Crush-ed

'He looked and smiled at me,

Through those dark dark glasses'-

It set my heart in frenzy,

Creating an unprecedented ruckus.

I gasped for breath

I looked at length

Gathered all my strength

Took a road so bent

Forgot about the money lent

Was about to faint

When found a merry friend

Rushed to a restaurant

Over a drink and croissant,

Discussed him,feeling jubilant,

Only to discover and repent-

As he was her present boyfriend!

So ends a tale of time misspent.

The tale of the perky li'l ghost

There once lived a perky li'l ghost

In the distant old town of Bumper Post.

Its arms were huge and lanky,

It appeared like a floating hanky!

It could pass through window sills,

It had no clear eyes and nostrils.

Its mischievous ways were known to all,

It even climbed over the dams and walls.

It preferred to call  itself their protector,

Much to the annoyance of the town's governor.

The ghost scared the villagers by pulling old tricks

It  took delight in their yells when he flew some bricks!

The villagers were perplexed

By the ghost's jaunty manner,

They longed to be liberated

But knew none who could the task shoulder.

Once arrived a masked lad

In a beautiful shiny armour,

He promised to free the land

Of the ghost's tiring torture.

He cast a magic defensive spell

Protecting the town from the lurking evil,

He waited patiently for the ghost to come

And play its silly tricks on the people.

The ghost did arrive when the clock struck one

But was taken aback to see no one!

Not a soul crawling on the ground,

Not a breath, not a sound.

The deafening silence being unbearable,

It descended to survey the town.

The lad appeared from nowhere,

And chained it in his charms,

The ghost tried to free its arms

And flee at the given chance.

But then, it heard the villagers guffaw

And jeer, calling the ghost a 'coward',

The sprite however shed a bucket full of tears

Speaking in a voice that echoed in one's ears:

"I am lonely, the reason why I scare,

But you're cruel, by Jove I swear!

Not a hair have I harmed during my stay

But you led by a stranger drive me away.

I was your protector all this while,

Now begone I am, here's my goodbye."

The sprite swallowed by flames vanished in thin air,

"Hurrah!", cried the people, congratulating the stranger.

But he stood unmoved by the jollity of the crowd,

He swiftly pulled off his mask, and called out:

"Bow before your saviour, the townsmen of Bumper Post,

Before I came here, you were all so lost.

But now I pledge to defend you at all cost,

My reign will be glorious indeed, I do not boast."

The humble folk looked here and there and lay crestfallen

For they had been embezzled

Of their freedom and independence.

Now, how they longed for the perky li'l ghost to return

But returned he never, to the people's disappointment.

A song of freedom

The 'second sex' lies ensconced in her little hood of shame,

"Free her", "Redeem her" of her inglorious past-

But all you do is try and tame

And measure the hemlines of her skirt to blame

And reason the leering meted out to her-alas!

She is a wild beast, ferocious in her fury,

Weak in her vulnerability;

So you laboriously get a law passed

On the pretext that women need protection

From the unruly mass!

The promises of justice

Slowly withers, perishes with time,

The shallow slogans voiced by hypocrites

Unfurls the farce, mocking all at once.

The shadows of lies doesn't fail to pass

By the lips of politicians pouting words of hope,

In spite of all pamphlets and journals published

Cruelty on women is every minute unleashed

With an air of defiance in regions remote.

Can you feel the air reeking

With the blood of innocent women?

Can you feel the torture and the pain

Of who create life and are worshiped even?

What you fail to comprehend is-

We are tired of all your hypothesis.

We don't need laws to protect our progeny,

We don't need your mute words of sympathy-

We cry out for our rights as individuals,

We demand you to be respectful-

Don't stifle us with your nonsense!

We aren't delicate or fragile,

Our education treats us equals-

We yearn to ring the bell for change

And heal the world, perverse and deranged,

Full of  lust and anger, that drives away sanity.

We here ring the bell,singing the song of humanity...

Can you feel the turn

Of the Wheels of Fortune?

Bringing in winds of transformation..

A hope of a generation's resurrection...

Beseeching mankind to practice Peace

Enabling womenfolk to live at ease.

