And who said everything must make sense?

There is strange comfort in drinking our favourite beverage from our favourite mug  every day. We set ourselves little routines or habits which we like to follow. Perhaps we try to find familiarity in an ever-changing world. There is variation even in the way we like our tea or coffee. I belong to the cadre of sticklers for particularity in my kind of variations. The newspaper we like to read, the toothpaste we use. Not surprisingly most of these that I have mentioned above relates to morning –  the waking hours, when the body and the mind are in the process of internalising that which is external.  

I have this tendency of getting attached to my surroundings. It is almost as if the inanimate things around me influence me, direct me towards a certain something. More often than not cryptic meanings of such and such things delude me. This is one of those. I can most certainly perceive a sense of direction even in baffling circumstances.

We, as human beings, are very prone to attachments. We get used to things. We simply adapt to changing circumstances and get used to it. We have our comfort zones and when we are forced out of the same despite our attachments to our comfort zones we instinctively take up the challenge and find for ourselves a new comfort zone – a new place to call home- to call our own. So, we move on – from dusk to dawn, from newspaper to e-newspaper, from one comfort-zone to another, from 2014 to 2015.

As we bid goodbye to 2014, let us thank it for all that it had to offer and hope 2015 will bring fresh promises as well as clear 2014’s logjam(both at the Parliament and those in our minds). Let us hope that the year we welcome now with open arms be so great so as to expand our embrace beyond what we think is possible.

Best.
Anurupa.

December 31, 2014

Second-wind from Mother Nature …

On a wet monsoon evening as this, when lovers love to be with their loved ones, I peeped out of the window and looked at those wild green rebellious patches who despite being a minority in the concrete jungle have somehow not got discouraged and kept up their fight for existence in bits and parts around the city of Kolkata.

  It was that afternoon when after battling with life for three days little Mahi gave up. Six years back, some 160 km away from where Mahi used to stay, at kurukshetra Prince who fell into a similarly uncapped bore well survived due to timely action. It was that heart-wrenching evening when I felt disgusted with the rotten circus that had been taking place in the country … over how terribly wrong things are … Indian Politics now only means the ruckus over the presidential elections, officers appointed for civil service do their duties by sitting on chairs at the site, to watch the live circus of the late initiated rescue operation of Mahi, the four year old child who represent every non-bureaucrat’s child who is unsafe in this country and we find the tax-payer’s money go down the drain to finally make its way into the politicians’ wallets ( or perhaps to their Swiss bank accounts) . Debates taking place at all large-scale and small-scale TV channels seem to be of little help. One of the prominent reporters, once during a debate said that he would like to “embarrass” the politicians…my friend, they are all beyond getting embarrassed.. the word shame feels embarrassed when it looks at them.

Civil service, sorry Indian Civil Service – the words themselves cause any teen or tween to frown, let alone thinking about it as a career option. Standing here when my country, your country, our country.. our Mother whom we salute on Republic days and Independence days only, calls for help, it will be put into an old age home in the wrinkled hands of weary senior citizens for its brightest and most privileged sons and daughters are busy turning millionaires away from her soil, are so busy that they have turned shameless enough to ask poor old Mother to work after retirement to bring up those unprivileged siblings( remember how every morning at school we say/said and in civics text books we read, All Indians are my brothers and sisters).

I was feeling absolutely frustrated with all of this and it had caused me to look out of the window to take in some fresh air when I received the second-wind from nature. I was filled with despair but now I understand that there’s always darkness just before dawn.

I just hope I can make it through the thick night,

 With my fast fading torch light …

  Anurupa.

June 24, 2012 

End-Sem Days (and nights)

"A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world". - Oscar Wilde.

Being an ardent believer in the above quote or rather being a self-confesssed hopeless indolent night owl, having embraced the quote as my mantra I took up the arduous task of completing my 1st semester university courses.
The preparation always starts with the struggle of moving my backside from the couch and pushing myself towards the study room. With sleepy eyes I reach for my phone - earphones plugged in - playlist - Motivation. The much needed factor. Having played the entire list , feeling motivated enough, I decide to plough through the impregnable fortress of reading material piled up dauntingly on my desk. Just then I hear the dinner call which my forever hungry gastronomical parts compel me to answer. So far my achievements for the day include- reading the newspaper, watching repeats of Big Bang Theory and listening to the Motivation playlist.

Dinner smoothly leads on to Dadagiri (Its Sourav Ganguly, people!) . I try to convince myself that the Googly riddles will activate my brain cells and help me study better. The guilt does not leave and neither do I from front of the TV set.

Around midnight as the world around me prepared to doze off, I arose - Sleeves rolled up, targets decided, to-do-list prepared. MISSION 1ST SEM. The plan seems fantastic!
Well, now. Time for some midnight snacks. The labour put in making that plan must not go unrewarded. Time to take a stroll around the sleeping household.

Its 1am already. Self-pep talk - Now I must get down to study.
But, not before googling How To Study When Under Time Crunch?

Having read a bunch of weird articles, turned maximum number of Google Search Result links purple, I decide to hit the books - studying comes much later.
I stare at my reading material with dyslexic eyes and thirty minutes later realise that it's not helping.I start reading it, marking it. Good going! I have finished reading one full handout. Yay me! Wait. There are five more left - err, from the same chapter.
#Realisation - This is why college kids miss school days. Sigh.

A look at the watch- 2:45am. -- Loo break. A short one, I promise myself.
Fifteen minutes later, I am back - ACDC playing Thunderstruck in my head.

The birds outside, who am I fooling, the crows outside have woken up and are doing what they do best - crowing. The crowing is interspersed with the occasional train horns from a station somewhere closeby. At one point, I romantically fancy that the minstrels of this dark sleepy hour have conspired to engage in a concert for me - the night watchman's whistle, the train, the crows and the ticking clock - (Yes, Pink Floyd, I know)

Romantic - or maybe lunatic. Whichever.

Its 4am already.Nevermind. Night is still young - party with the menacing handout of Andrew Heywood.An additional hour of drudgery with the sound effects still pouring music to my ears.The 5am azan, sounded from a mosque distant or close floats across . I close my eyes for a bit and stretch. After a 30 seconds debate in my head I opened the windows and disturbed two sleepy pigeons who flapped their wings and flew away. Romantic or lunatic? Whichever.
The cool December morning winds brush across my face. I like the chill. A strange energy. Sipping coffee while watching the neighbourhood wake up, the apparent peace only broken by a baby's shrill cries from a home nearby.
But maybe this is peace much adored where it is much better when broken by baby cries for food than cannon cries for human fodder.
Good Morning.