Saturday, December 31, 2011

2012, ahoy!

I was wrong. The last thing 2011 was, was unnecessary. It was as for me to step into the shoes of the person I am, today as for me giving winter a chance and just try and like it a tad bit. Keeping all the preaching, and philosophy away; 2011 was a year that slapped me in the beginning, caught me off guard (heh, understatement.) and jerked me back to the person I actually am.

2011 had everything a year could possibly fit in the calender. Love, hate, first timers, heart ache, anger, friendship (a gazellion tonnes at that), adventure, mad laughter, sloshed tears, memories with people least expected, good good times, coincidences, intentional actions, brewing romance, quiet tongue bites, a whole lot of self realization.


Of Memories
Hopped into a bus not knowing where it went, seen in a coffee shop alone with a map perked up my nose, wildest worldcup with a house full of boys, random weekend day outs with my favorite ladies,showing up at every exhibition in the city, Jeffry Archer Book launch with Rem, Delhi's Dhobighaat, first pool party ever,MENS FRIKKIN LOO, 8 day extended party with Raima, Remya showing up close to midnight on my birthday, Illegal Pahargunj with Vanta & Guina, library 'dates', nailing most competitions with Remya, Robin's birthday special with our hats, travelling around Delhi with my walking-talking lovebugs, BIG BANG THEORY and Masterchef loops at Robin's almost everyday at 1, Calcutta's Coffee House romance, jams with Maiden, Maggi at Shiv's, Roy's studio, Remya's text "I'll wait till New Years if I have to", every goddamn day at school,Shruti Di's birthday surprise, NEW YORK CHEESECAKE!,  writing like a lover, Joy's birthday, Rohan's Patiala jokes, morning blues at the school corridor,GAY conversations with the ladies, FRAPES, Singing 'Sweetie' on my birthday,CHA CHA night with Robin, walking in and out of Math class, weekend at sister's, screaming SINGLE IS SEXY, End Of School Bucket List, getting called to the Principal's office for getting into trouble- for a change, canteen march 'S*** P****!' with the girls and Chatur,27/7 coffee chills, evening Chai, showing up at Guina's before every practical exam with a sly grin, COOKING at Robin's kitchen like nobody's business, Robin's WHIPPED stunt, Orrisa First Timers, karaoke night with sisters, Aliya, SKYPE, back to back dinner and lunches with Neha and Sheks, partying like an animal at Chika's, randomly crashing Vanta's place anytime at the oddest off hours,email marathons with Mantah,tearing up diaries worth 6 years with Neha,CONTI, my poem making it to the Commendable Section for the Ruskin Bond Writing Competition,last solo performance in school.. *and counting. 


These weren't even half the memories, but the ones I could remember in a single go with five minutes in hand before I'm called to run my happy rear downstairs for a Bonfire with my humongous family which is very happy by the way, and Happy Bengali people means loud business. But I can't remember of any other year when I'd close my eyes and such a whirlpool of so many memories swirled in. This year had the middle name of Self Realization. It's been a year when I was on my own, completely; and I couldn't be more grateful. There were decisions, harsh ones.. but I bow down to the same old; it's happened for the best- Word.


So enter, 2012. I've experienced everything the last year could possibly be capable of... you, 2012 better be competition to all of that. I usually don't have any resolutions, most 31st Decembers are devoid resolutions for me. I make resolutions as the year kicks in, but this time... I have one.
It's to never give up on happiness for things that don't promise to stay. 
For that matter, to never give up on happiness at all.
For it's that one faith, that's going to be your saving grace :)


There are too many people who made this year so insane. Who held straight faces when I tried cracking the punchline of Pjs (which I suck at beyond infinity.), who kind of dragged me along every time I'd stop walking, who thought a pint of beer was a solution to every problem in life, who posted black gay hearts on my Facebook or sent me absolutely racist text messages just to crack me up and say Hi, who fought with me like cats and dogs and said the most hurtful things and ended up calling me up and going 'errr...so cold coffee today evening?' and vice versa, who made me coffee late at night just to make sure I didn't fall asleep with the book on my face, and just.. a lot of people who took care of me and stuck around in a way that was extraordinary. You all know who you are, I thank you, crazy people. I know I've been a retarded nut to handle :)








Happy new year, World.
Stay blessed and sing in the songs for 2012 ahoy! Let's get groooooooovy ;)

-Love love love, all you need is love!
Nil.


