Of Times That Rush Past ...

One does not realise much of their attachment to their hometown until they have to move out of it. It even seems cruel at times,to be pushed out of the comfort of your home. For a true Bengali, true home is where you have the most peaceful and most satisfying pooping experience.( Yes, ‘Piku’ portrayed it most aptly.)

 Be it for your education or your job, you usually have to make a very sudden departure and even before the feeling begins to sink in , the train wheels start rolling.

The last moments before leaving are particularly difficult. The key to accomplish a tear-free and undramatic goodbye without creating much scene is to shorten the duration of hugs and putting on an XL smile. Keep poor jokes handy because this is one time when people will actually laugh a lot at them, and when they do so, you know that the slightly loud laughter is to camouflage the tears that are threatening to well up and the throat that is almost choked.

You look at your father, but you make sure that you do not look too long and you see him make himself busy with counting luggage for the zillionth time, taxi and tickets.It is then that you know how their battle is probably ten thousand times more difficult than yours. When he lectures you on professionalism and how when duty calls family life does not matter, you listen to him and nod, all the while thinking to yourself of all the times he answered your calls in the middle of work.

The secret is, the tougher the person appears to be, the bigger he talks – the greater battle he is fighting within. They are so very proud of you, so worried and overwhelmed with so many indecipherable emotions.  Though they try their best to hide it, in their eyes you see the battle they are fighting- between holding on and letting go.

Calcutta is a soulful city. It is a trap for the unsuspecting. Just when you think you are not enchanted, or have managed to escape its web of “maya”, it entraps you. It is in times like these that you think of all the Bengali black magic jokes that your non-Calcutta friends crack and you realise the probable iota of truth in them.

The city is cruel. The Railway Station is positioned in such a way that you have to travel right through the heart of the city to leave it. It is like the invisible arrow which seems to go right through your heart at around this time. The taxi ride is always the most brutally beautiful . When you look out of the window it is like a live trailer that plays out – Victoria, Maidan, Dalhousie, Eden and to seal it all, a final blow of the heart wrenching passing over the Howrah Bridge. This time you look out of the window but before your father cries out about how you will catch a cold from the Ganga’s riverside winds, something manages to get into your eye and you have to take out your glasses and rub your eyes a little.

Oh, dramatic stunts that humans perform!

For one who loves to travel, the Railway Station is a shrine of pure joy. While leaving home, among so many things even this changes. Another thing that changes is New Year.You no more want it to arrive and despite yourself you almost pray for a 32^nd December.

Anurupa. 27.12.15.

Other Blogs that I used to maintain ...

These are links to my old blogs. I started blogging in 2011, roughly. Sadly, it has been majorly inconsistent. I had three blogs which concentrated on three kinds of things.

1. A lady with a knack   -   You may view the blog by clicking here

 Here, I mostly published Fiction - compositions, the length of short stories.


2. Sadda Haq   -   To view the blog click here

It mostly spoke about the socio-political issues I felt strongly about.


3. Bric-a-brac   - To view the blog click here

This was more of a rag-tag blog. A lot of random things under the head of bric-a-brac.


With time, I understood the impracticality of having three blogs. This is one blog where I plan on being more consistent and less haphazard irrespective of readership or lack of it. :)

I hope you enjoy my writings. I would love to know your thoughts regarding the same and criticisms, if any, are more than welcome.

#ManyMiniThoughts4

We are all like musical notes. Together there is harmony. These notes interact. While some strike a cord, others strike a discord. Like old songs, memories of people in our lives are half- remembered, half-forgotten and the humming in the middle that we do is our own interpretation- as far as we can remember it.

Music, in general, provides much joy to me as it does to the rest of the planet. Someone had rightly observed how music is truth. It may seem ugly to some, pretty to others and yet others might even act indifferent to it. But just like truth, music prevails, Music can soothe; And in a strange way so does truth. Of course it pricks a little at first and then it soothes - once we have accepted the hurt.

#ManyMiniThoughts3

They say,tea brings clarity. As you take one sip of the hot beverage,a haze covers your

spectacles and then it slowly clears up giving way to perspective.

#ManyMiniThoughts2

Human emotions fascinate me. I am engaged in a constant endeavour to keep myself from getting entangled in the labyrinthe of human emotions, preferring to observe it from a distance. But it is like trying to become an expert at swimming without ever getting into the water.

#ManyMiniThoughts1

The unexplored land - beyond what you can see from here, looks hungrily at you. It can be your your kingdom of dreams, it seems to whisper.
So, as trivial questions, like creepers, shackle your feet and tug at them, let go and plunge into what eyes can't see.


Anurupa.

One night in 2014.

Of shoe bites and new beginnings

We go to the shoe store and buy the pair we love best. We try them out, walk around in them, check it in the mirror and then we buy it. Satisfied that this is what we want.  So, my first step into a new world which has lots of promises, started with a shoe bite, from a shoe carefully bought. The new shoes cut into your skin at first. One can throw the pair away and never wear it again or one can find a way to work around it. 

Anurupa.

July, 2015.