Wandering scribbler..

Dada Ami achi bhalo, boyesh ekhun 32 holo Tomar bodhae 103 holo. Onek kichui bolar chilo, onek kichui bolte baki Bari fire eshe dekhi, bari noy she ek shada hathi  Bari r ek bhag na barir dui bhag sheyal kukure nite chae tar shadh Bujhe ami paina dada taka mati na mati taka  Dada tumi jano bodhae barite ache ek notun dada  Tomar moto bhab thakleo tomar theke onek alada  Ei bari ashole kar bari?  amar dada r na notun dada r? Amar ma er na tomar ma er ? Kar bari eta bolo dada  Kon bhage te koto kata, koto bhag e ar hobe bata 

'All happy families are alike, but every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.' When Velma first read Anna Karenina this line remained stuck in her mind for a very long time. If one quote could describe how she felt about growing up this would be it. While discussing with her friends about their families she realized how starkly different her family was. Their mothers didn’t cry almost every night like her mother. Her childhood was lost in wiping cold tears sometimes her own, sometimes her mother's. And then she grew up and tried to hide the darkness of a lost childhood Adulting is hard, they said But not as hard as being a helpless and scared child.

I have almost stopped blogging.  It’s not that I have nothing to say, just that so much of effort goes into mulling over the whole thing. Laziness gets the better of me. For a very long time, one thought has been on my mind, but somehow I haven't yet put it into words. Why do we lose friends? I am a person who has a countable number of friends who I have loved dearly.  Friends, friendship are familiar words but sometimes I wonder if people understand the weight of these words enough to live the meaning of those words. In this day and age posting pictures of your circle and tagging each other in memes is a sign of great friendship. But what about being there for each other? Trusting each other to important facts and events of your life? What happened to being witness to their low moments and holding them up when they need it? In retrospect maybe friendship has a different meaning for different people. And maybe different people show their friendship in different ways....

I was 6 years old when I suddenly developed this habit of cracking silly jokes to make my classmates laugh. I loved to see them laugh, it would make me feel better as this was when my life revolved around personal tragedies of sorts.  A few months later my mother was informed about my habit of turning every situation into a joke and I watched as she cried her eyes out and created a ruckus about this as if it was a grave mistake.  After that day I gave up my defense mechanism.  I became a person who was always bruised by familial tragedies. Sometimes a lot more than anyone else in my family.

It is going to be two years that I moved to Calgary. This place has given me a new identity. A lot has changed in these two years. Things that will take a lifetime of catching up to do. I have my own place now, rented but my own. I have been responsible and irresponsible not in the same order though. I have held myself together in times of crisis and fallen apart at other times. These two years have seen the very best and the worst of me. I haven't written much during this time except for a letter which reached the recipient after 3 long months. The joy of posting a letter for the first time in many years felt wonderful.

We love and make promises of forever and after. We take risks and build a life together, brick by brick, blood sweat and tears. Years turn into decades. One summer afternoon, you come back home and realise that everything is the same but something isn't.  Love has slipped away without warning. But this was supposed to be forever,wasn't it? The home you built has become just 4 walls and a roof where you stay with a stranger. Was life supposed to end up like this? Where do you go when you've lost your home?

I got my passport on 25th August exactly 6 days before my scheduled date of travel to Canada. I had already started thinking of all possible scenarios like my VISA being refused and spending this year crying in bed. But when I received the study permit letter from the Canadian government, I was so relieved. The next few days went by in the blink of an eye. I bought two big suitcases and packed 23 years of my life inside them. Leaving home isn't easy when you are not yet prepared to be an adult.  The day before my departure the handle of my big American Tourister hardcase suitcase came off. I had to run to the mall which is about 26 kms from my home and get it repaired, I returned home around 8 pm. I couldn't sleep that night with excitement and stress thinking 'now what?'. My dad had rented an Ola cab which would take us from our house to the airport. While we were halfway near the airport when a burning smell started coming from the clutch of the car. I was just p...

Its been quite a long time that I wrote something for my blog. I have been procrastinating about this for some time and I finally decided to do write it out. I had been applying to some selected places to do my Masters since February of this year and unexpectedly things I received positive replies from a few world renowned places with an opportunity to be a Graduate student at some really good laboratories. I have chosen the offer from University of Calgary and just when I thought all the struggle was over I had to complete my VISA formalities. Now I think getting into the University was easier than this. I haven't received my VISA as yet and I am just about to lose my patience and panic. A lot of friends have been asking me "So how does it feel to leave your house and family and travel so far?" I don't really know how it feels. I haven't thought about it yet. The feeling has not yet seeped in. I just hope I get my VISA soon and no mishap happens. 