P.s- Come to think of it..... 2011 was rather kickass! 

Saturday, December 24, 2011

I'll forget what happened, and I'll dance, right there in the middle.

Greetings, winter people!
The shout mouth is back. And go get some blankets and a whole lotta hoodies, here comes up my winter update.

So last night was the last school Annual Day of my life. It never really sunk in cause unlike the past thirteen years, I didn't bunk each and every class for 3 weeks irrespective of annual day rehearsals or no, didn't run around the whole school helping out with lists of a zillion participants or stayed back in school for post school hour rehearsals. This fourteenth year, I just went for a single stage practice to figure the spotlight and stage space and that's it, I saw the stage next straight on performance day. Which is why maybe, this year.. annual day didn't feel right. But the fact that last night was my last solo performance on that stage feels surreal. 
(Thanks for the photo, Vantz!)
My friends came, my parents were darn proud. The show ended at quite an amazing note, and it didn't look half as shitty as I thought the Finale would be. It wasn't no fine choreography, but it was just.. an agglomeration of kids who danced on the aisles, on stage and on the stairs despite the frequent swears they probe at the school system everyday. And I guess that's what happened to me,too. Two minutes before my entrance, I stood backstage and I forgot about every thing that happened, went on stage and danced right there in the middle of the stage and gave the best I could to my last performance in school. 
When it ended, and I took a bow, I felt happy. Content. And satisfied. A series of events after which included praise, laughter, photographs, squeals ended with me in the car ride back home, and a weird sense of anxiety. What next? What, after this? 

So I guess this anxiety will stay till March end. Till the next two months of complete riots get over, and every one's back to normal and back to their senses. (Believe me I have reasons for saying the same.)
December's been a strange month. Of our school's Conti, informal end of school, strange mood swings, denial, complete ignorance, goddamn winter and a mumbo jumbo of the mind and the heart.
The fact that the one most constant thing in my life, school is pretty much gone leaves me on a very vulnerable ground where I'm just breathing calm and trying to hold on to the icing. 
It'll be fine, I know it will. It's just the wait, that's so taxing. 

Anyhow, Christmas tomorrow. The heart of the city's going to look gorgeous tonight, so please do make a quick detour from your celebrations and make your way to Connaught Place. I know I will :)
Other than that, another year's come to an end... New years in a week, wow. Damn, 2011 you've been one unnecessary year. But more on that, later :-)

That's enough for December's update. Also, THANK YOU lovely readers for the gorgeous response on the last piece. I can't say it enough, but you guys keep my going. This is another quick opportunity to mention Shelly Brown who's been reading my blog since about three years and finally decided to email me her heart out this December, thank you. Silent readers like you probe the subconscious writer in me to write more just for a few anonymous smiles, around the world. Thank you, really. 
 
With that, I sign out. Have a gorgeous Christmas, you guys and I'll hopefully be back with a New Years post, as ritual has it. 
Much love, always,
Nil.

P.s- Brrrrrrrrrrrrrr!

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Nascent romance.

You rise from a prolonged slumber, ambivalent if it was sweet. The curtains are timid, letting in certain stray rays of sunlight that have been burning the fabrics of the same, that sealed you within your cocoon of soothe, solace.
Nothing looks different, not a dust has traveled.. the haven within the four walls has been sincerely parallel to the that of your mind, the radiating warmth is the same, the station on the radio still plays the same song. Time stopped here, but life on the road didn't ;You realize, once you gingerly walk to the french window, and see the quiet nip of winter smiling on the hooded jackets of wool on people, who carried on, who are carrying on.
The white tee shirt on you feels a little tense, your gaze shifts to the mirror, you wonder if you've advanced some on the weight machine, but you look the same, you still look the same.
You still have a broken nail, that odd twisted smile, the quick frown, the waist long hair. Your skin is still recuperating from the goose bumps, the only recent past you were bequeathed to ponder on.

