action and voice an identity.... Bhattacharya being a hardcore Communist,Mamata being an incorrigible maverick,Nandigram being a Maoist place.... seemingly feminist women....... how did it become a humanitarion issue...????
Not that i value human life with a pinch of salt.... nor do i expect anyone to martyr themselves to a cause... nor do i blv that bloodshed is the only way to pronounce a protest as effective..... but i 12 lives lost for a cause IS something to commemorate every year.... not to pronounce it ( and all roads leading to and from it ) as a "humanitarian "issue....

IT would be far sensible now if the agitated personnel would now cool down and promote the cause of estabilishing the Tata Motors manufacturing unit.Of course the problems and obsatcles that will have to be in-evitable need to dealt with in a more efficienct and speedy manner.

Bhattacharya's foresight and decision to develop Bengal and encourage industrialization is commendable.The only flaw was to violate the property rights of farmers.And the un precedented violence that followed.or maybe not un precedented.
Bhattacharya's attempt to foist industries on unwilling people WOULD lead to violence.. not to mention the damage caused to the very cause he is espousing.

Furthermore.... the farmers' attitude is no less shocking.Industrialization need not necessarily spell doom for them.The approach to the of the Tata plant may be harsh and inappropriate.... but then everything in Bengal is stirred to controversy.
If farmers are to be peasants... then of course the loss of land is sacrilege.However, if farmers can rise to being people above the level of medievial serfs... then they might be able to see that "industrialization" could spell rural electrification,better health and education facilities,telecom networks,connectivity, communication and road connectivity... all of which could eventually lead to better living and more exposure to the non-rural world.

The scary aspect to all oif this is the thought of the resisitance that might be offered to every act of progressive economic industrialization in other parts of the country.... and does the Centre or State really have such unimpeded rights to acquire land.... for whichever cause and place....Will every farmer be rendered helpless when a plant with intimidating machinary is set up...?
I hope not.

Most States in th Western part of the country... and especially Gujarat has shown a far more steady growth of industry as their take on industrialization is from a much larger angle.Industires can be promoted or attracted by dismantling red tape,framing industry friendly policies,preventing Government intervention,and reducing hierarchy in government proceedings.
There is also a very definite social structure to industrialization here.The Government starts at the grass roots level...literally at the "grass" and "roots" level.... where even farming is considered to be a business venture of sorts.There onwards... every individual is encouraged and aided to participate in free markets. The common people has learnt to think and look at a world beyond their cicumstancial flaws.They are not called the "Enterprising Gujarati" for nothing.
Gujarat has attracted more investment,indusrty and economic activity than West Bengal,or any other state for that matter... as the Modi Govt. has left the farmers and industrialists to negotiate with each other freely,with the state acting merely as facilitator.
The analysis and the choice to modify neo liberal draconian land laws first... and then proceed to the next point of contoversy.. is definitley not the best modus operandii.

Bhattacharya... who has learnt the need for industrialization, still has to do a lot more home work and thinking to do...and would do well to take a leaf out of the Modi administration.
And Bengal would thank him for it.

