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Showing posts from 2016

Evaluation 2016.0

you were heavy,
and i needed you to be.
i needed you to weigh me
into the ground so hard
that i was forced to learn the lesson
of what it really means
to let go of something."
-- Danielle Doby

Marginal utility of each passing year increases at galloping motion with age. It seems like only last month I was evaluating 2015 and trying to jot down my resolutions for 2016. Then time suddenly took the fast forward mode and before I know it I’m again half lying in front of my laptop in my shabby pyjamas and my favourite pink Turkish socks and trying hard not to lose hope one more time. And yet, it turned out to be much easier than I had thought.

2016 has been the most eventful year of my life in the past decade. And the edgiest. In fact it was dangerously hanging over the precipice. One inch of slip and I would be sitting here labelling it as the year of disaster (nobody would be surprised by that though). Well, did you ever see a sine graph? A sine function wiggles from positive to …


Once upon a time when I was still young and naïve enough to abide by my parents’ choice my family’s favourite weekend getaway was Digha. If the main reason behind this shameless partiality was the availability of my father’s office holiday home then the secondary reason was Digha’s convenient location. Wake up early, get dressed, and board a Volvo. Four hours journey and you get to feel the humid beach wind on your face. Nostalgia is not my strong suit and I hardly look back at those holidays with much pleasure. Because Digha or as a matter of fact any other beaches of Bengal are as boring as it can get unless you have booze or any other means of entertainment only permissible for 18 and above. Good news for me, I am an adult now. So Mandarmoni did not sound so horrific when the proposition was first placed on the table.

However there is hardly anything that we did that would provide good material for even a tiny travelogue. We took the train from Howrah to Digha. Mandarmoni is rough…

Quote of the Week

Billy Mack: I realised that Christmas is... is the time to be with the people you love.
Joe: Right.
Billy Mack: And I realised that, as dire chance and... and... and fateful cockup would have it, here I am, mid-50s, and without knowing it I've gone and spent most of my adult life with a... with a chubby employee. And... and much as it grieves me to say it, it... it might be that the people I love is, in fact... you.

-- Love Actually (2003)

Merry Christmas everyone! Never give up on love. :)


The Bimbo and the Sleuth

Dear Zindagi
To be honest, I have no idea why I went to see this one. I guess I was feeling way too delirious and just picked the movie randomly. People might think I need to get my head checked. After all, if you just look at Alia Bhatt for more than ten minutes your IQ drops at least ten points. Throw in a bearded SRK and you end up feeling like Leonardo DiCaprio stuck in the Shutter Island for two and half hours trying to figure out whatever the fuck is going on. DZ is the story of a girl Kyra with intimacy issues in life. Why? Well, because her filthy rich parents (who, by the way, has got a swimming pool in the backyard of their Goa mansion.) ‘abandons’ five years old Kyra to her filthy rich grandparents who also happen to own a big, fat villa in Goa and goes to some phoren country looking for more dough. Sad, little Kyra grows up to be a commitment phobic little whore who fiddles with camera and shoots so-incredibly-mediocre-that-it-borders-on-ridiculous scenes. Oh it’s because …

Being Insane

You know how exhilarating it is to be the crooked, insane one? The so-called normal people will never be able to comprehend this. We are bonkers. Batshit crazy. And fully aware of it. Insanity is our choice, not helplessness. We are that heady punch of madness and philosophy that will leave you begging for more. We are compassionate in the most indifferent and cruellest way possible. That’s why darkness does not freak us out. We appreciate if you wish to get vulnerable and show us the darkest part of your soul. We promise to touch that throbbing, festering mound of flesh with our ever healing fingers and make room for light. If you give us cuts and bruises, we will make a map out of it to guide your way to salvation. Long before you came into our life with the promise of sandcastle we had put our soul on fire and turned our vulnerability into an invincible armour around us. How could your poison kill us when poison runs through our veins? No matter how hard you try you will never be …


Blackout by Alec Essefic

Blackout poetry is created by simply blacking out the lines off a book or a newspaper, leaving only the highlighted random words that weave themselves together into poems.


