Random Thoughts

Why are things not permanent..well at least some things..The present set of people you know..give 5 years time..only a handful of them will be with you sharing the same laugh..the same drinks..the same conversations that you share today...sometimes even when everyone is around you...in reality no one is around..no one whom you can call your own..someone to share out those inner most feelings that you had kept safely hidden from all eyes to pry upon..

For a guy like me,people see the laugh..the smiles..the parties..the adventure..but no one see's the tears..the hollowness..behind that same face. When we were children..the world was so colorful..everything was one more..one more chocolate..one more game..one more toy..one more movie..things were either meant to be or not..complications were little..girls and boys were friends (not the one with benefits but the one you can count upon).

School ended and the vices of this world creeps in..more freedom..more fun but in a way you never imagined before..Girlfriends..parties..and what not..drinks took the place of soft drinks..cigarette took the place of candies..sex took the place of hugs..and as they say life got fucked up..

Sometimes in life in midst of all the crazy shit..one day you sit back and contemplate..things you could have changed..words you could have taken aback..studied a bit more..made life a bit worthwhile..but then you realize you have no one by your side..

maybe its the drink that make me write shits like this..but one thing terrifies me all through the night when i see a frail old man lying all alone on a bed..with no one by his side to mourn his death..and it makes me think..is that the way i want to leave...!!

One Rainy Afternoon

Monsoon in Calcutta is not a very formidable climate; people have their own ways of liking and disliking it in the city of joy. The young schoolboy was happy for missing his school and sat all day in the hope of playing indoor games. The workman was not happy because he would be even more late today, his boss would scowl at him; work was heaping on him; the muddy waterlogged streets would make it difficult to cross without getting dirty. The lovers were depressed because their plans of visiting the local park where lovebirds usually flock, was ruined by the ceaseless rain. The lonely lover was quite dreamy comparing her love's beauty with the rain ,sitting by the window thinking about telling about how much she feels about him. The mongrels in the market were cursing the rain of spoiling the day's business. The wife was smiling while cooking the lunch thinking that her husband shall make love to her tonight. Everything was in its own way but the rain poured down on the streets, the lush green fields, the small lakes causing ripples.

Deb was strolling carelessly along Esplanade with his dirty white umbrella pushing among the tide of people in the narrow lane outside the metro station, the lane was full of vendors on both sides, selling various merchandises like T-shirts, watches, books and all sorts of cheap wares. He was not interested in any of them because he had visited the place a numerous number of times. He did not have much money, he was here for his tuition class which was near Rabindra Sadan station only 3 more stations later. He had skipped his tuition class, which he was bored of attending the weekends in the afternoons and going back home at 9 pm. He did not quite like the way his life was, he was a student of 12th standard and his parents were busy trying to make him understand the importance of getting admitted in an engineering college due to which he was admitted in this coaching which took a handsome amount of money and promised his chances of getting admitted in the IITs.

He has lately got his first girlfriend only a year ago who was also his classmate and was now rather enjoying a nice nap back home. He took out his cellphone from the pocket while balancing the umbrella between his head and shoulder. He was disappointed to see no calls or sms. He once thought of calling her but then put it back, he kept on walking looking at the shops at the people. Along the road the cars speed-ed their way through and the sky above was hopelessly gray as his mind. He had no plans of returning back home so he continued his journey on foot, pushing the crowd, sometimes getting partially drenched. He had no idea where to go, he did not have enough money and also had to spend 7 hours alone. However he was smiling thinking about the cuteness of her face when she is asleep. This feeling was enough for him to keep loitering about any street of the world even among the restless rain. For this was the feeling of first love for a young schoolboy.

It was weekend and it was afternoon for Avantika, she was studying in a Bengali medium school in std 11.She lived in another part of the city. She was a lively girl and after her lunch was over she was sitting at the window listening to the tender sound of the rain droplets falling on the pond in front of her house. She was humming a Kishore Kumar song, it was her favorite season. She was born in this season. She was thinking of her boyfriend whom she loved ,though the various incident that urged a quarrel between the families because it was their age to study not to love. In typical middle class Bengali families it happens sometimes. But the charming part of it was the secret meetings and talking on the phone secretly even amongst the tightest surveillance of the parents. She knew whatever happens nothing can break her determination of her love for him. These things didn't matter to her, she was waiting for him to call her as soon after her parents would be asleep. This wait was more romantic than anything in the mind of a schoolgirl.

Then the city was different for them and they did not know each other and did not have the slightest hint of ever meeting. But as even the season changes so does the people. The monsoon went away from the life of both these people. But once again this year the skies are more darker than before, it seems the raining is going to be more stronger this year. Love like clouds seem to have captured the lives of all the passerby in Esplanade, this part of Calcutta seemed to be poured down more. No one knew why except the couple strolling down with the dirty white umbrella held high and pushing through the crowds of  people. Both were dreamy maybe thinking of themselves or maybe of the monsoon a couple of years ago when they were strangers.

Dev whispered in Avantika's ears "I love the rain it makes you look more beautiful."

She spoke slowly looking into his eyes "I love you too."

And somewhere among the crowds they disappeared but the grey sky did not disappear. It was raining now as it had rained for years, for centuries making people remember of afternoons they are not supposed to remember now.

Its a Wonderful Life

These days the rain god is playing such a cruel game of waiting with us mortals here in Pune. First he sends in those big black dark clouds which makes you excited about the possibility of getting drenched. But then clouds just stay there without doing anything. Makes you feel like a lover who had been made to fill with the excitement of spending the night with his girlfriend only to realize all medical shops are closed that day.

Talking about lovers suddenly brings a laugh on my face. I had the fortune of meeting with many people, girls and guys, single and couples and each one of them had their own set of plights. This always makes me realize girls and guys are so different when it comes to handling each other.
Situation 1: A girl asks a guy how I am looking in a new dress. Am I looking perfect? The guy without thinking blurts out yes baby you look so perfect in this dress. Fits you like a dream. The girl asks am I looking fat. The guy says not at all love. The girl says but I think am looking fat. The guy still in the no brainier mode says yeah I guess you are looking a little fat. The girl replies you are so insensitive.