happy holi to me,hasta la vista and nightswimming. ive never been a very festive sort of a person.dont much like crowds,too loud laughter.. and flitting thru conversations and people and inert activity.i did play holi once.... long time ago.... baba took us up on the terrace.loaded with plastic artillary and aqua based ammunition.lol.i had fun.i was six. now... the only thing i look forward to this holi weekend is going and picking a good shampoo....and i salivate as i choose from vo5 sunkissed raspberry,honey and milk,passion friut ,cucumber and melons,balckberry and mint... these are all shampoos mind you..... heres a time when all the kids in campus are caught up in a mad frenzy of playing holi.... im trying hard to find the element of fun in being a hippo cum pig cum wilde african buffaloe rolling in mud,sliding in mud,donning a camoflauge to look naturally apish and cro magnon.and im still trying. there IS and element of bonding.of forgetting past differences without having to say anything.... a bucket of 1.5 % coloured solution and a laugh does it. a mature way of handling it im sure. an opprtunity to get "revenge"for something that occured some time between last holi and this one.girlfriend versus boyfriend.this is the last year.we never shall play holi together again. amen to that. these are the last few days.college finishes in a couple of months.academic pressure...ummm.well... whatever.post grad... whatever.work...whatever. where does that leave me...??? blissfully unaware. college.what about it.... people???events...??? ive had a great time here.muy college life has been the best. ive never associated muyself with it.ive had friends elsewhere.ive had classmates from school whove been there everyday for everything.ive had a boyfriend who was around for the best things and the worst. ive shared sunsets and greenery with ppl from home.ive done the craziest things from impromptu train trips to booze,rock and football... with ppl from home. ive grown up,down and sideways... and the crowd here have had nothing to do with it. in between bouts of tearing my hair,raving,ranting and sniffling about the state of affairs here....ive read a lot.thought a lot.become calmer.older.ive had a lot of time and opportunity to be thourough in everything from history and socio to aeronotics(which i dont get too much of..)ive had the privelege of being able to churn things in muy mind,digest it better.learn.formulate.think... it has no begiining and no end.ive survived on threads of nostalgia,the company of canines and bovines... and inevitably the two legged pre historics. iv become a person.. more happy and stronger to be who and what i am. ive become a recluse.very wierd.unsocial.unpresentable..(or so ive been told)... and im happy about it. i never was able to establish a "group"who id hang out with.. go watch movies... have "fun"... etc. yes i have had ppl.... whove got into trouble with me... me being the leader.i have had muy share of going out with friends. i discovered,quite happily,that i hate movies... sitting in the dark for three hours is a waste... rather get a cd and then talk about it and discuss it... not worth it otherwise. i have a few good friends.some of them totally not me.... but so human that i would be downrite shameless not to give them their due. i have loads of memories.... of falling apart,of numerous walks,of conversations....of being lonely. i have loads of baggage to take home....books,scribbles,poetry,unsent letters,sneakers..and muy cycle. i have loads of me that remain un fortified. ive loved muy college life.what it has given me.the space .the liberty.the opportunity. the fact that i can walk away from here without emotional attachments,romantic affiliations,things i will miss and all that. im a loner. im happy about it now. in the past it was simon and garfunkels" i am a rock" that was muy mantra.... it still is.... but this minute.....going back to all of you tht matter.... after going thru college.. i know ive grown.... ive come to terms with it and im happy.. to a certain extent. heres the song... in bits....for all those who and all that is just a memory.... and that helped immensly. i loved college..... Nightswimming deserves a quiet night. The photograph on the dashboard, taken years ago, turned around backwards so the windshield shows. Every streetlight reveals the picture in reverse. Still, it's so much clearer. I'm not sure all these people understand. It's not like years ago, The fear of getting caught, of recklessness and water. They cannot see me naked. These things, they go away, replaced by everyday. You, I thought I knew you. You I cannot judge. You, I thought you knew me, this one laughing quietly underneath my breath. Nightswimming. The photograph reflects, every streetlight a reminder. Nightswimming deserves a quiet night, deserves a quiet night.

slightly drunk........

im still digging for muy soul.
im still deciding on muy character.
im still sorting out muy mind.
im still figuring out muy life.
im still looking forward to "satisfaction".
i still have faith in obstinacy.
im still searching for strength of the mind.
im still waiting to witness a miracle.
im still listening to invisible silence.

sanitary napkins.

every being with a uterus has a right to them.they really cant be considered as a luxury commodity that only a ceratin people can afford....every girl,every woman needs one.

hadnt ever thought of it before.... but on a rapid small scale investigation,i learnt that the people in the villages and them who live in the slums do not use sanitary napkins.not that that is criminal....but its startingly unhygienic that they should use "cloth", that is actually scraps of their discarded clothes.these rags are washed and reused.... day by day,and month after month.the choice and effect of the detergent is of course questionable.the method of laundry...washing and drying hastily so tht "people dont see.." and the half damp and more stained scrap is folded and kept away for the next time.
infection,sanitation and general awareness is cheerfully denied.

i wonder why all the sanitary napkins ,specially engineered and designed to suit the female shape,to last longer,prevent side staining,to make you forget, and to keep you feeling dry... and waht not...for all for the young,urbane,smart women who need to multitask at every front and needs the vital package for those 5 days....

once again.... how about those girls who arent so well off.... go to the local municipal school.... or her in of those small town places wehre education for the girl child is another government moves.....when they distribute and encourage using condoms.... and when they introduce the mid day meal scheme in the rurals.. and when they send medicine etc in the name of womens health.....does sanitary napkins feature ANYWHERE????

is it a challenege for some one to come up with a zero technology and low cost variety.... that could just serve the purpose...and will the govt ever think of promoting sanitary napkins... or is it still too embarrasing to talk about.....

and till then.... we shall continue to wear cute pink outfits and dance to impress the boys... all thanks to our sanitary napkins.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007


Ive often wondered about poverty...or rather... about being poor.of being deprived of what i thought was basic non material comforts.Ive thought of them with the innocence of a 9 year old,I've tried to find answers to poverty with the passion of a 13 year old.i found poverty colorful when i fell in love with O'Henry at the age of 17.... and i was repulsed by it all when as a 19 year old... i thought i couldnt get any wiser.

And the Nithari case makes me think again.

What are the parameters of being able to be a part of the rich,affluent and elite??What are the criteria for being albe to fit into the groove of upper middle class... or lower middle class.

What is a slum?Does a colony or society or a bong para consisting of a cluster of bunglows with various levels of maintainence and assorted scraps of lawns seem like a slum of sorts.

