Kolkata Winters

Winter is here in Kolkata - FINALLY ! Although it still  hasn't come with its usual sting ,but welcome anyway.

Winter in Kolkata has a definite definition , I feel. It is synonymous to innumerable things that make winter so special for Kolkata. 'Kolkata Winters' - this word draws an image in my mind , a very colourful one,  and here I shall try to pick out those colours and give each one a life of its own.

As soon as the Diwali( Kali Puja to the Calcuttans ) and Bhai Phota's over, people of Kolkata wait for their favourite season. It comes tenderly by the end of November and brings along with it happiness and a chilling warmth. Days become shorter and nights become so long.

U wake up in the morning, step on the grass of your lawn,  and you know that it's winter when the silent dews kiss your feet. Early in the morning , u can smell the heavy fog almost blinding your vision. Old and young morning walkers who otherwise throng the parks sleep peacefully, ignoring their health walk for once.

Our woolens and quilts which had been kept imprisoned for the last 12 months, in the dark depths of our cupboards  and bed-boxes are given their share of annual freedom. They feel the warmth of the sun and are made ready for service. All the shorts are discarded and the pajamas are pulled out and we start looking bloated due to the woolens. Small children don their colourful woolen garments and make their way school-wards in a sluggish gait. The cart of the vegetable vendors during the winter looks simply picturesque. They are decorated with yellow, orange , green , violet and so many other colours.

Morning is greeted with a cup of steaming tea and the famous 'Kochuri & Alur Dum' from the nearby sweet shop. 'Joynagorer Moya' is another thing to die for. People wait for the winter primarily for this, I guess. Every house build up their own stock of the same and every time you visit someone, there's always one in your platter. In the villages, the smell of jagerry (Gur) fills up the air. Women in almost every house start boiling the date- juice (it's sinful i tell you), and start making the gur. They come to the city in earthen pots, their mouths sealed with flour dough and dry shaal leaves. The Bengali Babus bargain on their high price and complain about the purity of the gur. Winter brings with it, mouth watering dishes in each and every Bong house. 'Koraishutir Kochuri', 'Muli ki paratha', 'Notun Alur Dum' are few of them.

And soon the time comes for 'Pithe' - another sweet-meat of the bongs . I want to be born as a bong ever and ever again only for the 'Pithe' , if for nothing else. In every house , the Mas ,Kakimas and the Didimas make different kind of  'pithe s'  - Patishapta, Sheddho Pithe, Gokul Pithe to name a few.

Short trips and long drives become common at this time of the year and the traffic increases manifolds. Our famous 'Maidan' gets busy greeting everyone irrespective of their social profile. The 'ghora walas' also have a nice time, with small kids having rounds and rounds of horse rides.

Picnics - how can I miss that ?  The outskirts of Kolkata also get busy at this time as huge 'Bagan Baris' get booked for picnics- Office picnics, school and college picnincs, local club picnincs , re-union picnincs - the list is endless. The hired buses smell of oranges, boiled egg, cakes and bananas- a common breakfast for the picnic. Children, and sometimes adults bring out their rusted badminton rackets, which otherwise lay abandoned at one corner of the house attic.

And then comes Christmas. 'Park Street ' - the very first name that comes to my mind while speaking of Christmas of Kolkata. Adorned with lights , Park Street looks stunning as ever . The decoration has not changed its pattern for the last god knows how many years, but there's still some newness about it every year. 'New Market'  starts looking like a Christmas Tree in itself.The christians of Kolkata throng the market buying Christmas tress, bells and Santa Clause models. It's all Red and Green, whichever direction you look at. New Market smells of vanilla . Christmas cakes beautify the old wooden shelves of 'Nahoum' - the oldest cake shop of the city.

And gradually , everything comes to a standstill on the eve of the next year. Before one can think of and jot down what one did on this present year, the latter bids us goodbye forever .And with a Bang steps in, the very fresh ,the very joyful , the very promising  and above all the very mysterious "NEW YEAR".

Winter passes on like a flash of lightning . So many events, so much fun , so many colours, all pass almost in the blink of an eye. And before we even know it, its gone and we again wait for the next winter to come and paint us all.

A LESSON LEARNED THE HARD WAY

I am very happy and relieved and this blog is nothing more than that ..

After waiting for almost 10 months , I got a job at a reputed MNC - level 5 company ...

Well for people who have no idea about what has been happening in my life for the last 10 months , let me brief you guys on it .

After my B-tech , I got a decent job.. I worked there for 2 years but then became a victim of the recession where thousands and thousands lost their jobs and I was one of them .
I was devastated. My credit card bills were almost a threat to my life. And then I had a loan to take care of ...But in those 2 years I made a huge mistake. I splurged my own hard earned money on every silly thing I laid my eyes upon . I threw party for friends , spent on costly dresses ,shoes, bags and god knows what not.