Here what the girl needs to understand is we guys follow a straight curve. When we mean you are looking good you are. It’s that simple. The moment you throw in an extra variable, an extra question mark we tend to get confuse. Then we tell you the same thing you want us to say to you.
The guys need to understand that in no circumstance should you ever say your girl is looking fat even if she is on the verge of busting out of the tiny dress she is wearing. Saves a lot of troubles..:D You must understand a girl will pressurize you to speak out the very thing she doesn't want to hear in the first place. You must not succumb under pressure.

Situation 2: A girl asks a guy after an intense round of love making what am I to you. The guy replies you mean everything to me. The girl replies can you see a future with me. The guy replies lets enjoy the present. The girl's mood goes from oh babe to shoo off faster than split of a second.
After an intense round of love making, girls should understand the guy is all tired and wants his chance at taking breath. At most he can handle normal conversation about the lovemaking instead of the heavy discussion of future, relationship and all.
The guy should understand girls love to talk after love making. It’s in their genes, you can't take that away. And they try to bring up those heavy discussion about future and relationship right after the lovemaking because they feel we are the most vulnerable at that time. Try to spend at least 10 mins in talking even if don't feel like.

Situation 3: The girl asks a guy after 3-4 months of staying together when are we getting married. The guys goes blank. The girl goes into sulk mode.
Girls should understand every guy goes numb upon hearing the word marriage. It’s not like we are insensitive or we don't want to be with you. But then somehow the word marriage makes our world go topsy turvy. It’s like our whole notion about freedom comes crashing down. You should proceed with let’s take our relationship to next level of love. Let’s get engaged or something instead of straightaway come to the word marriage.

Guys should understand girls want commitment after being with you even for a week. It’s in their nature, you can't help it. They feel like having a sense of security with you which they give the name of commitment. You may try to run hard away from it but eventually you will have to give in to the word commitment. And about marriage, you can stall it but can't avoid it. Eventually you are going to die..:P

Situation 4: The girl says to a guy, I feel like meeting you tonight, we will just talk and spend some time. The guy gives some excuse of being late in office. Next time the girl says i feel like making love to you tonight. The guy makes it even if it was raining hell or cats and dogs. The girl goes bonkers.

Guys should realize there are times when a girl feels like just talking to you or say maybe watching a movie together cuddling up. Not every time it’s going to be bang bang kiss me mam. Even though we guys are born with high levels of testosterone all the time, but sometimes we need to cool off.
Girl should realize guys are just not made for talking. Yeah they will do the small talks and all but ultimately their hormones kicks in. It’s the way they are made..:P

There are many more instance I could give about how different girls and guys are from each other. But then the above situations are very frequent.
Girls feel guys are very insensitive. Guys feel girls are very nagging. Girls feel guys are selfish. Guys feel girls are dominant. All these things together makes a girl and a guy unique. If this was not so guys would had been dating guys and girl would have better dated girls.
So all the guys and girls who don't like each others habits, fighting about rights,expectations..give it a break and learn to accept each other as the way they are. After all am sure that there are more things to love about each other than to fight for..:D

So keep on loving god’s most amazing creations. Guys and Girls..!!

The child inside me..

Age is catching up on me..yet the confusions of life is ever increasing. Sometimes i feel like picking the bag and leaving these known shores..known faces..and go into the unknown shores..meet some unknown faces..be somewhere where i am not known..

When i was a child..i wanted to grow up..wanted to be like the adults around me..all responsible..enjoying their freedom..doing what they felt like..while i was being held back by my parents authority. But now after crossing the threshold of so called adulthood, i feel even more shackled..more held back..by some invisible bonds. Though am free from the authority of my parents..i feel those days were the best. Being an adult has only increased my confusions four fold..at least being a child i was less confused about things..about people..about the relation i had maintained with those people.

When i see small child's pressing their faces on the windows of the cars which i pass by, i feel what stops me from doing so..is it because adults are expected to behave mature..to behave in a sensible way. But then what is the use of being such adults if you can't do what you feel like doing. In this case the children out there are far more lucky than us..everything for them is a new thing, a new world without thinking about how other people would perceive their doings.

People say there is a child inside every one of us..which wants to come out. We all have those phases when we feel we are bored of being adults. But with me..i feel the child inside me never left me..i hate to pretend to behave like an adult..all responsible and mature..planning things in advance about future. When i start thinking about the expectation of people around me after getting married..being the husband material or the father material..i shudder. I grew up thinking being adults would be all cool and fun..being free..living life on your own terms..but here everything is just the opposite.

People say to me..neither you look or act your age..you are not responsible..don't know how to prioritize things..don't know how to plan for your future..don't know how to save up..act childish..Thing is i have never know what growing up meant..i am the way i was through my school..through my college..

If only i could rewind my life back..but there is no pause or rewind button in life..it only moves forward..

Wish I was back

It was a little after 5:30 in the evening in Calcutta. My mom was out shopping for overpriced silver at New Market. Grandma's trying to put my niece Meera to sleep. Little Meera's trying to do everything possible to fight it.
And I'm thinking.

I'm thinking of the years I grew up here.
In this house.
In this para.
In this city.

I remember for instance going to salt lake and back, all in 22 bucks. Add another ten bucks for the cheap Charms I used to smoke. And another 15 bucks for the bloody [red] noodles I used to eat at gariahat.
Those days all the attractions that came with it were fully paid for under a hundred bucks a day.

At the most.

Love, for me was a matter of habit back in those days. I dated indiscriminately, and I fell in and out of it shamelessly. Pleasures were simple. A movie at Maidan maybe. Perhaps lunch somewhere economical and lonesome afterwards. And if my parents weren't home, maybe even a little hookie.

Good times.

I remember with a smile, the boat rides by the Ganga, and shooting balloons with an air rifle. I always managed to hit the coin. Haven't done either for ages now.

A couple of months back, I was on my roof with a mug of beer in my hand, enjoying the lovely winter sun. Occasionally, I smoke when I drink. And that day was one such occasion.

I was drinking and smoking and looking at my house.
Well, okay Grandpa built it in 1955. But if all legal deeds and taxes are to be worked out, it's safe to say that a small portion of this house is mine.