What would it be like to have a lifestyle which is a product of improvisation?What do they eat when they have "nothing to eat"?And what type of medical help can they avail of?Can a father walk into a bank and apply for an educational loan of "rupees seventy only" when he cant pay his childs school fees some month?Against what....?His 8 ft by 8 ft shack with a tin and tile roof....???
How ironical is it that they are expected to have a voters id card as proof of id ?Why mock at their disadvantage and expect such documents from them when they are denied basic recognition for being human beings??

How come the police can be nonchalent towards one distraught parent,but will return another child to his "affluent" home?
How come we are so biased that we think that missing children and runaway daughters or wives can only be products of bad parenting or unhappy marriages?What about celebrity sons and daughters who are victims of drug and alcohol abuse or can run another man down with his car,or can abuse someone less fortunate... or whatever.
Not that visiting politicians made a difference....but the stubborn refusal to even attempt to express sympathy WAS surprising.

We proudly call ourselves "society".We make and modify the rules to make "socially acceptable norms".Yet we fail to ensure social security to those who are not a part of mainstream society.

We shrug and say "UP Police".And it was the UP Police who displayed such moral backbone when they harassed young people who were in love and thus held hands.

Where does this leave me?If i dont have a flashy car or the laptop that ive been wanting for some time....am i poor?
If i dont get complementary passes or an invitaion to the latest do in the city .... am i poor??
If i go to the police when i need to..... will they see me as poor??and thus turn me away??
If i wasnt able to speak english,and be a sample of "Good schooling from reputed institutions",would i have been poor???
If i was a criminal ....would i have to be poor??
And so what if i was poor.???

i dont know enough sociology or economics or any other subject to be able to use technical terms or offer a seeminlgy scientific explanation for what could be natural phenomena...
Im just DISGUSTED... that policemen.politicians and the other leaders of our country are so....natually inhuman.

and this has no conclusion,or a result to the "Probe".....
just condolonces to the parents,and a prayer for the children

Adieu.


I remember my last day in Calcutta before i left for college.And by the way... it shall always be Calcutta,or Cal... but never Kolkata.

I remember the summer sunshine,the blue sky...and that i was sweating on that unusually humid day.Amid last minute shopping and completing minor errands,i paid homage to my alma mater...Loreto House.I stared at the red church steeple,and the yellow walls from the pavement outside The Berkmyre Boys' Hostel,feeling the peace and protection that the walls offer.

I traipsed down Camac Street,Theatre Road....playing an imaginary hopskotch on the broken pavements on Lower Circular Road... recalling the times i "loafed" with Susmita and Pratibha.....

I was excited,I was hot.
I was happy,I was irritated.

I felt grown up; leaving home to go to college.
I felt scared,leaving home to go to college.

I was confident that I'd manage everything.
I was apprehensive about "everything".

Denims,my story books that amounted to a miniature library,sneakers and floaters(would i need any other form of footwear??)can i carry off a kurta over denims as formal wear.....
My favourite coffee mug,tons of staionary,my oldest colour pencils,and the pen with the broken nib,my Parkers,blue and black ink that would prob see me thru college(they didnt...)
Little reminders playing in my head all the while...

Like everything else in Cal.. the weather is as moody.It soon turned cloudy,grey... and yet remained sweaty.

I found myself standing at the Hazra Road Crossing.It wasnt a drizzle.it wasnt a downpour.It was something inbetween.

Soft enough to stand in.Effective enough to soak me to the skin in 5 seconds flat.

I thought of my two best friends who had left for college a couple of days back....college again.
I remembered that I was leaving too.
I looked at what i was leaving behind.

Though it rained,the chaos of the traffic did not cease.In fact it had increased because the traffic police had scurried off to look for shelter.
The tram made a turning,making a slight,but noticeable inclination to the left as id did so.Dignified and stately in the midst of the private tin buses who know no traffic rules.The hoardings on the face of the buildings screamed of tuition classes,coaching classes,opticians,doctors chambers and food joints..... all of which was crammed in the adjoining lane.

Overhead was a maze of telephone and electricity wires,and everything other possible thing which could need a wire.Wet crows perched on them.On the oppposite corner were remnants of yesterdays political larty meet.Another party...another meet...another traffic disruption.
Around me... colourful umbrella tops bobbed as the women beneath them moved around brislky.Once in a while a male figure would dart out from the sidelines(i.e.... a shop wehre he was standing to avoid getting wet)..into the middle of the road where he would hop onto a bus which would never stop,but might slow down if it was merciful.

This was muy city.This was home.The warmth,The colour.The mess.The dirt.The middle class lifestyles.

The rain trickled down my hair.
The tears were camoflauged.

