The State of Affairs and An Idle Mind

I am a middle class girl from Calcutta (yes, I prefer the old name simply for phonetic reasons!). I grew up in a quiet suburb and my immediate family had very little to do with politics, except for the regular adda sessions since, quintessential to Bengal, everybody had an opinion and chose to voice it. My exposure to world affairs and politics has also been equally minimal, and strictly restricted to the print media. Of course, having been educated through the convent school system, a fair share of my growing up years were spent in debates and discussions about the political scene, of both the state and the country. However, I did not ever have an opportunity to actually visualise what could be, in comparison to what is. This can be attributed to my lack of interest, not for the problems, but for the absolute disdain I had developed over the years against the constant bickering and mudslinging that is so very much a part and parcel of the Indian political system.

Although I had chosen to vehemently ignore politics during my formative years (except, maybe for the occasional discussions I had with my grandfather), I guess staying in the national capital means you end up breathing the air and finally, it has caught on to me too. I distinctly remember my first political stance was a candle light vigil in Gandhinagar, to support the Lok Pal bill and the anti-corruption movement, which was not politically motivated but was merely to show solidarity for the ideals and principles involved. However, the frenzy and fire around the recently concluded Delhi legislative assembly elections ensured that I became more conscious. And it has indeed been an awakening of sorts.

I have, for as long as I remember, known I would not make Calcutta my city of choice once I was independent. When asked by strangers, I would cite the lack of opportunities there, as the biggest impediment. However, having lived in a state which is considered as conservative as Gujarat, and the past 6 months of living the Dilli way of life makes me question the rationale- why was I, as a kid or an adolescent, so keen to leave behind my home and family? I realised this was not simply because of my ambition, but also because Calcutta is still 20 years behind India. It is sadly no more what Calcutta thinks, that India does. The people of Bengal simply accept what is happening around them, and to them, instead of questioning and demanding an explanation. The “hochhe hobe- cholchhe cholbe” way of life, that is so very inherent in each Bengali babu or boudi you meet on the streets.

I have lived in Calcutta during the CPM reign, and our dear Ms. Banerjee was the loudest opposition in the whole country. Yes, we were stagnating and decadent, and an onerous embarrassment, basking in our glorified past. I have lived in Calcutta through the Singur-Nandigram uprising, and have visited Lalgarh in the midst of the agitation. Those were wrongs, and along with most of the population, I believed we needed a change from the red. I did not expect miracles from Ms. Mamta Banerjee’s government- however, I did expect at least some amount of regulation and attempt at addressing the sorry state of affairs. I guess, like most Bengalis, I expected too much. Not that I had much faith in her line of eccentric politics and purely populist exhibitions of outrage, but unfortunately, even today, she still fashions herself as the leader of the opposition, not of the state.

Sometimes, I feel this desperate urge to shout to these politicians- just stop talking. Listen, hear the winds, feel the change. While the entire nation mourned the death of Nirbhaya and tightened the laws to protect women, Ms. Banerjee continues to play politics and instead of pulling up the officials responsible for seizing the body of the 16 year old rape victim, she cries ‘conspiracy theory’. In the capacity of a mere citizen, I wish I could tell her- no one is out to get you, it’s only your shabby work that may lead you to your downfall. We expect her to be outraged not only because she is the chief minister, but because she is also a woman, who claimed to have been at the receiving end of similar atrocities. Is it really too much to ask, that for once, these political leaders put aside their selfish political aspirations and concentrate on remedying the situation? I wish I could ask her to stop the screaming and the mudslinging and do some real work, for the real people. I wish I could exercise my freedom of speech to tell her to use the power that she now has and justify her lack of action in the face of the increasingly frequent questions raised regarding the safety of women in Calcutta. 

I guess this pathetic state of affairs is only going to worsen before Bengal rises to a new revolution, and stops acting indifferent to every aspect of political life. I hope for a change, soon, with a balanced head to lead Bengal to the developed era. Maybe I do live in a bubble, after all.