P.S. This blog was in response to the contest -"Ring the Bell for IndiChange"

www.bellbajao.org

Fly away o little bird

Fly away o little bird,

Today isn't the day to spread cheer.

Today I mourn the dear departed,

Who has left this world forever.

Fly away o little bird

To the distant meadow green.

While I rest my melancholy head;

Lost in his thoughts, I turn serene.

His life swims swiftly by my eyes,

My vision misted by a drizzle.

All I remember is his wrinkly smile

On a visage undisturbed by trouble.

Fly away o little bird

To a land where you can come by his spirit,

And feel his greatness, that lies unparalleled

In the mortal world and all beyond it.

His greatness lies not only in his works,

(Far in number, more than you can count)

With undying passion,he served his purpose,

An epitome of sincerity and virtues manifold.

Awe-inspiring was his heart, so brave and so bold-

Unafraid to break free of the domineering mould,

And usher in the new, which so very few

Could dare to reconstruct, what they believed was true,

And be daring enough, to step outside the existing boundary...

O little bird, now you do realize why I feel so very unhappy...

Fly to me now o little bird,

His body of flesh you see at last,

Pay your respect to the most beloved,

His memories will live on... deep in our hearts.

A tale of everlasting friendship

Life will always have its ups and downs. At times you will face more downs than ups. That can be really disappointing, frustrating at times. When the wheels of fortune aren't in your favour, we sincerely desire a friend, a companion who'll be by our side, not get over critical of the adverse circumstances but reaffirm that dimming faith in ourselves. But frankly, in these tough times, when kin is against kin and is grabbing all spots to get that extra edge, all that surrounds us are the fair-weather friends, hooded in masks of empathy for our loss, who in reality revel in their hearts when we burn up in despair. Love is a selfless and an unconditional emotion. However with skyrocketing progress in technology the above mentioned fact is accompanied by an innocent asterisk mark (which later reveals that certain conditions do apply). And we hate conditions controlling our lives our happiness and sorrow. We were meant to be free, breathe in the air of compassion spread the word of harmony and be united in the face of all odds. Yet, when we hit the rock bottom, all that we stare into is a few pitiless faces, who mock and not console us in our grief.

In such moments of despair, when you're sitting all alone, crying a river, with optimism fading into oblivion, who is the solitary figure who is always by your side, through thick and thin? For me, it's my mother. She is my best friend, my guide, my saviour...my friend.

 I remember how my mother has been always strict with me since childhood. She was my confidante, alright, but a secret was always coupled by long lectures of wisdom. As I entered into my adolescence, I grew opinionated,and serious fights ensued.  My raging hormones rejected everything that my mother said and consequently labelled them as "old-school". My 'new' friends were my best friends then. I looked up to them. I adored them. They were cool, their ideas were "kick-ass" and rebellious and yes, I was all in a mood to break free and assert my independence. My mother in these times tried to shout her way to put me into my senses. She wept, she was disappointed and then finally,silence distanced us. Silence is bitter and cold. It kills the warmth and rots the cheer. Alas! I was too hot-headed to realize my folly, and I kept on believing my new friends. But soon came a day, when things were not so hunky dory. I had friends alright, but only on my "Contact" page on the latest gadgets I acquired. As we grow up, the number of calls diminishes.Why? Well, everybody gets going with their life's big plans. And all that people have time for is to either like your status (happy or sad)on a social networking site or just carry on a mechanical conversation,always beginning with the line, "Hey dude! Wazzup?". These may be the people congratulating you on your success and bad-mouthing you right at the same time. 

There came such a time in my life when after successfully completing my education, I was looking desperately for a job. Yet no interview calls came my way. Most of my friends were well-settled by then. They had their high paying jobs, were either married or engaged to be so, posting pretty pictures all around. While, I ran from pillar to post with my resume, I really didn't understand what I was doing wrong. I was smart and confident, with a good academic record. Gradually, I turned into a loner. For my friends did no good in pacifying my agony. " Arre yaar, relax. You'll definitely come around. Have a pizza. Pay me later." And then friends stopped calling. They didn't want to be friends with a free loader. But of course, they didn't want to be rude, so they just remained "busy" all the while.