No one knew i was crying.
I loved this place.....Why was i leaving....??
And i swivelled into the wet front seat of an auto richshaw,which had barely slowed down before it accelerated into the rain.

open air.....

another open air concert. they called it a rock concert...i want too sure...i just loved the open air bit. the people.. free movement...the strains from the loudspeakers and the lack of acousitcs...
boys jumping and monkeying...and doing the bhangra cum bharatnatyam,....
and there was just one thing that i missed...
beyond the "rock" and the people.....

i missed holding some ones hand....and the warmth that is not just the people laughing and singing or body warmth...
i missed the array of sweat shirts representing different brands and backgrounds from football to beer....
i missed having some one elses borrowed oversized sweatshirt to keep me warm...
i missed having a guy stand next to me.... so tht i could hold his hand and jump or sway ....

i had a great time though....

just a college student.

as a college student i know that we are not just the new generation..... we are to old to be described in such a cliched way.neither are we the future citizens et al....we get too intimidated by that.

we are just a generation of individuals,each with a different aim,an outlook.
we are more aware of whats around us,from the society and the endangered environment .. to the latest gadgetry.
we are more informed,have an opinion on everything..... and thus nearly always demand to be heard.

i can nearly always detect.... unfortunately cannot always comprhend... where life is taking a turn.
i see that the career amd the profession always gets top priority.. and then we all become human and fall into each others arms,crying or laughing.
theres always a broader picture to what is said and done.... and always a new perspective with each person.
and against the backdrop of college.... we all rise and fall...
its a security blanket for trying the untried ... and a reason to go ahead in life....
nobody is a loser for falling more than once.
no event is ever too insignificant.

and thus... as i can study,analyse and put into words... with intelligence and passion.... as and when required... and yes... i will lapse into being too judgemental at times.....or harshly critical.....

as un conventional and non conformist as i sound...

walking shoes.

i shall walk when the calcutta crows go home to their southern avenue trees.
i shall walk when you,or i ,are troubled.
i shall walk in school para,my para,flyover,delhi, anyplace....
i shall walk when i want to be me... dreamer,the wild spirit,the impulsive.
i shall walk when i want to feel the sunshine,the air,the happiness that i feel only with you.
i shall walk when i am alone.. and i miss you.
i shall walk when i think about you.
i shall walk when we cant come to a conclusion.... bcoz we are supposedly grown up.
i shall walk when i want to shed a tear.
i shall walk when you want to shed a tear.
i shall walk when i realize... not for the first time that i am not invincible.
i shall walk when i am defeated.
i shall walk when i am in love...
i shall walk when i have my dog.
i shall walk when i am misrable,or elated...
i shall walk just when you have thought that i am no longer incorrigible.
i shall walk when i am jobless...
i shall walk when i need to think.
i shall walk when i can no longer walk.
i shall walk when there are no roads.or a path.
i shall walk.....
come walk with me.

the tea drinkers association.
in the past four years that ive stayed in the hostel...we've grouped and re grouped our sisterhood....all over the cup of cha.
the ritual of coming back from college and drinking our mammoth mugs is comforting beyong explanation.no... we dont choose to hang out with the boys first... and we dont opt to go out to the local ccd and do it in "in stlye." the pavement chawallah sufficed occassionally... but we all agree that the single "cutting"of cha goes down like a tequila shot.

there is a strange fun in scurrying around to loacate a mug.. only to find that it has the previous nights dregs and stains,in the juniors juvenile attemtps to get the quantity of tea leaves,sugar or water etc correct,in the mad marathon to stop the over boiled cha from spilling out of the saucepan... and in deciding whose turn it will be to wash up.

each evening...we witness tears and tantrums,silly giggles and stories of our goof ups... or exmas that have gone bad... and the smart thing we did...
about professors and boys,
about parents and " i want to go hoooooome" ;
about a relatively intelligent topic or the latest recipe to a modified maggi...

there have been girls who have passed out,and have been replaced by fachchas who try to stick to their claim..."i dont drink cha... i drink milk."(haha... weve lost money in betting over the time duration b4 they succumb to the vice.)
we fall sick,we are tired,we are heartbroken and we are lost...
and we are there for each other.we've planned uour lives and our careers.

it has been understood that some will be the perfect housewife...and it has been proved that muy homekeeping skills are limited to washing bartan and i cant "cook"anything other than the holy cha.

the act of asking some one to have cha... its like welcoming who was the social outcast,comforting the girl whose upset for whatever reason,pepping it up... or whatever...
just have cha.
this is muy last year.ive accepted that its all upto me to get that mug of cha done for everyone.yes.. ive been bluntly told that there is no question of thanking me ever for making the cha,washing up,rounding up the herd etc... bcoz its muy duty to do it.fair enough.

i look at the motley bunch sprawled on muy bed....weary faces,impish exprssions,looks of lethargy,bubbling with energy...and above the steam that rises from the mugs... a wan smile of relief... or grin that warns me that something not too good is being planned.

i survey the array of mugs.at a subconscious level i curse... i have to wash the entire lot...i cant help thinking of all the seniors whove drank out of them... how and why we bought the one which looks like its been whacked from a railway platform tea stall... the story of how another lost its "handle"and one which proved that permanent marker isnt permanent.

i think aroma... cardamom,clove,ginger,basil flavour.
i think diet..."too little" ,"too milky","not sweet enough" ,"i cant stay awake on this"
i think lifestyle... tea at 2 am,11 pm...or 5 am b4 we go to sleep.
i think ppl...who deteseted tea but got addicted,who tried to stay off it but we wore down her reslove.