[Edit - After the recent flyover crash in the city and Ms. Banerjee's first reaction being to play the blame game, while a hundred people were trapped underneath the flyover, I honestly believe it is time that this utopian and unproven wave of 'poriborton' give way to a real sense of responsibility and goodwill. While I do not have any specific political inclinations, I believe today, in this transient moment, we are at the threshold of a nascent revolution, that will free Bengal of the biggest ills that have diseased us since India won its independence. In light of the ongoing elections in the state, it is important that we make sure to elect a leader who can lead from the front, and not falter or nurse a constantly bruised ego. Vote sensibly, Bengal. The world is watching you, and judging you.]

Retracing Baby Steps to Sanity.. :)

Little Sparks of Madness

 No, I didn't colour my hair blue because I was bored. Don't freak out Mom, I only got a tattoo. 

Not that there's a hard and fast rule against getting a tattoo when you're bored, but as a matter of opinion, if you want something permanent, go read a little so you have the best option inked permanently. Spontaneity could possibly make you go through several laser removal sessions!

Coming back to this post, I've wanted a tattoo for as long as I can remember- even before I saw one in real life. Yes, of course I was scared of the pain, and unfathomably nervous about something I wanted so badly. So there was never a good time or a design that I really liked, or anything I truly wanted to carry on for my entire life. I mulled through designs, poured over posts, nudged my friends about their tattoo ideas and generally drew up a whole zero every which way I looked. Finally I googled "LIFE" and waited for the search results. It was my last shot, and I was almost resigned to my fate. Yet, the moment I came across this  design and read further, I knew I wanted the ancient angelic Zibu Script.

The symbol I chose expresses the desire to choose life. Yes, unfortunately I have heard too many renditions of "choos lo life ko", the pun on the 'choose versus choos' (in Hindi) quickly losing its originality.
However, the basic premise of the symbol is in its symmetry, that syncs into the monotone and eggs you on to thirst for more. A constant reminder- to breathe, to feel. The core belies the desire to open yourself up to new experiences, to inhale in the astounding beauty of survival. To let yourself soak in the spirit, to attune yourself to a higher philosophy- that of Life Itself. 

Your choices make you the person you are, and today, I make the choice to free myself, and to live every second, every moment, and the million sighs in every breath.  

I dedicate this tattoo to my Dadu, and my Dad- both of them inspired me in vastly different ways and yet left a long lasting impression which has today morphed into an indelible symbol that shall inspire me every day for the rest of my life.

A Note to Sing :)

Not every wrong can be righted, not every turn cross checked before bending the curve. But those who have brothers know that safe haven that you rush back into at the slightest brewing of a storm.

For a long time (seems like forever to the mind's eye, really!), I have had this rock with me, urging me on and yet reassuring me when things fell awry. My baby blanket, my securest spot to crawl back into each time I took a wrong turn (and boy, haven't I had a few of those!) and my warmest hug, much like a big strong teddy (I'm a girl, what else do you expect? :P). A bright smile, a quick frown or as much as a simple "Munu." and my brain seems hardwired to receive all the signals, attuned to that of this wonderful person I know to be my brother.

This note has been a long while coming, but there probably aren't enough words yet that I can even begin to ascribe, to explain what you are to me, Ppd.

But for what I have said and all that I probably couldn't put into words, a huge THANK YOU is in order. Blinded as I am, I will only write to make it emblazoned- You really are the best, and you'll always be for me. :) :)

It is a nice feeling, to know that while you're still growing up, your childhood is right there, waiting with open arms to take you back to the cocoon. Its even better to know that someone knows you so well, and so true, that he'll get you your favourite gifts (books and chocolate :D) though you are lost in a mall with discount signs everywhere! But the best part is, its nice to know that how ever much you disagree, fight or don't talk, there's no walking away, just 'cause you simply have to make up and hug it out. Yes, that might mean that you'll speak your mind all the time, but its also to keep one relationship in life as honest as it gets. :)

It simply doesn't get any more real than this.