My dad  and many of my friends kept reminding me of my loan , but i turned a deaf ear to all that thinking that i can take care of that later . I thought that , this is my first job and my only responsibility was to enjoy myself completely. And in the course i saved nothing in those 2 years ... I had  squandered away almost 5.5 lacs in two years on party,food and other intangible nonsense.

But then 1 fine morning I realized that I no longer had my job which meant no more money. The banks started calling me up every other day for the payments and I was almost at the verge of losing my sanity ....
I started taking up tuition which hardly met my bare minimum...

My dad supported me to some extent as he wanted me to learn a lesson the hard way. But my boyfriend was an angel . He helped me a lot during that time . He took care of a huge portion of my expense and I shall never be able to repay him for what he has done for a bankrupt girl. But more than anything, he taught me how to use money wisely.

I spent days of humiliation and self pity .,.. It was a long wait .. I went through mental trauma , in habituating myself to the life which I had no idea of .. A life without shopping and luxury... But , then in the long run I understood the worth of money and what went into earning it.

Yesterday , after 10 months of long wait , I got a great job ... I was interviewed on the 14th ... It was a tough one and I had least expected to bag the job ..

But , I got it and now I have promised myself to use money wisely and set my priorities.

I dont know if my readers will like this blog as it is devoid of any spice. But this is a real piece from the toughest phase of my life and about a lesson learned the hard way .......

AM BORED :(

For the last couple of days I am getting bored to death ... My life has seemed to boil down to a whole lot of nothing . My TV at home is out of order for quite some days now , and my dad seems least interested in getting it fixed. Not that I'm a TV buff , but when u have absolutely nothing to do and have no reasons for being unhappy, the TV is a great sink for venting out your stress.

You can increase the volume to the maximum,till you hear strange wheezing noises inside your head even when you are in some sound proof room. U can keep on surfing the channels - News,sports,cartoons, music channels(playing the chartbusters till you have learned them by heart), the boring Ekta Kapoor 'saans-bahu' soaps,the even boring reality shows which shouts out their fakery,but people still find them real(god knows why and how?),the CNBC share bazaar, the national geographic channels and then again back to News and the cycle continues till your fingers hurt from the constant pressing on the remote control buttons - small dents of your fingers on them. 

I can't even do that at home . I am so bored of leisure now. I like being on my feet all day long nowadays.

Whenever (which is rarely) I have some work outside, I leave as early as possible and take the longest routes to reach places and come back home as late as possible.

I know that I am not making much sense, but i cant help it right now.I am BORED.

Now here is the list of things I have been engaging myself into for the last few boring days :-

1. Reading "The fountainhead by Ayn Rand"
2. Orkut - check out the recent updates.No one scraps me and I dont find it necessary to scrap anybody back. Log out in less than 5 mints.
3. Facebook- Ignoring stupid invitaions for raising cattle in some virtual farm. Find out my Date of the day ... Last time I got Paresh Rawal ...Logged out.
4. Blogspot -  Check out for any latest comment on my blog. Get really pissed to find none.Log out.
5. Play Gold Miner.... for like 10 mints max.Lose concentration and lose the game. Exit
6. Try to write something for my blog. Lose interest .Quit without saving.
7. Make myself a cup of tea,drink it up in 5 mints. 
8. Search through my storage devices for some movies. Watch 1 if I find any... That helps me spend some 3 hours ,provided I don't get bored in between and stop it.
9. Feed my ever hungry cat. Now that takes me ages ... Have to coax her to finish her food. 
10. It's night already ... and with the book I dump myself into my bed and next day wake up to yet another boring beginning.

I really have nothing more to pen down . I am really bored and tired with my routine life and I want a change. I hope my readers have already understood by now , the frame of mind I am in .So bear with me please... Hope to come up with some nice blogs soon...

Till then - C ya !

The Song of the Sea

 1.

“The sea returns whatever it takes from you “– that’s what people say. And that’s what Aman believed in the last days of his life.

Aman – 28 years old, a scholar from IIT and an MBA from IIM- A, had everything in life. He was smart, educated, rich, had a great job at a foreign bank, and was the most eligible bachelor in town. But above all, he had Avantika – his childhood love. For him, she was the most beautiful girl on the face of the universe. They were family friends and their relation dated back to almost more than a decade. It was the kind of love story which is written in Heaven.

“Avantika – short, plump and innocence personified.” Aman thought.

He sunk his feet deep into the sand and felt them escape through his toes as the waves retreated.

