Boy oh Boy!

So apparently my little bangla poem was a premonition. Or something like that. For the last few days, I’ve been having  to deal with men whipping out their phone cameras trying to take a picture of me, along with, of course, the good ol’ following. Yes, I’m used to it—happens almost everyday and it doesn’t matter who I’m with or how many men are surrounding me.

We went to Sula Vineyards in Nashik last weekend and boy, was I daydreaming! I just stared out into the greenery, the beauty of an intoxicated Mother Nature accentuated by the drizzling rain, making the green even more luscious. I was so caught up in my dream of ‘I want to live here, right here in this house’, that I was ignoring my company of friends too. I was so caught up that I didn’t notice a bald man and his cheap shit friends (his head was shining) staring at me and, no points for guessing, trying to take pictures. I didn’t notice, that is, until suddenly my boys had made a wall in front of me, between me and my scenic view. I was about to throw a fit when I finally realised what was going on. And my friends refused to go let me yell at the baldy myself. The boys of either groups were on the brink of a fight by the end of the evening, but it was all wrapped up with “We are sorry, we are sad”. Lame and pathetic, much like the perpetrators (dramatic, yes, do I need to reiterate that I indeed am dramatic?). 

Not even a day back in Bombay and the same shit happens at the railway station. I get off at my destination station and someone else starts following me. Of course, I yell at them all and off they go with their... tails between their legs—if you know what I mean.

So freakin’ tired of this. Have these men never seen women before in their lives? What do they intend to do with the pictures? Well, I have a few guesses. Yuck. And though the volume of this happening with my friends and I seems to have increased lately in Bombay, it happens everywhere, across the country and the world.

Of course, men continue to annoy me in various other ways. And after a perfect weekend like the one I had, I seem to be crankier and less tolerant. A world without men. Hmm.  I know every woman has, at some point or the other, considered this and sighed a blissful, wishful-thinking-sort-of sigh.

For all the creepy men out there—I’m gonna stop yelling and start using my hands, feet and knuckles. How does castration sound to you?

I believe I can flaaayyyyyy

Can anyone of you reading this post right now, admit to understanding yourself completely? Like know what exactly you are, how you are, how you will react in certain situations and what you want from life? I can tell you this much—sometimes, I definitely cannot understand myself. It’s like my mind is speaking Hebrew and my ears only understand English.

When I left home for Bombay, seven years ago, all I wanted was to get out of Calcutta and start afresh somewhere else. I made it happen. And once I moved, for a while at least, I was convinced that Bombay is where I would settle. Settle. Ick.

See now, most people who know me would think that I do want to ‘settle down’ – you know, stable job, family, home etc. – all in one place. At various points in time, I believe so too. That I’m the ‘settling down’ kinda gal.

And then suddenly, out of nowhere, or sometimes out of somewhere, an itch will begin. To get out, move out, move to someplace where no one knows me or the baggage I carry with me, and start afresh, unfettered. Payer tolaye shorshe, as my mom would say.

Almost every year, as if on an alarm, I start whining about Bombay and the urge to get out and move on starts butting its way into my consciousness. Which is weird, to say the least. I get so attached to people and places. Saying goodbye, though I have done it countless times, remains one of the most difficult things for me to do. Ever. And yet this feeling persists.

Of course, I did move once, but I genuinely believe that the place and circumstances were all wrong. Hence all I wanted to do then, was to move back to Bombay.

Lately, I was getting obsessed with buying a house in this city. Over this last weekend, and much thinking later, the obsession is dying down. Do I really want to be tied down to this city forever with a house and the ginormous loan that comes with it? Isn’t that why I didn’t want to go abroad to study? Because I didn’t want a lifelong debt hanging precariously, like a sword, over my head? Then why the need to buy a place in the most expensive city (at least in terms of real estate) in the world?