On one such day, I received an unexpected call. A call from my mother. Now, it was not that she didn't call me up ever or anything, but she had stopped sermonizing as she did in childhood. As I received the call with a leaden heart, I did nothing but sob over the phone. I was so broken and my self esteem had shattered. Words really did not come to my aid. There was a hushed silence and my mother said, "Don't worry, I am coming." Well, 'coming' really wouldn't be that easy, as at that time I was in Kolkata, while my mom was in Bagdogra, which is a small place located in North Bengal. 'Coming' would definitely be an expensive flight ride. And I was not sure if the mom's 'once horrible daughter' really deserved that affectionate gesture. But I was too depressed to speak up, and 'come' she did. She was there to meet me the very next day. We had a great time together over films and good food. She helped me realize how significant all my accomplishments have been. She resuscitated my lost belief in my self, in all that I could do. She didn't mock me for once nor say 'I told you so'. All that she that day was help me find myself again. And that really was 'cool' and 'awesome'(as the teenagers would say).

Well don't we have that saying..."A friend in need is a friend indeed"? Well, that particular day the one to resurrect me from ashes was my mother. She has always been there- from changing my diapers to helping me with homework, from walking my way to school to motivating me when all hell breaks loose. I owe my happiness to her. I owe her my life, my identity, my being. And it is her presence  that made me realize that Friendship isn't about whom you have known the longest… It’s about who came, and never left your side… 

So, I have discovered my true friend in this life. Have you?

The Search

Looking up a wise line,
Coming up with none,
The wisdom around,
Lives with the stars and the sun.
People in masks-
Oh! look so fun,
When masks become faces,
Make a dash and run!
The knowledge of the world,
Sought by everyone,
But the key to simplicity
Camouflaged in a pun-
The irony of the universe-
We cease to be HUMAN.
Yet,looking up a wise line
Coming up with..20%...55%..78%...99% more than one.

Lady Brabourne and I

Lady Brabourne College. This has been my Mecca of leaning and unlearning many things in life. After completing my 12th standard, I longed for wings that could set me free, something which could give me a feel of liberty. I was desperate to come out of my sheltered life. While my friends chose the Delhi way, I saw the route of Kolkata before me. Well, I was still very scared of the enormity of the decision. To me Kolkata was a safe prospect as my kin would be at stone's throw. But I really didn't want my family to realize that I was scared too move out. Those were the days I weighed a massive 70kgs and was battling problems of my own-problems like low self-esteem, shaky confidence, Acne!!! And yes, the monumental decision... my stream of studies. I was undecided till the very last minute, as my heart longed for Political Science Hons. and a career in law (may be) but my mind desired English Hons. I really didn't know what to do. I didn't wish to disappoint my family or myself by choosing a subject which was not cut out for me. Still now I marvel at those people who are level-headed and great at making important decisions with a snap of the finger tip. I have been a confused person all throughout. With my last minute preparation, my unwillingness to eat veggies or binging on chocolates..I have been a poor decision maker. But then decision making indeed is a ten seconds affair. I chose English over Political Science and have been in love with the subject ever since.

I still remember my initial tryst with LBC. It was our second day in Kolkata, then an alen city. The taxi driver had taken us for a ride all around the city without having a clue where the college was. My mother got very upset and started yelling at the driver while my father got hold of another taxi. Finally, in Par Circus I saw the the name of the college which would change my life forever. There was a long queue in front of the gate. All of us wanted to get through its written exam. Nobody was sure what to prepare. The day of the exam, it started poring cats and dogs. The candidates were almost drenched while entering the college premises.The unpredictable weather had yet not prepared to carry an umbrella,always. While I scribbled lazily into my answer script, I was almost sure that I would not make the cut. But as luck would have it, I made it in the final list and never looked back ever since.