It felt nice to be on the roof of a house I own.
Never felt it before, surprisingly when I was living in it.
And perhaps, if I didn't have to fork out an amusing sum of money as rent every month for a house I didn't own, I wouldn't feel it even now.

For a minute there amidst all this over emotional thinking, I wanted to come back.
Bag, baggage, job.

But then that moment passed, and the probing mole inside me took over. And it asked me, in a tobacco drenched throaty grunt of a voice,

"If you loved this goddamn city so bloody much, why the fuck did you leave?"

And then, it all came back.
Like an avalanche of vomit, the reasons hit me one by one.

I left because of the lazy people here.
I left because of the quicksand of politics here. A quicksand of people trying to pull you down.
I left because people here are actually happy with an increment of 500 bucks a year.
I left because I don't like mediocrity. And mediocrity is unfortunately, all I see around me here. Till now.
I left because I wanted more.
More than this city could ever hope to give me.

I live in Pune now.
People say I've become a Pune-Boy. I hate it when they call me that.
But sometimes I can't help but wonder if perhaps they're right.

I'm far more confident now.
Sometimes a little too much.
I have a okay job.
I earn okay, I guess.
I get taken to expensive clubs and restaurants by my cousin and friends.


Slowly, I've joined this club thousands have been and will always be a part of.
A club that is torn between two cities.
A city that gave them seven buck egg rolls, cricket matches at the Maidan, peanuts by the lake and culture by the road.
And a city that gave them the cars, the houses, the bank accounts, the job satisfaction and the cosmopolitan life all of aspire to have.

All of us in the club frequently tell ourselves we'll come back.
Next year when we get married.
Calcutta is good for married life.
It doesn't happen.

So year after next.
When we have a kid.
Calcutta has the best schools.

Doesn't happen.

And so it goes, the promises to return and the excuses not to.
So here we are, coming for a Durga Pujo, coming for Christmas, coming for bhai phonta.

Coming to relive those old streets where we grew up.
Coming to have ten phuchkas for twelve bucks.
Coming to spend some time with family, relatives and family.
Coming to have a beer and a smoke on the roof our house.

Soon, we'll go back to our Bombay's and Delhi's and Pune’s and Americas.
And while driving our air conditioned luxury car to work, we'll tell ourselves in a whisper,

"Next year, we'll go back to Calcutta for good."

Last walk of Life.

A cell. Walls in a shade of grey. Some parts of the paint peeling off. A tattered rag. Kept in one corner. Dusty in a yellowish shade. A man. 6 feet 1 inches. 210 pounds. 35 Years. Straight hair. A mixture of grey and light shade of brown. Beard. 2 days. Unkempt. A half t-shirt. White and black stripes. White trouser. One size bigger. A number. On his forearm. 555. His name. Doesn't matter. His identity. The number on his forearm.

A guard. Tall. Muscular. Stands with rapt attention. Outside the cell. The man calls out. Asks for the time. 3pm the guard says. Goes back to the rag. Sits down. Legs crossed. Stops. Lies down. Arms behind his head. Stares at the ceiling. Memories. Seeping into his mind. Memories that took shape and remained with him. Memories that couldn't be wiped out by the grey walls.

A laughter. A tad higher on the shriller side. A girl. 19 years. Black hair. Long. Shoulder length. Pink Skin. Oval eyes. Pink lips. Sweating. A water droplet. Inches slowly. Over the curved navel. He couldn't get enough. Turns her over. Starts again. Her ears. His tongue. He nibbles slowly over them. Faint whispers. Heavy breathing. I love you. She tries to tell. The words come out in spaces. Moans. Long night. First time. He makes love.

Changes.Another laughter. another day. Another girl. 24 years. Perfect hourglass figure.Hair. Jet black. Almost like a flowing river. Whitish skin. Round eyes. Lips to bring life into. White gown. Smiling. Its his wedding. Happy. Dreamy. Long drives. Small arguments. Open roads. Open souls. Intense love. Passionate sex. Motherly care. A distant memory. Another lifetime.

Then a boy comes onto the picture. 2 years old. Droopy eyes. Chubby nose.Little fingers entwined into his own. Support.Laughing as he flaps his wings. Like a gust of wind on a rainy day. Runs around. A tear. Drops slowly. Eyes still closed. More memories seep in.

A dark picture. Somewhat hazy. Sound of cries. Death. 3 children. Blood covered. Red everywhere. Black. Automatic. i10. The windshield broken. A star radiates out from one side of the screen. Mind still distorted. Beer and vodka. Playing tricks. Intoxication. Roads blur. 10 years ago. A lifetime.

A knock. More like the bells of judgement. Opens eyes. Slowly. Comes out of memory trance. Looks. Guard knocking on the bars. Gets up. Mechanically. Stares. Guard nods. Time. Waits for none. 10 years. Each day a reluctant walk. Thinks he could turn back time. The faces stares out from behind. The smiling girl. The small kid. Eyes. Questions which he had no answers.

The final walk. Remembers. Robert Frost. Miles to go. Before I sleep. No more miles left for him. Smiles.

Silence is Over Rated

You really kissed her?"

Gorky was staring at me.

"Yeah. I did"

I was in my room. Gorky had come over to take some songs for a presentation that he had to make.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS ? "



I looked at his face. There was shock and glee all over it. Reminded me of Marie biscuit with jam. Why? I don't know. I sat there for a minute. Staring at his face. I thought about what he was thinking. I couldn't fathom it,really. Gorky had one of those faces which was unreadable.

"I am."



Gorky started laughing. He grabbed a pillow from my bed and threw it at me. I caught it. I looked away to my computer screen, trying to avoid his silly theatrics. He jumped up and down on the bed like a girl.

I wanted to smile.

My computer. Music (E:) Led Zepplin ( Select) The Doors (Select) Copy. My computer.

Gorky(H:) - Removable disk Songs. Paste.

"What else do you need?"

Gorky came over, sat beside me, and looked at my selection. I could smell expensive DKNY on him. He quickly took the mouse - Linkin Park ( Select) Copy.Paste.

"Done"! He smiled. His vampire teeth showing out.

He sat back, and looked at me. " Tell me. The full story."