im leaving college in a few months.
and ill miss this bunch who raid my wardrobe every morning,and rob my stationary every evening to piss me off.
this family of the naka,the insipid,the boka,the STUPID,the brainless,the vacant and the babe trying too hard.

im already fighting tears... wondering who will be there to cradle each others moods every evening.
im smiling...wondering that ill no longer have to be a coffee machine,tea stall and alarm clock in one.
im relived ...knowing that kranti wont be barging into muy room at any goddam unearthly hour to demand a cuppa...

the tea drinkers association.
its just not enough to say that i love the members.
they are an extension of muy family.
just over a cup of cha.

crises...

i want a haircut...not that i need one...but i just want one.im sick and tired of my bland strands.they so reek of insipid good girl thing trying to act civil. if muy hair HAS to be wannabe... id rather its a wannbe junkie/pixie/wicked than a wannbe doll.why to girls have to be so stupid... and no.. being"intelligent" or a sassy street smart ass doesnt qualify as being sensible.

i want everything to be sent to muy room... i cant go out.so please send,courier or deliver things to muy doorstep.for the past three weeks ive been sleeping in a bus,bathing in alien bathrooms,seeing the scenery change too fast.. now im just plain tired.i want to stay in muy room and never step out.so please send the story book im yet to read,the pizza i havent eaten in ages and the boyfreind i havent seem in a while to muy room.

im suffering from a severe case of writers block.i have a lot to say and write... but i somehow cant seem to be able to go beyond scribbling.... what do i do.

these people.. the girls are so so virginal.they see stars when they "hold hands" with their boyfriends and have mind orgasms.sorry.... orgasms and condoms are dirty words."bitch" is the worst form of abuse... will someone please have sex...???!!!
and the boys... enough to make me want to be a nun.
a pre historic bunch of neanderthals.

i have to do something to re affirm that i am a non conformist.
i have to do something to know if i am still as bohemian as i was in school.
damn.. what has college done to me.

i need to get my post grad modus operandi in order.at least a blueprint.
i have to study...(????)

i miss home... but am trying to figure out what and why... i had thought i was over it.
how can one ever get over home....

i need a huge,strong,male bear hug.. the type that says its ok....
as usual the male in question is absent.

%$#&&^%.... im getting rid of my tresses NOW....any suggestions...

and yes... muy nose is running...
muy feet encased in muy socks mite smell...
im upside down!!!!!

ps... muy feet aint smelling... but muy nose is running.

mother hubbard does laundry...

its become a weekend activity.... a ritual,the sanctity of which must be upheld at any cost.....
the week's laundry...
all that accumulates.
finally saturday morning dawns....
the newer technological products like washing machines havent reached our good ole establishment as yet.thus 5 am...i fortify myself,and dispel all fears that one day i might open my cupboard to find that i have no clean underwear or socks...
i go through the drill.... soak it all in the largest bucketful of warm soap water...spend all my energy in scrubbing them,till i am drained.put it all out in the sun... neatly spread and all possibilities of creases are effectively dealt with.
as soon as they are half dry i whisk my fabindias and other khadis and blah to dip them in 0.75 dilute starch solution.
as i have no inclination nor the energy in me to wash anymore.... i choose to continue to live in my denims....they are spared the treatment that mite seem to them like spartan cruelty.
it is the the greatest feeling to fold them in the evening... the fresh smell of detergent lingers... and the warm sunshine is.... just so warm....
the next best feeling to this is..... ummm...
jim morrison and beer.
making out in the afternoon rain....
driving into a sunset....
all of that..

.... in the name of love...

ive meandered through it.ive dwelt in it.
ive glowed in it. ive risen in it.
ive loved.ive been loved.and i loved it.

ive been so in love
felt walled in...thought i was protected.
lost perspective...thought i was secure.
felt happiest.. thought i was special.
obsessed...no thats exaggerated....but i thought it was passion.

i never realized that i was losing myself.
my independence.my confidence.my beliefs.
i dont need to verbalize everything.
i believe that soulmate and all is just hokum.
i was compromising on my precious,private cerebullar space.

i want to be totally alone again... and not to miss you every time im alone.
i want to think,analyze and criticize.. not to dish it to you as entertaining cute shit.
i can be a fallen human by myself.. i dont need a pair of human arms to fall into.

yet always...
i will demand respect bcoz im a person.. not coz im a woman.
i will look for a shoulder.... bcoz i will cry if and when i when i have to.
i will have my mood swings and be difficult...and expect you to toleate it all.
i will,sometime soon,be wanting to have you around... but wont call you.
i will sway to the the music in my head all by myself.
i will brood ,and be grumpy... bcoz i love being grumpy.

i sound bitter,self centered,and betrayed....
none of it.
i just hurt myself.
i loved too much.
it wasnt your fault.the unsaid suits me.