So, to my favourite person in the whole wide world: I love you Ppd, and I have no clue how I would even get through a single day without you.

A brother is indeed like the best friend who never ever gives up on you, even when you have given up.!

A Leaf On A Rainy Day!

Awakening to the pit-a-pat of the rains, I found myself staring out at a grey sliver of day light. The clock on the table read ten minutes to seven.. I convinced myself that I must be dreaming, and went back to sleep, hypnotized by the increasingly frequent pitter patter on the window pane. The weather outside had not much changed when the alarm went off at 7.45am. It was still greyish, and wet as hell. That in Gandhinagar? Huh, this time I definitely wasn’t dreaming!

Taazo and I went about at our usual morning space and were nearly ready at 8.30, when we heard the fantastic news—classes postponed by an hour, due to rains! That in itself was some bliss, but the best part was yet to come. Having lazed around an extra hour in the morning, which is pretty much a novelty, we were at college, in time, of course, for the yucky breakfast and resigned to another day full of dreadfully boring lectures.

By 10.15, things started to stir up, what with some more drizzling and a power cut. The accompanying demands of suffocation in the heat (just an excuse, bless those wonderful souls!), Anju’s claim of the writing on the whiteboard being unreadable, while sitting right on the second bench (she almost got caught, though) and much chaos and desk banging later, we had an official holiday declaration! Hurray!!! It’s a rainy day!!! :)

And just as we were about to leave college, the power came right back on! “Bhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagooooooooo” came the shout and the rush to leave the academic block only increased!

But, however much we enjoy having an off day, that too an unexpected one.. What do you do on such a day in Gandhinagar? The place has got cows and trees, both way too inanimate to be entertaining, after a point of time.

We were in the mood for some freaking out time, so Infocity seemed the only likely option. Dumping bags and books, Saga, Roms, Reema and me boarded the auto for Sector 16. We sang tacky songs from K-serials, even exciting the auto wale bhaiya enough that he whooshed right into a huge pool of rainwater, drenching Reema with the elaborate splash! By the time we reached Infocity, we were on an adrenaline high! Adding Chocolate Fantasy to the menu at the CCD there only incensed it further, till we were deeply engrossed into animated discussions on various topics, talking sixteen to dozen! Imminent bankruptcy was a threat.. But Daawat came to the rescue, with a full fledged meal for four at just 175 bucks! Perfect college life!

Asking strangers to take pictures, sitting for two hours on the staircase outside CCD, posing with trees and the Passion bike belonging to God-knows-who and trudging back to hostel 6 hours later, broke and penniless and grinning silly, its been some day!

But the high point of the day has to be the Solar Eclipse at CCD, or was it the purple interior décor of the auto back from Infocity? The choices will vary, but with the right company, I had just the sort of day I thought college life was all about!

Thanks Roms, Saga and Reema. Love you guys! :)

The Sands of Time..

“I’m not a girl

Not yet a woman..