We were walking back together. It was late evening. She was texting while walking. I had to remind her that its difficult to continue conversations with her if her attention is always on the phone.She kept back the phone in her pocket. She used to smile whenever I used to quip about her little quirks. She threw her head back, and brushed a long strand of hair from over her eyes. Defty taking out a clip from inside her purple handbag, she whipped up her hair in a neat ponytail in a matter of seconds. Inside her room, while watching an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S - I kissed her.

It wasn't really well thought out. It was very impulsive. Very rash. She leaned across me to reach a cup of coffee on the table beside me. Her face passed by an inch of mine, and I didn't lose a second in touching her lips with mine. For a second, I thought she'd pull back. But she didn't.

We kissed for almost 20 seconds.

Then,slowly, we broke apart. A few strands of her hair had gone into my mouth. I took them out gingerly. She sat back on the bed, looking at me strangely. She then calmly took a sip from the cup. I looked away immediately, embarrassed.

"So. You like me..?"

She asked this question after 10 mins. Or maybe, it was almost immediately. Time has a way of f#$king itself up when you want to keep count.

I turned to look at her. " Yeah. I do."

It took me a long time to say this. But I guess, I had to. Sometime or the other, I would have to. She became thoughtful after that. She was probably thinking of what to say next. I was still thinking about the kiss.

We didn't talk for the next hour. I played temple run on her iPod. She went online.

At 7:30, I got up to leave. " Leaving..?", "Yeah. Have to be home by 8.", " So I'll see you tomorrow..?"

Tomorrow.?

I don't remember whether I said that aloud or not.

"Yeah. I'll meet you at the City Center, we'll go from there at 10."

I smiled and left.



Later that night I got a text from her. 'Whatever happened today -  I hope you'll keep this just between us. I don't want anyone knowing. I hope you understand. I mean it more for you, than for me.'

I stared at the text for a very long time. I didn't have dinner that night.

Gorky was silent. Silence is overrated.

"So. You did kiss her?" " I did."

There was pause.

"WOW"

He was listening intently all this while. His phone had vibrated twice in the middle of the story, and he didn't even look at it. A rarity.

Safely removed Disk. I handed him his external hard drive. He stood up. Near the doorway he turned.



"I won't tell anyone about this."

I smiled. "I know you won't Gorky. I trust you."

There was a hint of pity in his eyes, as he turned and left.



There was an eerie silence in the room as he left. And I thought again. Silence is definitely over-rated. I went to the mirror. I wiped the mirror with a piece of cloth. I had used the same cloth to wipe the kajal off my eyes...!!!

Manipal Diaries

It started with a knock. Not the typical less noisy ones but the hard loud ones.



It was before the start of my second sessional exams in college that I had my first supernatural encounter. I used to live in 11th block hostel of MIT Manipal. In front of our block was a couple of row houses. The kind you get to see in some Hindi horror movie. Old and rusty but charming in their own way.



It was somewhere in September end of 2006 when the first series of knocks started on the main door of this particular row house. It used to be like knocking in middle of the night or sometimes in the interval of 1 hour. Initially the boys who stayed there used to think it as a prank being played by some other boys (as generally is the case in boys hostel).



After a week of the initial series of knocks, the frequency increased. Generally it used to happen from 11pm – 4am in the morning. Knock knock knock. And no one would be there outside.



Once I went to do group study with this friend of mine who lived there. It was just the two of us that time in the row house. Around 11pm we heard the first knock. I went to see who was it at this time of the night. Opening the door found no one around. Came back and had just settled down to study when the next knock happened immediately. This time my friend went cursing out all loud swearing to beat the shit out of the guy playing the prank. Me and my friend didn’t believe in supernatural stuffs and being science student always thought about a rational reason to all things unknown.



So my friend went to check the door but found no one in the vicinity. Cursing out loud he came back to the bedroom and closed the bedroom door without locking it.



The next time the knock happened, both of us were white faced rooted to the respective beds. It happened on the bedroom door and no one was in the house except the both of us.



The day after the above incident, 10 guys decided to catch hold of the person doing this. Me and my friend by now were convinced it was something supernatural after witnessing last night’s happening. But then the other guys were still firm on passing this as a prank.



So on 10th September, 2006 the 12 of us stayed up all night to finally catch the source or person of these knocks. We all sat in the bedroom from where we could see the front door area through the windows. Lights were switched off and curtains were drawn leaving a small gap in between for viewing. Inside 10 guys were ready with their share of hockey sticks and wickets to pounce on the trouble maker.



We sat from 11pm-4am, but no knock happened that night. Tired we all were just about to go for bed, when the knock happened around 4:30am. In an instant all 12 of us were at the window and what we saw will forever make me a believer of the supernatural and also the rest 11 of my friends.



With our jaws dropped and eyes wide, we heard the knocks on the front door but couldn’t see a soul in sight…!!

Kolkata

I was always drawn to the City of Joy. Although i was not born or brought up in Bengal, but then the city has always attracted me. I don't know maybe it’s the bong connection or just plain romance, but Calcutta has always been my home away from home. 

Yes, I still prefer Calcutta over Kolkata. The name has its own sophisticated charm. The city is like a 50 years old wine, although older but mellower in its charm. It’s not paced like Bombay or not even historical like Delhi but has its own unique charm which draws you in.


I miss the anticipation of the trains reaching Howrah Station. I remember how I would try to squeeze my small head between the window frames of the train to see the approaching station. How suddenly my face would be wearing this huge smile as the final halt of the train would give me the sense of being at my home. The jostling of the crowd to get down the train and traverse the entire length of the platforms to be in front of the queue for Pre-paid taxis. Standing in those long queue watching the majestic Howrah Bridge would always light up my world.


Crossing underneath the majestic Howrah Bridge with the Hoogly river on both side would always keep me awestruck. Some of the taxi driver would pay a silent prayer to Goddess Kali facing towards Dakhineswar as they made their way over the bridge.