Your arms were like this safe cradle which I never really had. The one where I could dissolve all my shortcomings, failures, my worthlessness, all the pain and darkness in this heart. The feeling of being lost without a care in the world. You have to be so many people during the day so many idiotic roles to play, so many times you smile without feeling it. This makes up for all of it. The day weighs you down at so many levels but then the lightness of being in your arms with an initial aching tired heart which slowly calms and quietens down on being close to yours.

Behind different doors we lie And the days go by in the wink of an eye. I think of you sometimes , not often. And you think of me when you want a story different from your own. You pass the salt and I the papers. We lead separate lives yet every moment, every phase of life that we step into, we are drawn closer. You see my smile in unknown faces, I search your eyes among faceless crowds.  I tell different stories everyday to myself and people, some are true and the rest figments of imagination. But in all those stories I relentlessly speak of you.  The times the clock just betrayed  Of all the times we couldn't call it a day.

Kuch baat ho gayi hai shayad Itne toh hum bekhabar nahi Kuch kho sa gaya hai shayad itne toh hum adhure nahi.. Kuch ehsaas ghul gaya hai mere andar jaise chini ki mithas ho pani mei. Mithas hai ya kadwahat kya pata tum ko dekhkar mithas ban ati hai, aur tumhare khone ke darr se kadwahat ban lahu lahu mei ghul jati hai. Kehte hai mithas kuch zada ho jaye toh kadwahat ban jati hai kya pata mithas ho ya kadwahat hum toh bekhabar tumko apne andar ghol lete hai Jo bhi ho tum mithas ya kadwahat, har dafai nashe ki tarah tumhari talab si rehti hai Ek talab jine ki, aur ek pyaas ghut ghut pikar tum mei fana ho jane ki.

Of all the words I say to you and all the words I write, Not one is word enough to say what you mean to me, I make my bed with words at night and hope to wake up with the right lot of words or phrases.  My mind storms with all these words and I struggle to sleep at night. My heart just beats and pounds, my hands tremble as I dream. This the  recurrent dream of separation comes back and awakens me with lines of sweat on my forehead. I cover my face with my small hands and just listen to my beating heart. This voice speaks of all my past histories.  You wake up and ask me,  -What keeps you awake my love? -I can't find the right words. -What words? - I am writing you a letter for the time when we won't be together. -Pray why won't we be? -For when I die or disappear or vanish without a trace.  I said with my voice shaking. - Do you think I'll let you go away so easily.. And even if you "disappear" as you say you are going to. I won't need a letter to find yo...

On this particularly insignificant rainy afternoon I was talking to this friend about eyes when he remarked that my eyes speak of helplessness.  I didn't take the discussion further as my head kept spinning with the sudden weight of the word "helplessness".  I hate that word, just hate it.  But I see it too, eyes that are helpless without any hope of light. Did he just see the darkness in those eyes? Eyes  like the little child who saw too much too soon.  They speak stories of troubled nights and Valium.. Of eyes that remained strong, amidst tirade of abuses hurled at her. Eyes that know not how to hide the weight of all the pain that did not melt into tears. Soulful eyes that speak a language not everyone can understand.. This particular line from the song written as a tribute to Vincent Van Gogh,  With  eyes  that watch the  world and can't forget . Like the strangers that you've met...

I had this dream about waking up in your arms.  You were holding on to me not too tightly yet snugly in a way I've always wanted to be held. I could hear your heartbeat in sync with mine. The warmth of your breath on my skin, unruffled and calm as the wind near the sea shore on a starlit night,  makes me hold my breath even in the dream .   Your face looks peaceful and vulnerable, it makes me believe that this world is still beautiful. It makes me think about all the fairy tale love stories that I had sceptically read and review the concept of happy endings that I have always treated with so much contempt, they may not be all that fictional.!  But just for that moment of watching you sleep, I would want to let go of all the happy endings and forever afters that this life could offer. I close my eyes to absorb all this and to take a deep breath. The dream ends... I wake up with the not-so-sweet taste of reality but with a familiar warmth i...