To be very frank, my grasp over the language was terrible when I began. Imagine the first class with ICD Ma'am (a living legend) was on Mimesis...!!! I couldn't even get the spelling correct in my notes.I was really scared and petrified of what lay in store for me. I was hard working and sincere but I failed to understand many things. As soon as I stepped into my first class, our professors treated us like pros and (God!) that was really embarrassing! I was not well read and bearing silent humiliation became quite the norm. However, I still remember the teacher who inspired me silently. Mrs. S.Ghosh. She was beautiful, pretty,smart...everything that I could never be. When I did fairly well in one of her tests, she was the sole professor to encourage me. And that really got me going. I was pleased with myself for a change and believed in the sheer possibility of the impossible. Even if I was never the topper, but I was never at the bottom either. And that was really comforting. Average rules! (to quote the tag-line of the American sit-com "The Middle") Finally, I really didn't do that badly in my final examination. I wound up getting a decent 60% which means securing a First Class in University of Calcutta, and was in fact a big deal. So, I patted myself on the back for not letting myself down after all.

Now,this was the academic side where the world was really not bright and cheerful. It was in fact painted in dull shades of grey and ash. However, socially I was on cloud nine. With an opportunity to enroll myself in Lady Brabourne College, came an added advantage of finding a place in Lady Brabourne College Hostel. This Hostel has been more than my second home. This was the place where I discovered myself, my friends and my future. The experience really added colours to my life. The colours dazzled initially but it started fading with time. Today,after almost 9 years, I can barely see them (literally and figuratively) but the spark and love that they  infused in my life,still remains. I  remember with distinct fondness, the first day in the dormitory. 10 girls from 10 different places, meant to share three important years of their life, together. Scary yet true. And the first evening was the evening of a power failure..a blackout which lasted for a couple of hours (symbolic??) In that blackout, all the girls who were terrified to open up to each other, perhaps realized the brilliant socializing skills of one girl from Orissa, Sonali Dey. She was the one who got everyone talking, sharing their frights,where a few also got a little sentimental while thinking about home-sweet-home. There was the sprightly Saika who could imitate people with ease, Barna and Anita, the nightingales of our dorm, Maria who was synonymous with attitude with a capital A, Sarmita who loved to switch on the lights even when she was fast asleep,Simanti, the most studious girl of our dorm (one who actually started studying from Day 1), Sangita ,the quiet sweet girl. The name of the 10th girl, I really don't remember, but she had long beautiful hair.

In the passage of three years, many things changed. In fact my equation with some people took a U-turn(for the worse). But the positive side was, I also came across girls with a heart of gold like Dwaita, a mad genius and Sangmita...a beautiful human being.  Being elected in the Hostel Union was a high point where I learnt that I had good leadership skills. I shouldered all kinds of responsibilities under the extraordinary guidance of our Hostel Superintendent, Sucheta ma'am. Everything was wonderful, till the time we had to bid each other adieu, and begin a new life outside the walls of our beloved hostel. How I miss the fight over tea table, the queue for Sunday breakfast which comprised only two pieces of bread and a banana/boiled egg (hence creating the difference between the vegetarian and the non vegetarians), the cat that occasionally licked our dinner plates, the dog(Lord Brabourne), the Saraswati Puja madrush, the triple movies day, the Holi bonanza....There can possibly be no end to this list. And yes, one can never forget to mention Chacha's dukaan and Bon Appetit who kept us from starving during the dark days.

I was never a brilliant student, as I have repeatedly said but keeping aside all my shortcomings, this college provided me the platform where I could explore deeper into myself and bring out the best. The teachers were very caring and considerate and took great pains to make us feel at home. Not a day goes by that I thank my stars for having been a part of LBC heritage. Yes, the professors were very strict and expected nothing short of perfection, but it did a lot of good to us in the long run.  The training helped us to adapt ourselves to the changing scenario and readily accept challenges. Today, I am sure that my professors have forgotten me but our laughter has still not died in its empty corridors. The canteens still buzz with our silent footsteps. The dormitories still revel in their midnight parties. Birthdays are still a big affair. After all, even with all the competition around the children within us refuses to die. Faces have changed but the hearts remain the same. The hostel may have expanded but the colours of joy keep the LBC spirit alive. Hail LBC! Today, after so many years when I look back at my college, all that I want to do is say a big Thank You to all my teachers who've made me what I am today. Without their constructive criticism and encouragement I would've been nowhere.  You're a part of me. You live inside me. My college. My love. My memories.