As i would enter the city, Barra Bazaar with its old tall frail buildings with overhead web of cables would catch my sight. I always dreaded going into the bazaar since I would fail to find my way back to the main road, getting lost in those labyrinth of lanes and by-lanes inside the bazaar.
The grand St. Cathedral church would always make my eyes go all round and big. I always wanted to go inside this church since it looked so beautiful from outside, but sadly haven't done so.
I miss the lawns of Victoria Memorial, watching the setting sun cross over the topmost mast of the bow carrying angel. The carriage ride in front of the road crossing Victoria. Shouting out in delight when the jockey would make the horses gallop forward with more speed.


I miss Esplanade specially Fairlawn hotel. One of the best places to have chilled beer in the company of friends and strangers alike. The long lines of shop selling branded clothes along with the hawkers selling everything and anything under the sun. I miss having the candies,popcons,Jhalmuri from the roadside hawkers of that area.


Crossing over Park Street always makes me nostalgic. This one street has given me more memories than I can count for. Those chello kababs of Peter Cat, the live piano of Moulin Rouge, the continental yummy food of Mocambo, the breakfast at Flurry's..my tongue and stomach always loved to indulge themselves while on Park Street.


How can I forget Oly Pub..one of the oldest and the best pub in Calcutta. I have lost count of the number of memories I have attached with this Pub. The ambience of this pub makes you fall in love with it over and over again. From romance to hardcore political discussion, from new lovers to extra marital affairs. You get to see and hear things from all walks of life in this pub with your favorite drink.


I love dancing and Tantra and Roxy had been my best companions in matters of dance. These two night clubs in The Park hotel are two of the best clubs the city has to offer. Those alcohol induced, electro music infused clubbing nights can never be forgotten. And for the people who loves live music, SomePlace Else is the perfect place to drop by. I have lost count of the number of songs i had sang along in this place.


Also the lobby of The Park Hotel has many memories. I can never get tired of sitting in those huge Oval shaped couches and clicking selfies..The overhead cylindrical lights keeps you enchanted.
I love South Calcutta more since my grandparents stay there. Places like Southern Avenue, Gariahat,Kasba,Ruby,South City,Tolly Metro,Kalighat bring on nostalgia. So many romances, so many addas, so many shopping, so many meeting, so many cups of tea, so many hukah sessions and the list could go on and on.


Being in Calcutta, you would always get a feeling like you belong to the place even if you are a non-Bengali. The people here are extra sweet and extra receptive in order to please you.
As I have resided in places away from Bengal, I was always thirsty to get a drop of Bengali into my ears. The language is one of the sweetest in India. So being in Calcutta would give me a chance to take a whole dip into the language.


From driving on E.M Bypass at 120kmph at night, eating at Balwant singh's dhabba, getting lost in the same looking roads of Salt Lake, having intense discussions at Nandan, Lying down on the fields of JU, being peevish at Rabindra Sarobar, bringing up bhokti and saadhna at Kalighat, buying rare books in College street, hogging on Chinese food in China town, street shopping in Gariahat, metro rides, tram rides, China whites and cafe bindaas, enjoying the sunset sitting at Maidan, checking out girls at South city mall, unlimited taxi rides , gorging on roshogulla and sandesh, the tasty lip smacking out of the world Phuchka(panipuri) of vivekanondo park...the list is countless..
Moving away from the city has only made me want to go back to it even more.


You can take a Bengali out of Kolkata..But you can't take Kolkata out of a Bengali...!!

Memories of Midnight

"Can I have your number..?” she said. He seemed to hesitate before replying "9609721224". She saved the number in her phone as the bus moved forward. She remained standing by the entrance until his figure was lost in the sea of vehicles.

She went back to her seat. But a part of her was still living in the dreamland of last night’s happenings. She pulled out her phone from her shirt's pocket. She scrolled past the million contacts in the address book till she finally came to his name. His name, she didn't even knew. They had exchanged no names last night. She had named him Stranger in her contact list. She dialed the number."This number doesn't exists" - the dialer blared back at her stunned face. Suddenly she could hear his child like dreamy voice saying " It would be better if we didn't knew about each other and all this would be one big sweet memory which we would recall in our future and be happy.." At that time she didn't realize he had actually meant those words.

Last night..she sighed thinking.

She hated bus journeys. But last minute plans to get back to her ailing father had left her no choice but to do the thing she hated the most. All trains were booked and flight tickets were way out of her meager pocket money. Reluctantly she had booked a seat on this A.C sleeper bus from Bangalore to Mumbai via Pune. She had taken a upper sleeper seat which gave her a sense of privacy and also kept her away from those prying eyes. She was a beauty in herself. With a pink complexion, perfect eyes, perfect nose, carved out sensual lips and a long ravenous black hair she was amazingly pretty. Boys drooled over her back in her college. Girls envied her.

As the bus started from Majestic bus depot, she made herself comfortable on the upper berth and took out her laptop to watch a movie. Her phone constantly vibrated from the numerous WhatsApp texts. She looked sideways and saw the berth in front of her was all curtained up. Might be some couple getting cozy, she thought. It was not uncommon of couples to take sleeper berths in bus since it gave them the freedom of some free love making in public place with people snoring beneath them.

After an hour, the bus stopped for dinner at some dhaba on the highway. She got down not because she was hungry, but because of her urge to smoke. After she had her smoke, she bought a can of Pepsi and went back to her berth.

The can of Pepsi..that started it all..

Five minutes and still she was fidgeting with that can of Pepsi. She cursed herself for getting rid of her long nails the previous night. She thought of asking someone to help and looked around.The curtain of the front berth was parted now. She could make out a guy's head watching something his tablet. She called out to him "Excuse Me". The guy didn't respond. Again she called out "Excuse Me" but with a higher pitch. This time the guy turned his head in her direction and removed his earphones. As his face came into the dimly lit light of the bus, she couldn't hide her expression. He was cute. Like those guys who seems like dipped into a tub of chocolate and taken out. His hair had just out of the bed look which made him cuter. He had a pointed nose with perfectly craved out lips. There was a hint of stubble along with a goatee.

"I am not able to open this can, can you help me..??” She said offering him the can of Pepsi. Without replying he took the can, opened it and gave it back to her. “Where are you going..?” she asked him. "Pune" he replied. "Hi am Anya and you are...? " . He said something but then the bus had begun to move. She couldn't hear him. “Will you come over my berth..i can't hear you.." he replied a little loudly. She was hesitant. He was a stranger yet something about him made her comfortable. She thought and then against her better judgment crossed over to his berth. Underneath the people below were busy thinking about the antiques of this girl at middle of the night.Now both were seated on the opposite end of the berth. Finally they got to talking.