All I need is time,

A moment that is mine”
----Britney Spears

Time.
It is strange how it becomes our master. And we seem to accept its existence in our life without much ado.
Last night I was reading the book “A Place Called Freedom” for the umpteenth time (there…that word again!!) and it suddenly dawned on me that the protagonists who were in search of freedom do succeed in their quest but even they have to bow down to the eternal servitude of this non spatial continuum thus named!! Fact is indeed stranger than fiction. In spite of the author’s tryst 2 portray that freedom is achievable, the ending tells a different story. There is no “happily ever after”… Time makes sure it has a say!!!!
So is no one free?? Are we all in a perpetual race against time to finally submit ourselves to that devious entity? Is nothing blessed and free enough to simply flee?? I wonder how we call ourselves liberated…if in reality we are eternally under the bondage of time!! Is it emancipation to sit with your textbook during the mid-summer afternoons and learn how the Kharia tribe got married even if all you wish to do is sit by the window and paint the sky blue? Is it freedom to wake up @ sharp 5.30 on bitterly cold winter mornings so that you are not even a minute late for school in which event you’ll be sent back home?? Sometimes I really wish I was disentangled from the coils of Time.
Well.. I guess I complained of my daily school-going routine a bit too much, yearned far more than was necessary for that fabled “me-time”.. so that now I’m free to spend afternoons wishing I could paint the sky blue (which actually is quite a definite shade of blue right now..it being winter and all) and free enough to wake up whenever I feel like..err, almost! Because you see, while I was busy complaining that I had too much to do and too lil’ time, Time kept slipping away…the sand depleting slowly but surely in the Hour Glass of the 1st chapter of my life, so that when I finally looked up long enough to see, all I saw was Time that had flown away..yet again, leaving in its wake only flashes and snippets of friends, school and the life I had unknowingly grown to know and love. And now, since I want it all back, since I wish to revisit good ol’ school life and don’t want to let go..Time will not adhere to my plea. It’ll keep flying, taking me farther and farther away till all I’m left with is beautiful memories of those glorious seasons spend under the Sun.
But then, Time has also given me those sunny days, those beautiful hours and moments replete with craziness, fun, songs & dances, shared dreams, stupid pranks, tears and laughter in the company of friends…It has stood faithfully by my side, always giving me the chance to embrace the present…letting me admire the blooming flower, the bumble-bee, the floating clouds and the morning dew. O sweet Life!
My love-hate relation with Time continues at this very second..even as I write this, I can hear the clock tick, hear my mum’s footsteps as she comes up to check on me & chide me for “wasting TIME instead of studying for the upcoming pre-boards”.. sometimes the love is more, sometimes the hate…but Time will ne'er agree to being ignored, will it?

Unbreakable Us!

Your smile was my smile
Your sorrow my pain;
Together we promised to be
Inseparable like the blind and his cane.
Together we wished to paint
The sky, the sun, the meadows..
Together we promised to fight
The blues and the shadows.

The years passed by
The journey unending..
At every turn I found you,
Beside me, silently defending.
You said what we share is beyond words
And I held it dearly true..
O my best friend!
Why do I now have to do without you?

They told me people change..
Yet I did not believe so
For I had full faith
That friends will be friends and foe, foe.
I still don't know when
The light breeze turned to storm;
It took away my dearest friend
And thrust upon me life's newest form.

It wrecked our promise
To face the hail and enjoy the sunshine..
It left me with only memories
"Of too much love and too much wine".
The memories will be cherished;
It is the loneliness I fear,
The constant stab of not knowing
Why you shed that silent tear..

How I hate to miss you
How I hate to cry!
But Time's call will have to be answered
Though all I'll say is a silent Goodbye.
May you have Life's best,
Wish your life is a rainbow hue..
And everytime the horizon darkens
Remember I'm always there for you!


This is dedicated to my best friends.. just for being the people they are and all that they are to me!

I open at the close......