now i shall return to being me.
thank you.
and au revoir.

morning raga.

it isnt like they show on tv..... pale sunshine and coffee mug.sleepy headed and dreamy smile.....

muy dawn.... 5 am... its stilll dark...
just back from a jog....(jog,walk,jog,walk......)dark.... the sky wasnt pink and golden.
the street lamps were on... and the traffic was giuded by the head lights.the few people on the pavements huddled around small fires....
thru this very urban dawn i heard some stray avian strains... and felt the dew moistening my jacket.
hooded figures huffed and by occasionally.....and i panted on...
back in muy room.... its still dark outside.
against a now dark blackish purple sky i see the black outlines of the decidous branches... scantily leaved.
there is no music for jumpstarting the day..... no reminders on littel yellow post its.
its just me.... staring thru muy window.....
im so content.so at peace.
im encouraged towards i know not what.
im energized..... and looking to channelize it.
im in love... with fresh air and what i have.
im talking to my ma.... a call just ike that.
im sleepy now.... so i shall shower and go to bed.
the end of my day.....

amoeba

thats what my mood is like rite now...
im shapeless.
i feel that my thoughts are bubble gummy.
im moving.... but no singular movement to muy motility.
i am a simple uni- grey- cellular thing.
i have a membranous covering... but man, am i thick skinned at times.
i absorb and process almost anything thru muy system....its always food for thought.
i am an amoeba...tremendously pseodopodic and extremely boring.

DISULLUSIONED

im not what im being made to be....
im not what all including myself think i am....
a shift in perspective....
intellect vs matter
spirit vs soul
substance vs fibr.
love vs being loved
needed vs wanting
and i am lost in trying to find the meaning.....

scraps for survival.

std...08163....
at times at the most desperate of moments.... and at times absent.
i love them.... welcome them.. look forward to them......


quirky....
we ve proved that even idea at times needs an idea or two.... and that connenctivity form rurals is poss.... gujarat and rajashtan to karnataka and pondicherry.we ve rejoiced bcoze we fit in anywhere and concluded that we dont fit in anywhere....we tried in vain,to figure out coffee table books,society wine and ....
we ve discussed the future... the job prospective and what not.... but not for ourselves....
we are happy.... and vague.,... and comfortable.

chintoo....
the ever faithful four legged guy around here..... will always be there at the end of my day... and his...and will walk me to the bus stop every morning.... before he goes on his rounds for the day....

punkk uzz.....
always there to listen to what im formulating.... a verbal outline before i frame the eventual blueprint.he always has the answers..... or otherwise pretends he does... till i find the real answer.he will cradle my lows... my mood swings...my radically difficult problems at times.....i love this dude....one cant get a better guy...
i just wish hed be honest about his age....lol.

deepak,.,..
my best bud here.he shall freak only if you spell his name dipak.... nothing else would otherwise lead him to react violently.the most staid and dependable guy.an integral part of college.will need a wake up call half an hour before an exam. and will be in a foul mood if sleep is compromised specifically for academia.lost at times,... but (thankfully) never for long.

ndtv....
simply... my lifeline....

everything else....
thank you for having contributed in ways that you have.
.. my cell...
. a literary print....
..my floaters....
.. my cycle....
i love you all.....

security.....
knowing that the electricity is not going out for lunch any time soon.....
alert.. im having a great hair day... in "love- at- first- sight" with my tresses.
which means i am in dire nee of a hair chop.i think i shall go bald this time. and get a third set of earholes. and a nose stud. either actually.. not both....
god..( who looks after all the animals in this world... assistant of st francis...)... i pray for your blessings... and give me guts....

i want....

a story book.
something to do.
go out and have fun, hang out.... in the sunshine.
a like.
a dog.
new music.
my old perspective.
my denims from the laundry.
a wisp of pujo... and not from ndtv.
girl talk,coffee,pajama party.... hangover.
a long drive around the highways here.... that begins at 9 pm and ends at 3 am.
punjabi dinner at a roadside dhaba.
abhijatya.
...... and..... lemme think.....
naahhhh.. too lazt rite now.
till later.

Work Ex in Guj.... The Ups and Downs....

Thasra.
A tiny research "station". Single storeyed ramshackle biuldings scatttered all over the area... approx 30 acres.Stretches of sugarcane and paddy in between....in fields of water and mud.
The concrete lego structures house labs,offices,store units,ppl.... all of it.
The mosquitoes and the helpful staff rules.

Navagam.
The joint where tea and paan is a social taboo. There isnt a single cha walla shack. No sale of them in any form.... raw,unprocessed or readymade.....Tobacco is popular howerever... They grow it and thrive on it......
The Main Rice Research Station is here( read HQ). Establshd in 945. The buildings are in a much much MUCH better shape and condition.... state of the art lab equip and instruments.. brilliant staff and scientists.. a lake,the fields... and the wilderness made it more enjoyable

Godhra.
No sign of the genocide. A lonely sleepy town where all activity is centered around the solid red brick and whitewashed methodist church and the bus "adda".Banks,Hutch Shops... all here.
My find..... the absence of a single cyber cafe or a std phone booth in all of godhra town.
One guy reported that there werent any movie halls showing the latest movies.
Had to be a guy.....
Btw.. we were working on maize... will be back again sometime soon.