Anything that ties me down to something or someone has always scared me. I believe that you should be somewhere or with someone because you want to and not because you have to or because a piece of paper says so. Hence the big, fat M word always freaked me out. A girl dreams, so I did let go of my fears and dreamt for a while, of that ‘perfect settled’ life. But now—now the tickle beneath my feet is back; the itch to spread my wings and soar away has returned. Unfortunately, unlike others, my work doesn’t take me too many places; yet. But maybe someday, I’ll be able to fulfil that itch and I’ll be flapping my arms so hard and with such conviction, that I will fly away, far far away. 

Joy Bangla!

This is specially for all my bong friends out there. The inspiration came out of nowhere, but I tapped it. And out came this profound poem. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

Jodi aamaye dao gunto
Marbo aami tomaye junto
Dekhcho oi je gondho nala
Debo phele ote tomaye shala
Mathaye ekta chanti mere
Tomar haanshi nebo kere
Deene dekhiye debo tara
Jodi aar dekha dao re banra.

:D I think I dedicate this 'profound' poem to any man who dares to look at or touch a woman inappropriately.

I can almost hear the applause. Thank you thank you! I, proud to be Bong!

This is just a bonus :P

I want to do something with my life. Like really DO something. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love my job. When you find your passion, your calling after quite a few hiccups and bumps on the way, it is relieving to be home.

But lately I’ve noticed, that many people I know (many younger than me too, sniff) are doing stuff besides their jobs. Like something big that they can be proud of and can talk about and tell their grandkids. In this category, the ones who are my friends, I am uber proud of them. The ones who are not, I am actually a little jealous and depressed. The only thing I’ve done lately besides my job and social life, is join a yoga class. I was and still am super kicked about it, but meh.

I’ve ALWAYS wanted to write a book. Silly, isn’t it? All writers want to write books, duh! I mean, having a book you’ve written published, is the ultimate. When it’s more than one, even better! It’s like the adrenaline rush you feel when you see your byline or your name on a masthead for the first time, ever. Inexplicable joy. A book, yes.

I have NO clue what’s holding me back (please God, let it not be laziness). Well, partly, it’s the fact that I’m not sure what I want to write about. It will definitely be inspired by my life and the lives of those around me, but I need to bring it down to a definite theme, story, idea, brief, etc. Sigh. But I promise (I think), I will at least start making a list of possible story ideas. In the meantime, please do help! ANY suggestions will be welcomed with open arms. You all know how bad I am with decisions! *batting eyelashes*

Apart from this, I’ve also started getting obsessed about buying my own, nice house in Bombay. Sounds ridiculous doesn’t it, given the real estate rates in this town? But recently, I’ve been going to friends’ places and having a peep into their homes, and all I want to do is buy a house (read flat, obviously) and set it up with my marad. Yes, that's what I call him. Yes, all the friends we’ve been visiting are married and older, but still. Slight obsession happening. I need to get really rich, really quick. Maha sigh. 

Something something happening...

Over a 1000 views in less than three months – phew! I’m overwhelmed! I definitely did not expect so many people to read my blog, but now that I know, I shall forge ahead! Thanks guys <3

So I’ve been feeling some stuff lately (well, obviously right? Why else do bloggers write?) I’ve realised how, as you grow older, your life trims out many friends, so that by the time you’re an adult (or as old I as I feel) you have a handful you can count on your fingers and whom you can count on. I’ve lost quite a few friends on the way. Some were inevitable I guess, distance et al. Some were for the absolute wrong reason.

I watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai when I was just about stepping into my teens. Yes, I still love the movie and still cry when watching it. The eternal question of “Can a boy and girl ever be ‘just friends’?” was raised and practically the whole country (or at least my whole little world) was debating this fact. I vehemently argued that, yes, of course a boy and girl can be ‘just friends’! I’ve grown up with boys and there were no romantic liaisons with MANY of them. Just good ol' buddyship. 

Now here’s the sad bit. Some friends I made did turn into something more—in the sense, either they developed feelings for me or I may have developed a soft corner for them. But of course, not all feelings are reciprocated and can be taken forward (which is where the term unrequited love comes from, I guess). But does that mean you no longer care for the person at all, or vice versa? Can you cut the person out of your life just because she doesn’t feel the same way you do and your ego (even for men post the adult age of 27) has been bruised?