"Of course it is happening inside your head, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?" Harry is told in the final installment of the Harry Potter series… n for a magic-crazy Muggle like myself, the lines describe the entire series and its significance for me! Having read, re-read and read again all of the previous six books, I was waiting with delirious anticipation for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows to release and let me get aboard the Hogwarts Express one last time… The questions uppermost on my mind were—
1) Will Harry survive?
2) When I finish reading the book, will I be disappointed??
Thankfully, Harry does survive…coming back from the jaws of death to destroy his nemesis in a glorious battle at Hogwarts. And I don’t think anyone can be disappointed after reading The Deathly Hallows… even though the epilogue seemed a bit too neat and predictable :)
The book is haunted by the themes of love and death, and has the most action of all the books in the series. Rowling unleashes Voldemort right from the beginning with an exhilarating getaway from the Dursley residence to a disastrous end to Bill and Fleur’s wedding and a nerve-wracking escape from Gringotts Bank on the back of an one-eyed dragon after a daring robbery!!
In the 1st book, immortality was represented by the Philosopher’s Stone and here again there comes a moment when Harry can become the master of death, coming in possession of the Deathly Hallows---the unbeatable Elder Wand, the elusive Resurrection Stone and the impenetrable Invisibility Cloak. It is a major test for our hero…and sets a sombre mood. But he chooses to obey Dumbledore’s instructions, inspite of some not-so-favourable insights into his previous Headmaster’s past, and keeps up his hunt for the Horcruxes, thus holding true to the message throughout the series, and particularly the last book, that chasing immortality will lead to your demise and that even the seemingly worthiest of contenders is destined to fail in this quest.
Without the familiar backdrop of Hogwarts, the tale still maintains an unmistakable tone that marks all of Rowling's volumes, though with decidedly less humor (other than Potterwatch which was hilarious!) than usually found, an indication of the darker mood. As Ron, Hermione and Harry battle hunger and persecution in their agonizing quest to defeat Voldemort, several deaths, injustices and beatings along the way serve as constant reminders of why Harry must defeat He Who Must Not Be Named. Hermione’s tortured screams under the Cruciatus curse and Dobby’s death at the Malfoy Manor serve as catalysts when the trail for the Horcruxes seemed to have gone cold. A major personal setback for Harry, in the event of his wand- a shield against Voldemort- snapping in two almost gave the impression that he’ll fail…there seemed to be no hope for the wizarding world!
In contrast, the reconciliation of several estranged characters, such as Kreacher, Percy Weasley, and Dudley Dursley, seemed to give a feeling of hope and rightness, even in the midst of battle. The "connections" in the novel were all delicately put together; not forced to connect. Rowling pieces her story together so meticulously it's flawless. What impressed me most about the story are not only the flawless plot lines, but also the loopholes… “It’s like an amazingly big jigsaw puzzle ... of which you’ll have no clear perception until you struggle to put everything into place and view it from a high vantage point, when the sheer beauty of the thing will stun you.” – writes Riaan Wolmarans. I agree, if not whole-heartedly, because I still have some questions regarding how Neville, in his darkest hour, is given Gryffindor’s sword by the Sorting Hat, since we have no idea how it magically ends up back in the hat after being stolen by the nasty goblin Griphook; and yes, I can’t deny having wanted a fiercer duel between Harry and Voldemort instead of the single incantation that was uttered! !
Admittedly, I sobbed my way through much of the book, but I find myself most saddened by the life story of Severus Snape (‘cause like Harry, I had hated him from the very 1st book and now I regret it) as well as the deaths of Hedwig, Fred Weasley (one of my all time favourite characters), Tonks and Lupin. I was sobered by Albus Dumbledore's life, too, but in many ways, Dumbledore might have been happier, if only he'd allowed himself to be. As he himself had once said “It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are." However, the book has some of the best scenes of the series too, and a personal favourite is the one where an enraged Mrs. Weasley duels and kills Bellatrix Lestrange.
Quite a few of the much discussed and debated theories have come true: the most important being Harry is the seventh Horcrux. In the final chapters, when the readers are certain Harry is about to die, Rowling finds a way to bring the bespectacled de facto leader of the wizarding world back to life, without making it completely unbelievable, thereby proving that there is honest hope for all. Which is what I believe is the message intended all along: Despite evil in the world, there will always be hope at the next turn.

All through, I was mesmerized by the magical world and once exposed to the both the beautiful and ugly facets of human life, I could identify with them instantly. The emotions experienced by the trio due to their vulnerable isolation, the uncertainty of what lay ahead—as a Muggle about to come of age, I’m facing almost the same things, even if not on such a magnanimous scale. It goes without saying that HP7 is superb in so many countless ways that it is almost mind-boggling; the storyline is exquisitely fluid, the suspense and action are constant and utterly satisfying, the emotional content is multidimensional and personable, and the character development and interaction is simply incredible. I, and probably millions of other fans, leave Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the whole wizarding world with a heart-wrenching bittersweet feeling.

"All was well," as Rowling says, but we shall keep going back to draw strength and inspiration... :)