There's an unsure knock on the door, the familiar face peeping makes you smile. You gesture him to come in, to sit with you, to talk to you, to just be there. So home would feel regular, and the spry change of the lazy seasons wouldn't collide your senses anymore.
...and while you listen to what has happened since you were away, how many bride grooms kissed their brides, how many kittens snuck in through the garden, who the dog barked at, and how the world still revolved while yours slowed down, unsure - you translate the normalcy in that face in front of you, who's happy to see you and who's happy to welcome you back, despite your arrogant disappearance.
And you smile, for most things never altered. It's December already, but it still feels like June.

..and you finally let out a laugh, at how the months, years don't wait. But each and every essence of an old emotion can stand still, suspended in air, until you realize, it's December already, and now that emotion is dead.. for it decayed along with the leaves of autumn, and gave in way to snow, and a nascent romance.

You look at the face in front of you, still uttering on each and every detail you missed while in your slumber.. Yes,he was a nascent romance. 


(And with that, ends my break..and starts my winter. Good lord,it's December already.)
-Nil :)

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Altering associations.

Dear readers,
I know I promised fiction for this post, but circumstances are a little grave here (and promises are meant to be broken?). Today has been a strange day. One that came with very ugly revelations and threw light on some amount of irrationality that's been lurking around me and my actions. Thus, I have decided to dissociate for a while, from the daily circle of communication and am going ahead to a short break. A short break where I wouldn't be in touch for a while on networking sites and blogger, too.
I promise to read your rants, though. But I do not assure a word from my end, a silent reader is all I have to offer to you, for now. I will be back soon, you never know maybe in a week. But from the look of things, perhaps a teeny wee bit more than that.

So till I get back, may you all have a lovely beginning to winter. And I hope to find you all right here, once I've finally had enough of silence, and am ready to once again pounce on you with my rants and tales of fiction. Thank you all, though. You've all made me want to write even when inspiration gave up on me :-)

Always love,
Nil. 

Saturday, November 19, 2011

green sandals and sharpened pencils.

There's such a 'feeeeeeeeeeeeeel' to writing with a long slender new pencil on crisp ruled paper, right? Back in 5th grade we were in such a hurry to get started with writing with pens, whatte thrill it was! ink! How I miss the scratchy noise of pencils on paper now in a classroom.
Ideally, this post should have been fiction. But you see that doesn't happen when I have a week to go for my second terms, complimented with perpetual mind farts of anxiety and immodest hours of economics and political science followed by space outs of staring at my pair of green sandals and hoping to find the answer to everything in the universe, there.

Random photo clicked yesterday. I like :)
Last night was a breather,though. I went for a birthday dinner to a friend's. And since it was her 18th, we guys decided to go off the record and wear sarees. So that was quite an incentive to study my rear off the whole day just so I could gulp down some cake without guilt trips. Other than that, it was fun. I worked harder than the host, so I guess that gave me brownie points to the 'feel good' factor which are rarely encountered when you reach the month of November while the boards wait with sadistic patience sitting with fat answer sheets in March. Do you see? I've become obsessive about the whole scene. I can't have a conversation without the B word in it.
Must.stop.now.

Apart from that, I've been upto randomness. There's a series of Bokeh effects I'd tried a while back, and I always wanted to put it up on my blog. I just never got the chance to. (Read: I was lazy to uplaod them on the computer.) So since I have nothing spicy going on for now, and YET I had to come here to my safe haven and speak bull crap, I'll spare you darrrrrrling readers any further BS and award you lot with pretty bokeh photos for being too much of awesome listeners. Not to mention I FINALLY RESPONDED TO ALL YOUR EMAILS SO YOU GUYS CAN GO DO THE BHANGRA and refrain from responding with abuses : )

There you go. And while you guys check them out,click and listen to this (goes puurrrfactly.)- Pretty Lights Finally Moving.