He was a Software professional working in Pune. She thought he looked more of a college goer. She found him to be a bit shy from the way he avoided gazing directly at her face. This also made him a bit more mysterious to her. Slowly they started easing up on the convos. They talked about everything and anything under the sun ranging from his frustrated life in IT Company to her latest break up.

Suddenly he said “My head is all aching from being in this awkward tilted position". The roof of the bus was a bit low for his long frame due to which he had to keep his head tilted. She said “Why don't you come and lie down beside me, would be easier for you to fit your long legs" .He seemed a bit hesitant but then came over to her side and lay down beside her.They went on talking.

After sometime, the lights of the bus went off.After few moments, the inevitable happened. He couldn't see her face in the dark, just could make out her voice. As he turned his face towards her, his lips landed on hers.Everything from that point was just a dream for her. She recalled how surprised she was when suddenly she found his lips on her. But something made her respond to it. He kissed her with a passion she hadn't experienced before. Maybe it was her break up or her lone time without a man.He got on top of her and began to nibble her ears. She felt her own hormones on the rise as waves of pleasure engulfed her whole body. His long fingers moved everywhere pinching and pushing her pressure points on the way. She was waiting for him to open her clothes but he never did that. He kept on nibbling and kissing her while his hands had a mind of their own.She had never known that love making with clothes could be so much intense and passionate.

She thought of all the boy friends that she had, how each one of them only had wanted her body over her love. All they could think of being naked with her. And here this cute stranger was making her want him with all of their clothes on. She wanted him to go on and on.It was early hours of the morning. She woke up first and found herself in his embrace. He was still sleeping. She found him even cuter while he was asleep.

Suddenly the lights of the bus came on. The bus had arrived in Pune. She thought of not waking him up, wanted him to go till Mumbai with her. But then against her better judgment she woke him up. He got up and without saying anything planted a kiss on her lips.She said.."We didn't even have the names of each other". He replied.."Is it necessary..?? It would be nice if we remain strangers only for each other. Then only this night would become special for us in future...”.

She wished the night hadn't ended...she wished the morning hadn't come. Not that night..!!

Smoky Affairs

If you want to smoke ping me privately ". Rohan received this from Jiya. The first of the many texts he was about to receive in the coming months. What had exactly transpired in Jiya's mind that day while sending this text, both of them would never know. But nevertheless this one text broke the ice between them.

Rohan had been introduced to Jiya's group through one of his friend. But on the first meeting all he could see was Jiya's amazing tattoo on her left ankle. It was an dove. He wanted to see the face of the person who had the tattoo but sadly never got a chance.

Seeing the text Rohan didn't hesitate to reply back. He was still in awe of those eyes and here was a chance he did not want to let go.They went to a place far from the prying crowd. Rohan lit up the cigarette. Pulled in a long drag and passed it to Jiya. Rohan saw her perfect lips fall moved apart to accommodate the butt of the cigarette. She pulled in a long drag and released the smoke. All the while her eyes never leaving sight of Rohan. Rohan felt hypnotized. Jiya had large piercing eyes. The kind of eyes which have a hold on you. The kind of eyes which makes you to give your all.

They started to talk. Rohan was a charmer when it came to talking. Jiya felt she could talk about anything and everything with him even though this was their first meet. As the cigarette burned away Rohan and Jiya grew comfortable of each other.After their smoking session, they both left for their respective office buildings. But their whatsapp never stopped working. A flurry of texts were exchanged between them. Rohan found out here was someone who was just like him. Addicted. Addicted to him as he was to her.

In the evening Rohan thought of asking her for a drink. But then he was unsure how she would respond to it. Saying a silent prayer he sent out a text to her asking for a drink. After a minute she replied sure but where. Rohan put in your place or somewhere outside, you say. (After all Rohan was a guy, and sometimes his hormones grew better of him).Jiya was still thinking what to reply. Even her hormones were playing around with her mind. It wasn't that Rohan was good looking or something, but he had charmed his way to her through his talks. Also the fact he was cute, added to jiya's hormonal surge. After a bit of thinking she replied somewhere out. Awesome, see you at 8, came his reply.

The drinks were working their way through the weak minds of Rohan and Jiya. The last one hour at the pub had brought out a flurry of topics within them which ranged from discussion about her tattoo to the places they had previously made out.Rohan could feel the sexual tension growing between them as more drinks made its way through his throat to his brain. Jiya was smiling continuously. Her smiles drew Rohan more to her. The smiles made it perfectly clear that even Jiya could feel the tension between them. The smile carried a bit of naughtiness and a lot of flirtiness with it.

It was time to leave. They both went to the parking lot. Both of them high on drinks and smokes.As Rohan was about to get on his bike, Jiya asked "Have you ever made out in a parking lot ". Without thinking, Rohan caught hold of her head and leaned his lips against her. The moment they touched it was as if an electric current went through both of them keeping them joined. They couldn't get enough of each other. It was instant addiction for Rohan with Jiya's tiny beauty spot beside her lips.Finally they let go.

But it was only the beginning of long run of addiction between them.

Someone has rightly said"When you share a cigarette, you share your life story with that person. And leads to new stories in making."

Beer Belly

“It’s a naughty world, that’s all I can hear in this IPL. “ Ananya said. Rohan laughed out. It was naughty after all, he thought.
They were sitting in this lounge near their office. Ananya and Rohan had connected over facebook. This was their second meeting. They had come to celebrate KKR’s win over CSK last night at the Eden Garden.

Ananya was wearing a red halter with denims hot pants. She was a natural beauty and didn’t believe in any make up. There was tinge of kohl in her eyes. The lip gloss gleamed over her pink lips. A strand of hair was falling over her temple playfully which made her even more pretty.
Rohan was hardly following what Ananya was speaking. He was still concentrating on her pink lips. Dreaming what it would be to like to feel them. But it was a dream that he knew wouldn’t be turned into reality. Ananya was already seeing someone at her office.