Lately I am going through something I have never experienced before in my entire life so far. A state of absolute disconnection. As if some magical fairy creature swished the wand and put all the chaos to sleep all of a sudden. At first I was quite shocked at my state of composure. After all I am someone who has both GAD and BPD. Freaking out over nothing is my signature move. How could I possibly be so calm and nonchalant? Ok here goes the confession. I freaked out for a bit for not freaking out. I thought I had turned into one of those empty shell people who give up on feeling anything after being screwed over repeatedly. Then I thought I could be heading for a delayed reaction fiasco. It took me some time to realize it was none of the cataclysmic scenarios I was fancying in my head. I am no longer wailing up reading sad tumblr poetry. I am no longer having morning periods. I am no longer having anxiety attacks. Rather I am laughing at good jokes. I am taking care of my dogs again.…

Quote of the Week

I feel like it's the
broken ones
that romanticize the rotten,
the terrifying and terribles
Maybe we just want
to feel beautiful,
or maybe we want people
to see that we have
so great a capacity
to love,
to feel,
that we had to crack
to make room.

-- Chrissie Pinney | Cracks


Because I Wear My Heart on My Skin

The first thing people ask me when they see my tattoos is, "Wow is that permanent?" The second one follows quite immediately and inevitably. "Did it hurt?"
Well being a believer in Buddhism I am fiercely against the naivety called permanence. Fuck I can't even maintain a boyfriend long enough to stick around to wish me on my birthday. Some day my mortal body will go back to where it came from. So no, like everything else my tattoo is definitely not permanent. But yes, I would definitely die with those ink marks on my body.
And in reply to the next question, yes bitch it hurt. They will keep on drilling your skin on the same spot until the ink soaks through the outer layer of the skin into dermis. So it did hurt a little. And before you ask me why I put myself through the pain voluntarily and also paid for it I am going to read your mind and answer it anyway.
Because I love feeling that pain. Pain makes me feel that I am not dead yet. And it feels absolutely en…

Quote of the Week

A day will come when you think yourself safe and happy, and suddenly your joy will turn to ashes in your mouth, and you’ll know the debt is paid.
-- George R. R. Martin | A Clash of Kings


Books I Read This Month

November hasn’t been a smooth sailing month for me. Well the three years younger me would have chosen to say it differently. It has been a bad month. I am no longer that person. The more life is trying to strangulate the living shit out of me the more I am unearthing hope from that pile of shit. And bloody hell, I am an adventure junkie; I get my kick from uncertainty. So despite all I made it a point to sit and read and finish the books. One of my favourite people once told me to live, read, write more aggressively when life gets harder. I am not very good at following advice but this one I had imprinted in my head.
Me Before You by Jojo Meyes “...I told him a story of two people. Two people who shouldn't have met, and who didn't like each other much when they did, but who found they were the only two people in the world who could possibly have understood each other.”
The last time I cried this much after reading a book was probably Deathly Hallows. This is the story of Willia…

Monsters under the Bed

The nights are dark, cold and long. But it's the early mornings that I fear the most. It's when the monsters under the bed come alive. They don't have long teeth or contorted face, nor do they make scary noise. Rather they look like the people I once loved. People who once made promises of never going away. People whom I fear the most. All day I put my best efforts not to remember those faces again. I sweep them under the bed where the light gives in to darkness. They wait patiently while feasting on the land beyond oblivion. The early dawn when the sunlight hits the sleepy floor they come out from under the bed. Their silent whisper sounds like betrayal. Their kiss feels like broken promises. Their laugh echoes through the walls of my crumbling sandcastle. I want to stop them from touching my face with their long, rotting fingers but I can't move. I want to scream, 'Go away fuckers!' but I have no voice.
Every morning I wake up with bloodstains on my pillow.

Quote of the Week

If there’s empty spaces in your heart, They’ll make you think it’s wrong, Like having empty spaces, Means you can never be strong, But I’ve learnt that all these spaces, Means there’s room enough to grow, And the people that once filled them, Were always meant to be let go, And all these empty spaces, Create a strange sort of pull, That attract so many people, You wouldn’t meet if they were full, So if you’re made of empty spaces, Don’t ever think it’s wrong,
Because maybe they’re just empty, Until the right person comes along.
-- Erin Hanson | Empty Spaces


Pain teaches you humility. It snatches away the last ounce of faith from your heart and watches what you can grow back in that empty, barren field out of nothing. It brings you back from the land of oblivion and shoves life back into your face. Now live! Feel every moment of it that you have been wasting away all this time with your delusional take on permanence. So just for once, stop struggling. Just stop trying to escape the inevitable. Kneel. And like the first ray of sunshine after rain give a big smile to the universe through the flood of tears drowning your face and say "Thank you. Thank you for the gift." And then wear that pain around your neck like a beautiful, star-crossed necklace dipped in poison. Let it soak through your skin every time you breathe. Let it spread through your veins. Let it sink into your bones. Embrace the burn. Enjoy the agony. Remain awake. Feel how the little stardust of pain sneaking into every last atom of your existence. Experience how th…