Khetada Gaaon....
Another small village where we were sent to conduct a socio eco survey in the middle of the floods.A little place on the banks of the River Mahe.....the hospitality we recieved was warmer that what i mite have got at a Taj....The mindset was surprisingly educated for them that are labelled "illiterate."
i spent hours sitting and looking at the river.... someone recommended the view from his roof.... so up we wnt.... a iron rusted ladder and sat on the tin roof shed staring at the undulating miles.... and the river winding its way around it......

Vejalpura
Fruit orchards.
Stop.
Nothing else.
Amla,guava,mangoes,chickoos,wood apples... un exotic all.,
We went smack in the middle of the monsoons when it was all flooded. we tramped some 8 to 10 kms of mud,abundant weeds and splotch of all sorts.. only to get a rough geographical layout of the place..... the rains made it impossible to do anything else.....
Tho we grumbled,cursed,whined and cribbed... the fact that we all had yet another pair of soiled muddy and dirty pants,socks and shoes to wash clean and dry did not make us feel any better.
Its good fun talking abt it now.
This place is off the highway...... no buildings,bus stations,phone booths, cha walla, bisciut shop, cigarette walla or anything 20 kms either way.

Gujarat State Fert Co.
A really neat joint.

Madhav Foods .
A pickle factory. run by an engineer. fantabulous.spotless. damn damn interseting.gives one l;oads of ideas. food processing... tremendous area...../.

Deen Dayal Chems....
Basically ferts and pesticides.... i have to admit that i was more drawn to the machinary and raw material processing unit.
Things like insurance,waste disposal,residue material continue to bother me.

Etc.
Loads of other places not worth mentioning.learnt little and was interseted in zilch.

The Guys in my class....
An indisciplined lot of hooligans.Junglees.Barbarians.
Pelvic thrusts and stick-out-butt to all them emran and reshamiya nos..... or whatever that happens these days......
Pigs. Donkeys.Oooofffff.. i hate boys.

And the girls.....
sweet,simple,boyfriend obsessed.leave me to my own devices and my space.

Gujarat.
I know i cursed the place in the past... and taht i will continue to do so... But this place is beautiful.....
Its so so green. the roads are good too. When id dreiven thru Bihar, Bengal etc with Baba.. it was beautiful too....

That part of the country is untamed ,wild .. Every blade of grass,every mud hut and every ditch has a mind of its own... established itself wherver ,and whenever.... the way it pleases.
i will never tire if noticing boundaries here. Indigenous sorts,chicken wire,or concrete walls....
Even the roads are so carefuly maintained... the metal edges....the white markings on the tar.....
Prosperous.... rich.. organized.....

If this were to be mu karmabhoomi.... i would have loved it......
The thought of getting to work itself acts as an incentive to work.....

The "Yatra".
The gujjugs are a "god-mad"lot.Every single mandir.. no matter how small and obscure; or moneyed and obscene..... they will have to darshan karo-fy.the bus driver,the prof,the boys... they will all want to see it.
At the cost of cutting short on work hours.. visit the mandir.
Ask for the local tourist spot... and every fool will direct you to a mandir.... 2 kms away or 25 kms away.....
MAD .......
At times i cant help thinking im on somr sort of a pilgrimage..... bhak.!!!

Chapaner( in the Valley) and Pavagadh( on the Hilltop).The Trek.
Chapaner is a fort city. A curious mixture of Muslim/Mogul structures,Jain temples,Rajput history and local folk lore.
Fits into no period in history.
Defies any logic to architectural style or material..... construction and purpose....
Chronology is absent.
A lovely place none the less..... Quiet.. Serene.....
There are some 5 to 8 villages in this fort city. who grow their own food and have their own cows/buffaloes ...All very helpful.. and give free advice and directions..... which caused us to get lost repeatedly.

Pavagadh.
Lost in the mist.
350 stone steps , or a short bus ride up there.... halfway to the top. Cable car after that.... or the trusted legs...
Disappinted... or rather irritated and annoyed to find yet another bloody mandir at the top.
A good climb nonetheless....

TIRING.

till the next update here.......
after another couple of weeks.

intimacy.
that your body sweat smells diff from your hair sweat....
that your hands on (or off ) the steering wheel indicated your mood...angry,pissed off,wicked,analytical,low....
that you sleep in an impossible way.... on your tummy,neck on the pillow and nose in the air..(???)
that you hold your fork according to how much you have to say while eating....
that you have to have an opinion on everything and you have to test them out on me.....
that you will never lose those stupid red ties....(shudder shudder shudder...)
that you will be thinking abt some concrete or steel of blah strutcture/material etc when you trace lines on my fingers..(dont you even try to deny it....)
that you will always love me.
and i shall love you back.

in all simplicity.