It was Ananya who had suggested about this lounge. She couldn’t drink with the guy whom she was seeing since he was a non-drinker. But this was special. KKR had won against the team she didn’t like and that called for a celebration over drinks. Rohan seemed the obvious choice, since all the guy at her office were after her.

The beer bottles kept on piling. Both of them were fast drinkers. Rohan was amazed to see this girl’s love for beer. Their topic moved from IPL to cursing their bosses back at their respective office.

Rohan looked around. Most of the guys, single or with their girlfriends kept stealing glances at Ananya. Clearly she was the hottest girl in that lounge. He felt a sense of pride of knowing her. But she seemed unaware of all the attention she was getting.

The crowd was dispersing. Very few people were left in the lounge. The clock over the bar counter said 1am. In one of the corner of the lounge, a pile of beer bottles were lying. Rohan and Ananya were lying next to each other. Their heads using each other as support. Both of them were still speaking but only the lips were moving without the sound.

All that beer had gone down into their bladders and screamed to be let out of their system. Ananya asked Rohan to accompany her to the washroom. With great efforts both of them got up and made their way to the washroom.

The washroom was located outside the lounge connected by a long passageway. Their legs had a mind of their own moving in their own direction. Twice on their way, they bumped into the side walls.

They both went inside their respective washrooms. Releasing the beer from his system, Rohan felt a lot lighter. It seemed the beer was talking to him. Suddenly he found a courage that he didn’t knew before.

Without thinking anything, Rohan did something which he wouldn’t have dreamt doing in his wildest dreams. He went inside the girl’s washroom.
Ananya was just applying water on her face by the wash basin when she heard the door open. Moving her head, she couldn’t believe what she saw. Rohan was standing there.

Maybe it was the surprise or the shock of what she saw, that she didn’t move him away when Rohan came straight to her and planted a kiss on her lips. Maybe it was the beer which made her lose her inhibitions and kiss him back.

Rohan felt at top of his world. He couldn’t believe he was kissing Ananya, let alone holding her in his arms. Their tongues had a dance of their own. He felt kissing her everywhere.

Ananya voluntarily tilted her neck sideways and brought Rohan’s mouth on them. Rohan bit her hard. But she didn’t feel the pain only the pleasure.
Rohan had his eyes closed. Suddenly he could hear a voice saying, stop it. He didn’t care, for he had the girl of his dream in his arms.

Rohan felt his head spinning, along with Ananya and the entire washroom.

Rohan opened his eyes expecting to see Ananya. Deb’s eyes were still closed with bite marks on his neck and tongue sticking out.

It was morning.

IPL 7 : A Lookback

Yes, finally we did it. When all critics and other teams had written us off, we bounced back and got hold of the cup. As they say we peaked at the right time.


Whenever i think of KKR, i always get a mini heart attack. The team is like that. Loves to give dramatic finishes. Earlier it used to be like KKR and the Indian cricket team were two teams who could turn any winning game into losing ones. And they were so good in that. But suddenly both the above teams transformed. Individual performances were turned into collective effort and the rest as they say is history.


But then this year's IPL was the one to be remembered for a hell lot of things. Youngsters came into limelight, not one or two but a hell lot of them. Chahel,Mohit sharma,manan vohra, sanju samson, ishwar pandey,kedhar jadhav are only some of the names amongst them.


This IPL gave us some awesome memorable moments. Chris lynn miracle catch, Pollard's thoughtful catch,Mumbai chasing down 190 in 14 overs, Corey anderson's superb knock, Pathan hitting the world's fastest bowler Steyn like gully cricket bowler, The decimation of Sehwag, The flurry of sixes from Maxwell, One man show by AB De Villiers, Raina's run chase, Saha's century, Super over win by Rajasthan, Knock of David Warner, Ducks of Gambhir followed by his return to form, The mystery of Narine, Uthappa's match winning knocks, Preity zinta's dimple, Dhoni's anger, fight between Pollard and Starc, Outburst of Dravid, Delhi's slumpy form, Faulkner's cameo, Harbhajan lifting Nita Ambani, The full packed stadium, the 100 shades of emotions, the blabbering of siddhu, the hotness of shibani, the 60 days of non stop action.


This year's final was a final worth to remember. The likes where big names like Sehwag,maxwell,bailey,miller had a combined score of 8 between them and yet the team went on to score 199. The likes when the mystery man Narine was butched by the only bengali Wriddhiman saha for bounderies and sixes. The likes when the man with Orange cap failed to perform. And the likes when a punjabi hit the winning runs for a bengal team and ran around the ground like a mad man.


60 days of non stop actions comes to an end only to give way to an even bigger celebration on global scale the Fifa World Cup.


Till then : KORLAM LORLAM AND JEETLAM..:D

Intoxication

It was cold. Not the regular pleasant cold but the frosty teeth clattering cold. The world seemed not to notice him. Why would they. He was not someone well known or not even one of those faces which you would remember. He was from a lower strata of the society whom people overlooked, seldom even acknowledging their presence.

Disheveled hair. White face turned black with the coal picking and the pollution. Hands as rough as they can get in a 10 year old boy. Slender food deprived frame. Wearing a tattered red shirt and black half pants. The only thing striking about him was the eyes. Even in the harsh surrounding around him and of his life, they gleamed with a strange hope.

He was passing by the main road. Looking calmly into the windows of the shops. The clothes and the mannequin seemed to hold his attention. He looked at this trio of mannequin which consisted of a man, wife and a little child. They were well dressed. Even though they were lifeless, looking at them gave him a sense of life. He was reminded of his own parents or maybe a figment of them. They had passed away long back leaving him to the fate of this harsh world.

Slowly crossing the main road, he went into the lane beside. People hardly used to notice this lane. It was as if it didn’t exist for the general crowd. It was narrow and dark. Rotten smell from the years of dumping waste at the end of the lane discouraged anyone entering there.

He quietly went there and sat on one side of the lane. From out his pockets he took out an old plastic and the tube. The white color of the plastic was no more. It had turned into a dying shade of yellow. The tube was at the end of its life. He squeezed out the tube with all the strength he had to get the drops of the white paste into the plastic. Satisfied no more could come out, he threw away the tube.

