Bhallagchhe na. Bhallagchhe na.

Whenever I visit my blog, I sit and futilely wonder why I don't blog more often. Why why why? Not only do I enjoy it (whatever little of it that I have done! =P ), but the knowledge that what is a release for you is often likely (maybe) to be appreciated, or at least read and thought about, by others, like-minded or otherwise, is a nice feeling.
I love Srin's blog, as well as Aveek's, Shaapla's and a few others'. They write about things one would actually want to read at the end of the day. And what keeps people going to their blogs to read what they have to say is largely due to the fact that they're all consistent bloggers. Yes, of course, they're immensely enjoyable to read. But, take my blog for example...why would anyone want to keep visiting my blog if he/she saw that for days, weeks and months on end, I posted nothing? Purely from the point of view of another, I'd consider it a waste of time.
Yet, though I come online everyday and do various other things, I always invariably neglect this.
Someone I love told me that, largely, I'm not proactive, I'm reactive. I couldn't agree more.
There are a million things I decide I'll do with a sudden rush of enthusiasm. All gung-ho, ready to go, let's-make-things-happen sort of thing. And then, as you might have guessed, the enthusiasm starts to wane, till it fizzles out, and I'm left thinking "achha chuck it, pore hobe". The only thing is that, pore hoye na.
College begins from tomorrow. Jadavpur University, Comparative Literature. Rohan told me I'll hate the daily commute. Especially since, for 13-14 years, all I had to do to get to school/college from home, was to walk for half a minute across the street =)
The Experience begins from tomorrow =)
Its time to be "proactive".
Good luck to me.

Taken from Mirna

TEN things you wish you could say to people right now (don't take names):

• I miss you terribly.
• Why is that you only contact me when you need something from me?
• Don't you think it's time you learnt to do your own work?
• Thank you, baby.
• I'm so sorely disappointed in you, it's not funny.
• I'm sorry, I wish I could have done it differently.
• Why? Why? WHY?
• You superficial, two-faced, judgemental bitch, you got what you deserved. First you pass judgement on my friend because of something she does, and then you go and do it yourself. Up yours, airhead.
• I love you.
• I wonder where you are right now.

NINE things about yourself:

• I'm conscious about my gradual weight gain.
• I'm hypersensitive and emotional.
• I used to have lovely hair. Wonder where it all went.
• I think I seriously suffer from Borderline Personality Disorder.
• I scream when I'm angry.
• I cannot handle whiskey.
• I have never smoked up. And never felt curious about it either.
• I take an insane amount of sugar in my tea/coffee. That probably explains the weight gain partially.
• I love chick flicks.

EIGHT ways to NOT win your heart:

• Hate dogs and cats.
• Have two left feet.
• Think no end of yourself.
• Show minimal interest in food.
• Proudly proclaim that you "don't read".
• Be overtly physically affectionate without me indicating that you are one of the few who are allowed to.
• Try to sound obtuse and random, thinking that you sound very smart.
• Be judgemental. Either about me or about my friends.

SEVEN things that cross your mind a lot:

• Ufffff, aar bhalo lagchhe na.
• When will i reduce?
• What can I read after this?
• What the fuck am I doing? I should be studying!
• Dude, PLEASE, for ONCE, let there be something yummy in the fridge.
• I want to resume dance training.
• Thank God I have you.

SIX things you wish you had never done:

• Passed up the opportunity to go to Delhi and visit my Pishi in January. Now, I'll never see her again.
• Made so many efforts to set things right with A.
• Neglected my hair.
• Trusted D so implicitly.
• Yelled at Mom in circumstances that were embarrassing for her.
• Wasted so much of time.

FIVE turn-offs:

• Chauvinism.
• Elders who think that they are automatically right/you are automatically wrong just because they are older than you.
• Body Odour.
• Brainlessness.
• Bloated egos.

FOUR turn-ons:

• Chivalry (I firmly believe that there is a difference between chivalry and chauvinism).
• A sense of humour.
• The clean-shaven look after months of growing the Amazon forest on one's face.
• Respect.

THREE things you want to do before you die:

• Adopt a girl.
• Travel all of India, and then the world.
• Meet the infamous South Carolina contestant of Miss Teen USA, in order to convince myself that I wasn't hallucinating/hearing things when I watched the pageant. (Yes, I watch beauty pageants).

TWO smileys that describe you:

• =/
• =P

ONE confession:

• I take 6 spoonfuls of sugar in my tea.

I tag Mirna, Ponchee, Bubu Da, Rohit, Abhi, Aveek and Shaapla.

Babla Pishi

My Pishi succumbed to her illness on the 7th of April, 2008, after a long battle of four years. Her suffering was indescribable.

And in the midst of it all, she still requested people to "go and have a bit of coffee/tea", even when, lying on the hospital bed, keeping her eyes open and uttering even a word was painful and laborious for her.

Two years ago, when it was difficult for her to stand for too long, she stood with me in the kitchen and taught me how to make "peyaji".

A gem of a human being. Not too many of her calibre left in this world anymore.

And needless to say....she was gorgeous.

It still hasn't sunk in. I don't know when it will.

I cannot believe it.

Ranjini Mazumder Sen...a beautiful, strong, successful, selfless, intelligent and caring woman...my Babla Pishi.

She's still with us. I know.

Pishi's extremely unwell. Cancer relapse. Deteriorating fast. Baba, who is usually reticent, said that there may not be any time left.
I don't know why I'm blogging about something so personal. I'm just in the depths of desperation right now, and I need all the prayers and good wishes I can get for her.

Please pray. Whether or not your believe in God. Please pray.
I need a miracle.

Holi 2008.

This year was the first time in twenty-one years that I did not play Holi.

And I can tell you, it feels bloody awful.