Unfortunately, the answer to that is yes. In the last few years, I’ve lost a few solid friends because of this. While with some, I knew their intention all along, and emotional feelings weren’t really a part of it, if you know what I mean, the loss of others were real blows. You finally feel like you’ve found someone who gets you, perhaps even more than your significant other does, and he has no ulterior motive, and then bam! It all changes once the truth is out. Which is why, today, the guy friends I can count on and be 100 per cent comfortable with, no matter what, are the friends I made when I was a child—in school and college (trust me, most of the growing up happens in your college days). Those who fall in the abandoning category (yes, I know it’s a tad dramatic, but I’m sticking with it), if they’re reading this, know who they are. And the ones who are my fwendssss for life, also know exactly who they are.

And at the end of ALL of this, your girls will stand by you, no matter what. The ironic thing is that when I was growing up, women didn’t really like me. I barely had any female friends and sometimes, that was embarrassing. But today, all that has changed. I wouldn't last a day without my girls. <3 (flying ones ;) )

Spilling my guts

Why is it that the people who are the closest to you, can hurt you the most? Why is it that sometimes, no matter how much you do, it’s never enough? How is it that six members of one family can be so diabolically different from each other, that often it’s like they’re speaking different languages? Why is it easiest to hurt and be cruel to the ones we apparently love the most?

Many people tell me that they like my blog because it’s honest and simple. Others have told me that they are surprised I can bare it all on such a public forum. Still others have accused me of using this blog for personal gain. Well, to the people who enjoy reading my posts, thank you. And I will continue to be honest and spill my heart’s contents out. That was the intention of the blog, to begin with. And those who believe that I’m using this blog for personal gains, well, either you can stop reading, or keep reading knowing that that is probably true. It’s my blog and I’ll do whatever the hell I want with it.

People say, and I harp on this most often, that the secret to the success of any relationship, be it with your partner, parents, friends or siblings, is communication. If you’re upset, talk about it. Discuss the issue as soon as possible and move past it. Dwelling on it simply hurts more and increases the distance between the two people.

And yet, as I grow older, I find that I am no longer able to do this. Partly, I think, because talking or telling the person when and why I am upset, has yielded no result whatsoever, and partly because it becomes an effort to deal with these situations. When you have to travel a good deal to work all day and shoulder all sorts of external stress, is personal duress really welcome? Not at all. So what do I do? I avoid. And so does the other person, because clearly I’m not the only one opting for this easy way out. Does it help? No. Do I feel better? Obviously not. Does it make a difference? I doubt.  

Sometimes, the people you want to look up to, or those you looked up to as a child, have the strongest ability to crush your spirit, like a parent or a guardian or even a teacher. Sometimes, the support you were looking for all your life in one person or certain people, that you believe you have found, turns around and slaps you in the face, hard, reminding you that you are but alone. (Woe)man up!

I had a dream about my grandfather yet again last night. Don’t think that I never got mad at or annoyed with him. We fought plenty. But the truth is that he was and continues to be the only man ever in my life that I could lean on 100 per cent. That is, till he fell and I fell with him. It’s been almost nine years and I’m still trying to get up and find my bearings again. I think whenever I get lonely, sad or angry, he pays me a visit, to remind me that he still is there, somewhere, somehow.

I’ve gotten very good at taking care of myself. What choice do I have? It’s easy to pay up, day after day, year after year, in ‘support’ of someone you apparently love. But being by his or her side, and providing the kind of support that they actually are looking for apparently is near impossible. Or perhaps I expect too much. Or maybe I’m unreasonable in my demands. The man spoiled me, what can I say?

Advice: If you love someone, talk to him or her. If you’re angry, yell at him or her. If you want to be cruel to someone you love, hold back. Cruelty may make you feel better momentarily, but it will drive a wedge between you two forever.