One More Time

Doctor Strange

“I’m not ready” “No one ever is. We don’t get to choose our time.”
I was about to take an indefinite break from blogging. Well that possibility is still in the cards. But then something strange happened. Doctor Stephen Strange. And when the new Marvel movie is in the block you blog about it, no matter how badly life is kicking you left, right and center. On Monday morning there were 8 people in total at the multiplex. Including me. I love watching movie in empty theatres. It makes me feel privileged. And also, I can freely express my emotions (read cry the fuck out in the dark). Doctor Strange gave me plenty of such chances. Well I have told here before, I take my life lessons from Marvel movies. So when Doctor Strange drawls, “Pain’s an old friend” the line between the fiction and the reality suddenly goes blurred.
Doctor Stephen Strange is an eminent neurosurgeon from New York whose life comes to a standstill after a car accident. Severe nerve damage in both hands leads the Doctor f…

Quote of the Week

"I really believe, Horton," said Mr. Abbot, "that you value canine life above human life."
"Every time!" said the Major. "Dogs can't turn round on you like human beings can. Never get a nasty word from a dog."
"Only a nasty tooth stuck into your leg," said Mr. Abbot. "What about that, eh, Horton?"
"Dogs are a good judge of character," said Major Horton.
"One of your brutes nearly pinned me by the leg last week. What do you say to that, Horton?"
"Same as I said just now!"

-- Agatha Christie | Murder is Easy

In loving memory of one of my babies who left us last week. I hope he is happy now on the other side of the rainbow bridge. Love you forever.

11.59 pm

Quote of the Week

There’s no music, no confetti Crowds don’t cheer, and bells don’t ring But you’ll know it, I can guarantee When the right one comes along
What they’re thinkin’, what you’re feelin, You no longer have to guess All those questions are finally put to rest When the right one comes along
Every single broken heart will lead you to the truth You think you know what you’re lookin for
Til what you’re lookin for finds you

-- When The Right One Comes Along (Artists: Clare Bowen, Sam Palladio)

Surviving Life

Let me begin with the disclaimer. This is NOT a self-help post. Yet, it is. Sounds perplexing? Let me explain. I am in no way trying to write a ‘‘how to cope with depression in 6 easy steps (with Getty images of beautiful model posing on the polished streets of first world nation)’’. I hate those self-help blogs. And I am THE LAST person on earth to give advice on how to live life like a fully functional human being. No, I am writing this to help me and myself only. Because my blog is the only place for me where I can write anything addressing a world full of strangers without the fear of being judged. And, it is a much better option than sending long emails and text messages to an ex who is too embarrassed and conflicted to reply you back. Or perhaps they just don’t give a shit. So let’s get started.
Avoid self-help websites and books at any cost And those online support forums where all kinds of depressed, fucked up people from all around the world gather and discuss about their fuc…

Quote of the Week

And it's a human need to be told stories. The more we're governed by idiots and have no control over our destinies, the more we need to tell stories to each other about who we are, why we are, where we come from, and what might be possible.

-- Alan Rickman

If you don't know who Alan Rickman is, well, then I can't help you dunderheads.

The Familiarity of Pain

You know there is a familiarity in pain? The hollowness inside your chest. The burning eyes yet no sign of tear. The bleakness ahead. The unbelievable urge to fall asleep and never wake up again? Who says willing to live is the strongest instinct? Sometimes you badly want to die, just to make the pain stop. And it feels all so familiar. Like a nightmarish déjà vu came back to haunt you. Like an old neighbour or a batchmate that you lost contact with, but never forgot their face. When an old pain creeps up back into your life you feel shocked at first. Wow! Do I know you? Have we met before? Pain smiles and replies, “Remember when you had your heart shattered into pieces?”

Quote of the Week

It's 3 a.m. I'm still awake. I'm losing sleep. I'm losing myself.

I'm losing you.

So I write tonight. I write for everyone of us who has suffered.
Every one of us who is broken.
Every one of us who has a damaged soul.
Every one of us whose brilliant scarlet became just another red.