This was the very place where he saw her last, heard her voice for the last time, felt her warmth and smelled her tears. This was the place where he had promised her that they would meet again – in some other world …

The thoughts came gushing along with the waves. Each wave brought a fresh memory along with it, her contagious smile, her kohl eyes, her frizzy hair, her tantrums, her agony, her death.

“Huh!” Aman let out a deep sigh.

“How could I ever forgive myself?” he questioned himself.

Everything was the same. The sea, the coconut tress, the hotels, the star studded skies, the smell of dried fish – Everything but Avantika!

One mistake of his and things changed like day changes to night.

2.

Aman was in USA for work. It was in the month of January, last year. He was almost freezing to death, with the mercury plumetting down to -13.

He picked up his cell phone and managed to dial a number with his numb fingers, which he felt had been cut off from his hands.

“Hey Aman!” answered a girl in an American accent.

Well, that was Christine, the only good friend cum guide, Aman made on his 3 months official tour.

“Hey yourself, Chrrr-istine” Aman stammered. “How do you guys survive here?” he asked.

“We drink silly, silly!” Christine jeered back.

“So, what are you waiting for? Come over to my apartment and don’t forget to bring the thing which keeps you guys warm” Aman stammered again.

That was it, a small private party, music, wine, popcorn, a movie and then - THE MISTAKE.

3.

Next morning, Aman woke up with a heavy head but was still feeling warm. It was a clear morning. Christine was gone, but had left a note.

“Sorry Aman, it should never have happened.” The note almost shouted out the truth.

The entire night replayed itself clearly in his mind and Aman’s lungs filled with guilt. All of a sudden, he couldn’t breathe.

“Oh! Avantika” he gasped.

He picked up the phone and dialed her number.

“Hello” Avantika answered in her sleep.

“I love you baby” Aman said almost choking and fighting his tears back.

“Baby, its 2.00 am in India”

“Oh! Right, I just wanted to tell you that I love you”

“I love you too honey. I need to sleep, have an early morning presentation”

Aman tried to hold back his tears with all his might. He knew that Avantika had this magical ability to read his mind, even if he sat on some other planet in some other galaxy.
And under no circumstance, could he succumb.

“Good night, honey, see you soon” Aman switched off his cell phone.

That day, he decided that he would never mention this to Avantika. She would be shattered, and the thought of losing her was already shattering him to pieces.

4.

“Ouch!” something pricked him.

A crab was biting his toe. May be even the crab was trying to bring him back to the present. Tears rolled down his cheeks.

“I have killer her” he shouted to the sea.

“I gave it to her, gave her the virus”

“Take me to her please”

He shouted at the top of his voice.
The sea seemed to respond back. The sizes of the waves doubled.

“Why did you take her away? She didn’t even know anything about it” Aman sobbed.

Aman clenched the sands in his fist with all his power. But, he was drained off all of it. The sand escaped from his hands, just like Avantika escaped from his life.

He was in the last stage fighting against the deadly virus. A year back he was detected HIV positive.

But he had already passed it to Avantika and pushed her towards death by then.

Aman plunged his hands inside his shirt, and slowly pulled it out - A picture frame.

Avantika was smiling through it as Aman was trying to make a funny face.

Her smile was infectious, he always thought. The smile which had swept him off his feet, which could make his heart stop beating, which became so difficult for her during her last days.

She loved the sea. She used to say that the sea had its special song for everyone and for every mood.

“Listen to the song of the sea” she would tell Aman during their happy days.

She wanted to die here – on this beach. That was her last wish

“Don’t let me die in a hospital room” she had pleaded to all.

“Please let me watch the waves, smell the salt, hear the song of the sea while I end my journey” she requested Aman, when he tried to protest.

And just before breathing out her last breath, she had shut all her pains in her eyes and just had one question written all over her face- distorted with lesions.

“Why Aman?”

He bowed his head and looked into the picture. A tear dropped on her smile.

“I hope you have forgiven me by now” Aman spoke through his tears.

“I’m coming to get you my baby” he said firmly.

He rested the photo frame, face down on his chest and lied down on the sand.

The waves washed over him……. The sea sang its last song.

I,ME,MYSELF

This is the story of three friends – ‘I’, ‘Me’ and ‘Myself’ - Three inseparable souls at childhood.  But then ‘I’ died of chronic depression and nothing was the same anymore.

Well, let's take you back to the time when 'I' was born. ‘I’ was this fair, cute bundle of joy born to a beautiful couple. ‘I’ was everything her parents wanted their child to be. She was smart, clever, cute, naughty, and adorable and every good thing you can think of. God seemed to have made her with great care.

Her parents gave her a great upbringing and were proud of the way she was shaping up as a human being. She had a heart of gold. She laughed with others in joy and cried with them in their grief. She loved to love and be loved back. She was a bundle of happiness and energy. Her mere presence lit up a party and was sheer bliss to all - family, friends and even strangers.