" .....since relationships are always ambiguous,
since my thought is only a unit,
since my thoughts create rifts as much as they unite,
since my words establish contacts by being spoken...
and create isolation by remaining unspoken,
since an immense moat separates the subjective certitude that I have for myself from the objective reality that I represent to others,
since I never stop finding myself guilty even though I feel I am innocent....…
so...i thought how would i ever be able to explain myself to you ? "

conffessions.

i am a SNOB.and a perrrfect bitch.
i am too lazy to lose weight.
i have a weakness for baby dogs,baby cats,baby squirrels,baby monkeys,baby birds.... and even baby humans.
i have never woken up and not remembered what happened the night before.
i have old fashioned... very old fashioned notions on family,work,priorities... the right and the wrong.... ethics and morals.. and love.
i do cry.... thinking of all my animals,after almost every secnd storu book that i devour,..... bcoz i miss school...
i do want a rich guy.... someone who shall buy me all the cds and junk jewellery and story books and what nots.... and also take care of my HUMONGOUSLY ASTRONOMICAL phone bills.....
ummmm.... i think thats it for now......

home coming queen.
back in cal.....deja vu.
the usual grind.

once again i came home to find that another one of my animals have died.
once again, i couldnt make it back in time.
damn the exams and damn the 2 and a half day train journey.

last time it was my dog.
this time its kaiser... the baby thing.
she left behind 4 two week old kittens...
they cant see ar walk.... rather crawl... or do anything for that matter....

my hands are a poor subsitiue for the warm mommy catty fuury feel.

my mum is rarely around.... i wish shed understand that she neednt work so hard...
what a pain.

and as usual... at 2 am...
i urse my drink.( a cuppa tea....) and socialize in front of the tv......
home coming.

all of a sudden.....

all of a sudden the break ups in every single movie make sense....
every reason is valid.. and needs no qed.

all of a sudden im so mad at all the women in the class...
what stopped them from walking away...or why did they wait so long to do it....
maria.... walk ,woman.
catherine.... you had to deal with the most diff of them all.... and you did a cool job of it.... your line abt not being able to take love goes down in history.....
sara... your husband was just another man... too obsessed with his work and his achievements and too full of himself... not some greek god.
faith....why couldnt you just tell him... was he too intimidating..
and eva... your man was an awesomw guy... but wasnt he man enough... why did you have to baby him....

all of a sudden...
i can no longer see the line between
being an average human being and being a doormat.

all of a sudden....
as i continue to love....
i wonder where i gave all my love.

all i want to love now is a dog....
muy books.....
ice cream....
all the old music while it rains....
being me myself and me again....

loving is such a pain.......
i need fresh air....

I'm sitting here in the boring room
It's just another rainy Sunday afternoon(except that it is wed...)
I'm wasting my timeI got nothing to do
I'm hanging aroundI'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens
and I wonder

I'm driving around in my car
im driving too fast I'm driving too far....(ha.. i wish that WAS happening...)
I'd like to change my point of view
I feel so lonely I'm waiting for you
But nothing ever happens
and I wonder
I wonder how I wonder why
Yesterday you told me 'bout the blue blue sky
And all that I can see ,is just a yellow lemon-tree

I'm turning my head up and down
I'm turning turning turning turning turning around
And all that I can see is just another lemon-tree

I'm sitting here I miss the powerI'd like to go out taking a shower
But there's a heavy cloud inside my head
I feel so tired
Put myself into bed
Well, nothing ever happens and I wonder

Isolation is not good for me
Isolation I don't want to sit on the lemon-tree

I'm steppin' around in the desert of joy
Baby anyhow I'll get another toy
And everything will happen
and i wonder.

moving on or whatever.....

kartik says hes not coming home bcoz he has placement( hes a closet nerd.)
rudhira is leaving for hyderabed.... google...
harsha had summers in bbay....( see i told you it would rain....)
chitra mishra dhish plz plz plz do not go abroad to work.....
aditya chat... one day he goes to noida.... two weeks later hes sent to uk to work.(!!!??)
punnk uzz.... though hes just a year older to me(or so he says... i dont blv him there even for a minute...) he seems to three years ahead of me academically and 5 years career wise...
anushree.... shes at red earth.... she ok.. she gets to meet/check out hot, older, artisit type men ALL DAY LONG....
quirky kulkarni..... got the best job... gruelling corporate work hours...all the equip and jazz he has dreamt of for the past few years.. yet no office cubby hole... just space...no co workers... just friends.... no pressure.... just him.
atri is working too.... well... so he says... he has his booze... his music top priority always.. his girl,his place,.. and the guy is too bong... has zero work commitment et al... awesome..
ponchy has her own ngo.. kudos child....

what happens to me.... im slightly scared now.. i dont even know where im heading.....