This is for us, the broken ones.

And for the ones who broke us in two.

-- Nikita Gill | Why I Write at 3 am

Sikkim Revisited/2

Our next morning started with fog and rain again. I was beginning to fear that rain was not going to leave us during our whole trip. However as long as I was away from my godawful regular life, nothing could make me upset, let alone some rain.
Today was Monday. We started our city tour after having breakfast at Baker’s Cafe. I had been to all the places before so I was supposed to feel less enthusiastic. Instead I was feeling the sheer joy of homecoming.

We did not get to see anything from Tashi view point as expected. Sky was still cloudy but fortunately the rain had stopped. We met two incredibly friendly dogs at the top. One almost shoved his nose in my chest and was not at all ready to let me go. Last time we had had lunch at this roadside restaurant here. Great local food with beautiful view for free. It was nice to find nothing had changed much there. I could even spot the smiling old man pouring rounds of warm water from table to table just like the last time.

By the time the …

Sikkim Revisited/1

When I announced the news to my mother the first reaction of her was, “Sikkim? Again?” I tried to explain that Sikkim is a big state and we were going to explore a different region this time. I lied to my mother. I indeed went back to the same places I had been before. How could I not? What I did not tell her that, one never gets tired of going back where they truly belong. For me, Sikkim is home, for some inexplicable reason that is beyond the comprehension of anyone with little or no imagination.

It was drizzling when we finally reached Gangtok on 24th evening. This time I thought of staying at a place a little away from M G Marg – the promenade that is the heart of the town. No sooner we settled in our room it started pouring heavily. As if the rain was welcoming us with all its vigor. My spirit was dampened a little but the stubborn optimist in me was telling me that as long as there was a tomorrow, there was always the hope for things to improve.

I woke up early next morning. Ea…

Pujo Diaries/4

Over past few years my pujo routine has become so identical that one year seems to be the mirror reflection of the previous one. Is an impasse a good thing? Well, my ‘so-tired-and-scared-of-disappointment-and-disaster-that-it-no-longer-hopes-for-anything-better’ mind thinks that a standstill is always better than things becoming worse than they actually are. The only difference is that I did not participate in the phuchka eating competition this year.

Since my very childhood I have never stopped wondering how pujo comes and ends so fast? Four days pass by in the blink of an eye and before you know it the married ladies are smearing each other’s face with vermilion and you are standing in the corner thinking whose feet you are supposed to touch against your wish so people don’t think you are a ‘gone case’. In every neighbourhood or complex there is at least one person who would start bending over before anyone who is even a day older than them the moment the matador van leaves the pan…

Quote of the Week

“The ones who are not soul-mated – the ones who have settled – are even more dismissive of my singleness: It’s not that hard to find someone to marry, they say. No relationship is perfect, they say – they, who make do with dutiful sex and gassy bedtime rituals, who settle for TV as conversation, who believe that husbandly capitulation – yes, honey, okay, honey – is the same as concord. He’s doing what you tell him to do because he doesn’t care enough to argue, I think. Your petty demands simply make him feel superior, or resentful, and someday he will fuck his pretty, young coworker who asks nothing of him, and you will actually be shocked. (. . .)
So I know I am right not to settle, but it doesn’t make me feel better as my friends pair off and I stay home on Friday night with a bottle of wine and make myself an extravagant meal and tell myself, This is perfect, as if I’m the one dating me. As I go to endless rounds of parties and bar nights, perfumed and sprayed and hopeful, rotating …

Pujo Diaries/3

Until two years back I was an enthusiastic pandal hopper. From the day of Mahalaya I would start making my list of the high profile pujos and a well planned itinerary to cover it all. Now the mere sight of crowd gives me nightmare. I cannot believe I was once part of it. So when A from our group asked me to accompany her and her friend on pandal-hopping on Navami morning, all I could say was, No thanks. Instead I woke up at nine o’ clock in the morning and by the time I got ready and finally went downstairs everyone at the pandal was gearing up to play Housie. Since I am a socially awkward human being and any kind of group or community activity makes me want to kill myself I wasn’t feeling very keen about it. Even the exciting prizes (water bottles, hand juicers, plastic trays) failed to allure me. Aunty (D’s mom) won a water bottle and a plastic cutlery holder and posed for us with a sheepish grin on her face. My luck was not so good.

After Housie was over we decided to visit the ne…