Okay peeeppuulllzz. I should go now. My half and hour break just turned into an extended holiday. So adios, and I promise some fiction from ze next posters for you lot. (Obviously, since I'll be dwelling on ways to get through the next month without letting the suicidal part of 12th grade get the better of me.)
Laaaats of love,
Nil :)

Friday, November 11, 2011

Happiness is really such a simple thing.

It was the unofficial last day of school. It felt the same, but there were minutes of strangeness when I'd zone out somewhere in the middle of the corridor, or the classroom and realize that after today, the school that I knew would cease to be. I would only go for exams, and rare occasions of doubt classes. But school- the regular bus stand at 7:30am, the recurring morning blues, the often ignored yellow classroom doors and windows,the library, geography lab, the big field, oily Gupta Ji canteen food, mini shop, bur ride back home, the heat, the sweat- and in the middle of all this- those classmates who've become friends family in the past few years.
It was strange to even think that the routine will now be broken. That all of this won't happen, and the thought of a non-uniformed life seemed so alien and... unsettling?

I've lived in the heart of this school for fourteen years. Abused it unconditionally, kicked the bathroom doors a zillion times, scribbled rude drawings of teachers on the black board, solved sums on the tables, and gradually graduated to the Back Benchers Association by grade 12 :-)
I've walked in with pride holding prizes with a collar up, I've cried in the bathroom, I've hid behind the swimming pool, and I've bunked all around the place. And on graceful occasions, sat in class with my chin on both my hands and looked and heard out the (mostly) lovely teachers.

And I've made friends, oh yes. I have. I've made friends with bonds that can stretch further than chewing gums, the ones that used to be stuck under the tables and would inevitably find place in my skirt. (Trips to the Home Science lab for soap would follow.)

And then today once the last bell rang, I couldn't help but let out a nervous smile. And actually stood straight like an obedient child and repeated the prayer on the intercom, for maybe the first time in months. The last school-gives-over prayer.

And THEN. Daftuar's priceless nags began while exiting the gates of the school, yelping as if we were to die the next minute. Emosssanally charged students around were clicking photos as if the school was coming to an end in 2011. (Technically, yea yea.) But it was kind of overwhelming, and finally I cut through the melodrama and crashed Vant's place for a calculated half an hour to just chill and then go home and study like no body's business. And once I got there, the usual shitting around started and abuses to our favorite Mallu lady resumed with the sidelines of PJs and gayness. And just... chill.
And I was happy.
I was happy because although school is coming to an end... I kinda realized it's for the best. I've grasped in as much as I could and seeing those two lady retards, bullshitting racism all over the place with Rem, spending useless hours in the library with Rob,rolling eyes at Chatur for the chimp he is... they leave the epiphany that maybe, this is just the start. These people are going to stay. And that tiny moments through out the last fourteen years have made up a kick-frikkin-ass entourage of my hemisphere. And the other one, I'm on my way to figure.

So really. Happiness is really such a simple thing. And to a question that I've been dwelling on for a while after reading a fellow blogger's post is- Is it a choice? Hell yeah. It is. Shit happens. People walk in, they walk out, they mess your head, they make the best memories, they turn out to be complete pricks, and you regret a whole lot, but then you cherish a muuuch bigger lot.
So by the end of it, you've breathed in everything. Everything that you could. And you still are breathing, soaking in every flaw and creek that comes your way WITH those people/ memories/regrets/love.
That's the best part- you're still breathing :-)

Photos from today at Vanta's. Totally apt for the post, so :-)


Beedles, you're still a prick for not showing up today. But I had to add you to this one : )

So yes, shit happens. And if you can't fix it, spread it on the fields and enjoy the harvest ;)
It'll make you a much happier person!
(Also, shoot me for updating like a crazy frog but this one had to be posted!)
Love,
Nil. 