One of my aunts, who I am very close to, is suffering from breast cancer, and recently she had a relapse. The cancer has advanced considerably, she is in acute pain, cannot even eat properly, and hence it just didn't feel right to celebrate while she suffers.

Really wanted to meet up with Rai and Siddharth because I haven't seen them for quite a while, especially Rai. I even thought that I'd just go and sit around with the whole jing bang, after explaining to them why I'm in no mood to play. But after stopping 3-4 cabs and seeing how drunk/stoned out of their senses the cabbies were, I decided not to risk it. So I just sat at home.

The day wasn't completely wasted, though. Ayan came in the evening and took Piu and me to watch "Race". Both of them are Christians, so they had Good Friday today. Hence, both of them had to attend a Mass not less than three hours long, and thus were in dire need of cheering up as well =) "Race", thankfully, achieved that, even though it was two-and-a-half hours of tryhard nonsense.
The songs were nice, however. Though Katrina Kaif, in her "Zara zara hug me kiss me etc" song, looked more comical than sensuous.

All in all, it was a nice day. But it didn't feel like Holi.

Inferiority Complex

Ever heard the word "tnash"? From the poem "Tnash Goru" in Abol Tabol (for the uninitiated, "Abol Tabol" is a legendary book of Bengali nonsensical poems by Sukumar Ray. If you are a Bengali, and haven't read it, then I believe that you deserve to die.)? A couple of days back, I crossed paths with this delightful specimen whose Tnash Quotient would probably measure a perfect ten on a tnash equivalent of the Richter Scale. He was the cousin of a friend whose place I was over at.
The poor child, no more than about 16 years of age, looked a little forlorn, for whatever reason. The kind-hearted, compassionate person that I am (my modesty, on the other hand, would probably measure about one on a humility equivalent of the Richter Scale, no?), I decided to try and converse with him. His cousin (my friend) seemed to consider talking to him rather distasteful, so I undertook this noble task.
The first thing I noticed was his "American" accent.
ME : Tor naam ki?
HIM : "---------" (his name, pronounced with an American twang, of the rather irritating variety)
ME : Have you lived in Calcutta all your life?
HIM : Yeah. Borrrn (you know the way Americans roll their "r"s?) and braadup ('brought up') herrre.

(Okay, so that rules out a possible acquisition of the American accent due to a stay in the US of A.)

ME : Ki korchhish tui akhon? School? You'd probably be in Class 9 or 10 now, if I'm not mistaken?
HIM : Yeah, I'm in the 9th grade. ICSE comin' up next yearrr. Dude, the syllabus is, like, killing, man. I dunno how I'm gonna manage.
ME : Haha don't worry, ICSE's actually a cakewalk. Toder syllabus ta change kore gechhe? As in, do you still have "Bolai", "Daini", "Mohesh" etc in the syllabus?
HIM : Which syllabus?
ME : The Bengali syllabus. You do have Bengali as your second language, don't you? Or do you have Hindi?
HIM : Nah I have (with a semi-disgusted look on his face) Bong.
ME : .......so? Has the syllabus changed?
HIM (flippantly) : I dunno man, I don't read Bong.
ME (ever so slightly incensed) :Um, okay. But considering the fact that you have to pass in Bengali in order to pass your ICSE, you must be havin a slight idea about what you guys have in your syllabus?
HIM (rather proudly) : Haha I haven't yet touched mah Bong text books. Waste of time, if ya ask me. Why'd anyone wanna read or study some redundant piece of literature written by...whatshisname...Tagore?

(I SHIT YOU NOT. This is how the little piece of toxic waste was talking).

ME : Um...I don't know about "anyone", but maybe YOU'D want to, considering the fact that it IS, indeed, your mother language?
HIM : Whatever man. (Very proudly) We hardly speak Bong at home either.
ME : So what DO you speak? Swahili?
HIM (confused) : Wha?

At this point of this rather infuriating conversation, I caught my friend's eye, and she gave me a knowing smile, as if to say "Can't say I didn't warn you". And suddenly, most of my mortification at that little pipsqueak gave way to uncontrollable mirth, and my friend and I burst out laughing in his rather bewildered face. Thankfully, he left soon after, and my friend and I had a gala time mimicking him and dissolving into fits of laughter occasionally.

When I think about it, its so ironical.
On one hand, you have people like Jean Stevens (British acquaintance of mine, met him through Rohit), who, inspite of being from the supposedly "superior" stock that people with colonial hangovers try their level best to copy (Tnash Kid being a case in point), has come to Calcutta to, yes indeed, learn Bengali.
And on the other hand, you have about a gazillion Bengalis (others too...I stick to Bong coz I am one), who are ashamed to be so, and think its "oh-so-khool" to diss their language, their heritage, and everything connected to it, in favour of American accents and the like.

Most of the doctors who have treated me for various things throughout the course of my life have been Gujaratis. Dr. Madeka, Dr. Doshi, etc etc etc, you get the drift.
And all of them speak impeccable Bengali =) Hell, even the Sardar family my Dad is friendly with speak to him in fluent Bong!
So my point is...if they can, when its not even their language, then why can't you, especially if you ARE a Bengali?
I'll dispense with the usual disclaimer that say that "don't get me wrong, I am not anti-American or anti-anything" because that goes without saying. Besides all those who know me well, know what I'm about. I'm not ranting against anything that is non-Bong. In fact, truth be told, the glaring faults of Bengalis are a favourite topic of discussion with me anytime =) No, this post isn't about Bengalis and/or Americans.

Its about Bengalis who are ashamed of being Bengali. Its about Bengalis who can't speak in their own language properly.

Which is just not cool.

And unfortunately, there are way too many of them these days.

I'm sorry if this post sounds too moralistic. But, I stick by it. =)