Her parents gave her all that they could afford - The best of education, the best food and the best dresses. She wore pink frocks with frills and laces and looked like an angel. A few American tourists begged her parents for a photo shoot with “I” on her first day out . They had never seen such an innocent beauty in their lives.

'I' met 'Me’ and ‘Myself’ when they barely started walking. They became very good friends as they grew older. ‘Me’ was smarter than 'I' in many aspects and 'I' kind of hero worshipped 'Me'. 'Myself' on the other hand was a bit shy. An introvert, she was scared of facing the world. She preferred ‘I’ to 'Me' for her innocence and simplicity.

In no time they grew up to become beautiful women.

‘I’ was the homely kind, who dreamt a lot with wide open eyes. She dreamt of a fun filled utopic world, one of those fairy tale existences where a prince charming would come and plant a true-love-kiss and sweep her off her feet to live happily ever after. She stayed away from discord of any kind.

'Me' teased her and called her Peter Pan.‘I’ was still this child at heart. She said that she hated growing up. 'Me' was smarter than that. She knew the rules of the world and abided by them. She wanted to reach the zenith of her dreams. She got a degree, fulfilled her own and her parent's dream and started working for a software firm.   She chased and got what everybody wanted - Fame and wealth.

 'Myself' was the slow and steady type. She took things gently at her stride. She cared more about what the rest of the world thought about her. She put more stress on other's opinions. She always wanted to live up to others’ expectations and hardly managed to succeed.

It was a rainy night when ‘I’, ‘Me’ and ‘Myself’ were having their tea. ‘I’ heard a puppy screaming on the streets. She rushed downstairs, almost killed herself, rescued the pup and brought it home. ‘I’s father was not an 'Awwwww, such a cute little dog' kind of person. No sooner had he set his eyes on it that hell broke loose. He ordered her to leave the pup at some local market, where it could fend for itself.

‘I’ didn't budge. She was perplexed. “Always show mercy on needy ones!”- her dad taught her when she was a little girl."Was that all for the heck of it?" she thought.

"Listen to your dad” 'Me' told her.

"You should always listen to your elders" joined 'Myself'

"Even if they are wrong?" asked 'I'.

"YES" chorused 'Me' and 'Myself'.

The young and unsure 'I' didn't have the audacity to fight against so many. She had to give in to her dad. And the puppy was gone.

It was too much of a shock for ‘I’. She loved her family and thought that parents were always right. But that day she woke up to another reality…The virtues she had learnt as a child could be a vice as an adult, she realized. It was a difficult transition.

 “Everyday life virtues needed to be practiced selectively,” 'Myself' explained to her.

“You need to understand that the biggest virtue required for surviving in this BIG BAD WORLD is to know when to use which virtue, or if to use them at all...”

All these were too much for 'I' to understand.

She pondered, brooded and mulled over it. She even tried to change and become like 'Me' 

or 'Myself'. But, she couldn’t.

Something had snapped within her and her health deteriorated overnight. She knew her end was near. During her last few days, she even refused to see her parents, she loved so much. She didn’t want to talk to 'Me' who had become too mercenary and practical.  ‘Me’ somehow did not understand her anymore.

On her deathbed she only asked to see ‘Myself ‘. She whispered her last wish in her ears…

“Remember me always, not the way you want to, but the way I want the world to remember me."

“Remember me in the rays of sun

  Remember me in bliss and fun

 Remember me in an innocent smile

Remember me where there’s no guile”

And 'I' died.

'Me' forgot 'I' in no time. But 'Myself' didn't, rather couldn't. The last words of 'I' had made a great impact on ‘Myself’s life. She always tried to keep the essence of 'I' alive within her.

If you are wondering, who ‘I’, 'Me' and ‘Myself’ were, well let me tell you they all are the same. They are all a part of me.

'I' was, as I was born - The one who suffered at every juncture of life, and experienced devastation at the hollowness of life. That part of me which got torn into pieces, which no matter how hard I tried,  “I” couldn’t get back together.

'Me'  was the more practical me, as I grew older. Warped by the rules of the society, chasing the unknown whether I liked it or not. It was that part of me that willingly joined the rat race - That part which had to undo a lot of childhood learning in order to survive - The smug, selfish, self-centered creature born out of societal pressure.

'Myself' - hmmm.... Well it was a struggling remnant of 'I' – A part of me that grew up to fulfill the expectations of people who mattered. That part that tries doing things ‘Me’s way, but can never forget the 'I'.  How can she ever forget ‘I’, the very reason of her existence? “I” will hopefully continue to live within her in the last vestiges of innocence and goodness buried deep in her in “I’s” fond memory.