When you look into my tired eyes what do you see? When you see me tucking away my wild untamable strands of hair, do you see all the impossibilities that I tie back along with the waves in my hair? On some nights when you see me lost stuck in my weeded mind tossing and turning without rhyme or reason.. Will you pull me through the thought maze and set me free? On some days when I fight back tears of defeat from my eyes and look into yours, my kohl rimmed eyes trying to hide traces of emotion. Will you see the pain burning inside the black lining? Some moments when I fumble at words to describe how much you mean to me, will you just read my silences and know what I failed to convey? When I appear distant and stare into the deep dark oblivion,  Will you hold my hand and walk me out of it.. When I explain my twisted past with  trembling lips my mind intoxicated after a bottle of whiskey .  Will you hold onto me till I fall asleep? Day after day when you see my tired eyes, d...

This point in my life the one right now can be termed as "the chase". Till a year ago I was this normal, bored, half asleep, college go-er. Who bunked classes to get some extra hours of sleep. Till one day when this project came along my way and I found a reason to move my complacent ass out of bed every morning! I realized that I could make a difference with my work(and not my remarks which helped me gain a few enemies here and there!) and the rest slowly fell into place. I mostly like working in my research project , somedays  I hate it and feel overworked and under-appreciated on some I feel like a super she-ro by finishing all of what I took on my plate (and do a happy jig now and then!).   So basically this project thingy has become sort of like my disputed lover who I quarrel with a lot and then kiss and make up by working extra hard. Truth be told, there is a kind of friction among the people working in my lab and I can't help but feel that every ti...

The last year was one action packed year for me filled with with equal proportions of drama, romance and tragedy. It changed many equations both personally and professionally. From travelling and staying all alone in IIT Delhi to adjusting with unknown people  and almost always being the junior most person in the group. 2015 has made me tougher and  stronger and independent  in ways I will never forget. It has been a jolly good ride so far. I have made some terrible mistakes only to gain more clarity on what I actually wanted from life. I have learnt to accept what I cannot change and my judgemental old self has taken quite a back-seat.  I have blogged lesser but i have written more at the back of notebooks and files like old times when I didn't have this blog.  I had started working on a big project last year and if everything goes well I might have a paper published. And if I goof up it might be one of the biggest screw ups in my career. ...

Is chaatne aur chatwane ki duniya mei , Kabhi juta toh kabhi salam thokne ki addato mei roj marra ke boring se fasano mei, bus aur local train mei latak kar ghar wapas jane mei.. Fir ekdin subah uthke kaam pe jane kliye khud ko fuslane mei.. Baki reh gaye un sawalo mei, aur roz ke galat jhuthe jawabo mei Socha hai kabhi kaha kami reh gayi? Kaha anjane mei lagaam kuch dhili chordi? Kaha jaan muchkar chutiya ban gaye Kaha bar baar thokar khane chale gaye Kab dil aur dimag ke beech fass kar kuch zyada hi keh gaye.. Aur kaha sab kuch sehkar kadwa ghoot piker chup rehgaye.. Is chatne aur chatwane ki duniya mei vyaktitva ko kyu khote gaye Kyu khokar thokare khakar chup rehne ki addat daalkar, chutiye bante reh gaye.. Kabhi talve chate toh kabhi apne chatwate gaye..

One of the many things that I miss the most about not having Dadi around is, whenever we left for school,my father to his office in the morning. I used to say "Dadi jachi" (Dadi I am going) to which she would scold me lovingly and say "jachi bolte hoyna bolo ami ashchi"(You shouldn't say you are going, say I am going, to come back) and then she used to fold her hands and say " Dugga Dugga ".  I would always purposely make this mistake of saying "ami jachi" almost every day so that she would correct me affectionately. I would ask her to say "Dugga dugga" again and again for extra protection and sometimes I would imitate her saying Dugga Dugga myself. But whenever she said that I would feel safe inside, such that all the obstacles and problems on the way are cleared.  Now nobody says Dugga Dugga when I leave home but when I look at her picture smiling at me before I leave, I can feel it somewhere inside me a faint but vivid soun...

What is it about unattainable men that attracts us to them? Why do women almost always fall for men who they can't have? That unkept beard, that careless smile and eyes like the lake shinning in the moonlight! Huhh! That's my kind of 'Mr Impossible' but I am sure most women will have their own 'Mr Impossible' in mind!(There isn't any dearth of careless cute guys oblivious to the trouble they cause to our poor hearts!)  Anyone at any stage of their lives can have a crush! As I always tell my friends its never too late to have a little bit of flutter in your stomach. Maybe it will make you love and pay attention to yourself a little more.  Has someone ever made you so nervous that you eat your words and forget to eat the food in front of you?  When your crushing on someone you remember their each and every word and gesture.  Every time your eyes meet your heart skips a beat. And you wonder if they're feeling the same.    You stalk them on all possib...