He pushed his nose and mouth into the plastic and gave a deep inhale. Instantly he was transported to a world which felt like home. He forgot the cold, the hunger, the poverty, the everyday abuses by his owner, the looks of the passing crowd, the filth.
He closed his eyes and pictured his parents wearing the same clothes as that of the mannequins. He felt happy.


He inhaled again. More deeply.

The bond between us

It was eleven o' clock in a chilly winter night. I was in my room dead to the world outside cramming as hard as I could for my forthcoming examinations.

The few friends I had, had promised not to disturb me at night, knowing I was at last studying in earnest.

It was therefore with feelings stronger than surprise that I heard my doorbell ring on that particular night.

I jumped up from my seat with an exclamation of anger.

The bell rang for the second time with more urgency and I said to myself: ?The fellows all know that I am studying for this exam. Why in the world do they bother me at this unearthly hour??

As I opened the door still clutching my book, I saw a stranger. He was a short and youngish man. His face was a pallid white with eyes, which were very bright and had a strange mischievous glint in them.

Though his cheek and chin were unkempt and unshaven, he looked like a gentleman as he was well-dressed and bore himself with a certain degree of finesse. But strangest fact was that he had no umbrella although it was pouring heavily outside.

A hundred questions sprang to my mind. But chiefly I thought: Who in the world is he?? But none of them came out from my lips because as he turned a little, light fell on him from the bulb.

I exclaimed: Gorky! Man! Your alive? Is that you??

Come in man. Is there something wrong, you okay?? I hardly knew what to say as I stammered with excitement. We had been the best of buddies since childhood, sharing all our joys, sorrows and secrets.

Then suddenly we were completely cut-off from each other. He went on to pursue law while the engineering bug caught me.

As I led him through the hall I noticed he was tad unsteady and evidently much exhausted. How did he get here? But the questions seemed less important as I saw my friend after such a long time.

Come along, I said gleefully. I was just going to have supper and you are right on time.

He made no reply and was more unsteady, so I took his arms to support him and felt that his clothes hung loosely on him. He was as thin as a skeleton.

I said: Let me get the supper ready on the table, and made him sit on the sofa.

Afterwards as he finished eating I happened to look at his face and it sent shivers through my body.

His face was white as a chalk piece. I said to him: How foolish of me not to offer you beverages. Would you like something to drink? .....Are you feeling all right??

As he drank from the glass, I noticed his overcoat which was dry and covered in dust and mud, as if he had rolled on the ground.

I was starting to ponder over this but Gorky was looking terribly drowsy so I took him to my bedroom and made him feel comfortable.

He fell asleep instantly with a rhythmic loud snoring. Poor chap, must be exhausted, I thought.

I returned to my cramming in the study room. In the wee hours of the next day before I went off to sleep, I went to see if Gorky was all right.

But I was surprised not to see him on the bed although I could hear him snore even then.

I called out to him but there was no answer. Then I searched the room going through every nook and corner, but no luck!

I lay down where he was sleeping before and soon exhausted by the hours of studying I dozed off waiting for my friend. I don't know how long I slept but I was woken up with a start by the loud snore that came from right beside me. I turned and found no one.

Now my mind was hyper active. I gulped down three glasses of water.

Am I hallucinating? Was my exam stress making me imagine all this? Was my hope to see my dear friend making me hallucinate? But I thought of the supper we ate together and the water he drank.

I went to the kitchen and saw all the food I had laid out for him was still there. I had been feeding no one!

Then it came to me that during the whole time Gorky had not spoken a single word. But what about the snoring, which was still loud and clear

My eyes fell on my wrist where there was now a fresh line of blood and my mind raced back to our school field where Gorky and I had cut each other's wrists and exchanged drops of blood.

We had promised to meet each other before we died. It was a promise that was sealed by blood.

Suddenly, the bell rang and I jumped. It was the postman. He gave me a letter. I opened and it read

Dear Max,

It pains me to tell you that Gorky was found dead on his bed today morning. Doctors assessed he had died of a heart attack 12 hours before.....!!

12 hours before, Gorky kept his promise you see...

The girl next door

The sun was almost lost in the laps of darkness. Somewhere among the everyday jostling between the crowded buses, she was returning home. She was your average looking next door girl. A plain Jane as they used to say. Hair all tousled from the sweating Kolkata heat. Dressed in a casual grey top and blue denims. People would hardly care for a second look towards her.
The only striking feature was her eyes. The kind of eyes you will find on the face of goddess durga. Like the strokes of a painter's brush. The kind of eye that drills past you and looks directly into your soul.
She reached her home. Her home. 1 bhk. Blue walls. A large mirror. A single bed. Few books lying on the bed. A large wardrobe.
She went for a bath. The cold water washed much more than just her. The water seemed to wash her soul too.
She came out. An orange towel wrapped around her to protect her modesty. She came and stood in front of the large full length mirror. She examined herself dropping down the towel. The water droplets moved down her curves inching slowly. Her curves, she was proud about them.
She opened the cupboard. Picked up a shimmery LBD. Then decided against it. Picked up a sheer black sari. Tried it on. Looked herself in the mirror again. The 40 watt bulb from the background threw diffused light from the back of her sari. She looked sideways. The silhouette accentuated her curves even more. Satisfied she dabbed a bit of mascara and lipstick (the bright red one) on her lips. She rolled her lips on top of each other to even out the lipstick.
After getting through with the intricacies of getting ready she sat down on her bed. She took up a fat looking book. Mathematics it said on the cover. Very slowly she turned to the middle page of the book.
The green leaves gave a distinct aroma. The kind of aroma which is hard to forget once you have smelled it. She picked up the leaves and started to grind it with her small fingers. The smell of the leaves and the sweat of her hands gave out a peculiar smell.
She placed the grinded leaves into a white paper and rolled it up using her saliva as adhesive. Satisfied with the result she placed the joint in her mouth and lit it up. She pulled in a deep drag.
Soon she was transported to a world of inhibitions and lightness. With each passing drag she forgot who she was and became who she was going to be.
The bell rang. It was time. The smoke washed away her fears and emotions. The society craved her body but they couldn't touch her free soul.