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

In silence.

In silence.

In silence,
you will realize my gaze,
I will catch your smile before,
it surrenders to laughter,
laughter; so real,
and we will fall in love,
in silence.

In silence,
your long slender fingers,
will caress the throbbing veins on my arm,
and that slender index,
will shoot up to my lips,
as soon as I try to break the silence.

It's all so quiet,
we both hush, tip toe and giggle,
devoid a vocabulary,
raising a white flag,
to gestures that will save us.

And in silence,
we will both know,
the sweetness of this quiet,
the sharpness of every move,
at this unearthly hour,
and....... the unnecessary cause of words.
We will speak and stay in love,
all of this......in silence.


-Nil.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Of November already and Big Bang Theory loops.

November's here already. I feel like I'd been sleeping all this while in a sound slumber and kaboom goes the diwali-ness in Delhi and I woke up to realize the year's already coming to an end. What a strange year it has been I tell you. I don't think it's excluded anything.
Diwali was pretty random and disorienting. Better than last years, nevertheless! Found ourselves at India Gate at godknows what hour of the night, taking strolls around the Guard who stood at attention like nobody's business.
My cousin was here for a good eight days, and lets just say I was on a vacation in Delhi.. Hell what a crazy time we had! From the most shady places in Delhi to insane karaoke nights where something revolutionary happened to me for the first time, but never mind that here (!).. To midnight coffee at coffee shops, speeding cars, meeting her absolutely w.i.l.d friends, turning her and Rob's hand blue while watching Paranormal Activities 3, and shopping like animals.. The past week has been gorgeous, in every single way :-)
I miss her like a sad little puppy, but heyy all good things come to an end. Shoot me.

Apart from that,I'm still hungover about how last month's been so godamn crazy and hectic. I haven't found the time to stop and breathe, not once, no. Something or the other's been up and my only soothers have been Limca and watching loops of the Big Bang Theory. Sheldon Cooper makes me happy and laugh like a wild child, and I need to frame his photo and see it everytime anything pisses me off. How, just HOW can a T.V series be so awesome that it makes the world a better place to live in? Quite literally speaking.
He makes me believe Sarcasm isn't dead yet :-)

Anyhow. Parents just god back from Bombay. Bloody good for me, it would save me going crazy in the weekends and bringing the lovely house into stones and toothbrushes. Anyhow. It's been a strange Wednesday; the kind that ain't a blue but is a mixture of frowns and the only wish to sleep. I came here to write this absolutely unproductive and shite post just so to let you guys know that I'm still alive, and I've just been busy. All the email replies will find their way to you very very soon, I promise. Give me the weekend? :-)
And there you go, my phone's beeping on low battery- something that it does pretty often now. I should really work on the phone charging thing, I ignore that instrument like its scum. But it's not in the drawer anymore, so that's an improvement, right?
Deviated beautifully, however no more. Ciao lovely people. I'll come back with some poems and happy things like Sheldon Cooper. Bless that boy. Hearts. (I would have drawn one, had it not irked me.)

Tata! Eat well, and sleep better, and party for me :-)
-Same old Nil.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

A quiet dinner.

She threw the jean with the belt hung on it, entered the kitchen and anticipated for last night's beacon to have vanished. The damp, unhappy fridge effected her mood drastically to her surprise. The husband wasn't home, and she was going to eat dinner alone. Again.
She tied her shirt up into a naught over her waist that had now gained a few layers of fat, after marriage. The husband called them his exclusive love handles. It didn't sound half as ridiculous when he said it as it did in her head, now.
She scooped some jelly and quickly gulped it down, as if guilty about her eyes watching..
Women, women ; She could almost imagine the husband snickering. She rolled her eyes at the solitary house who'd been her companion for the past month, while the husband had a secret affair with his Office desk, his files, and the tender submission. She sighed.

She put on the old Steely Dan record and started swinging to 'Home at last' while soaking some beans into the red bowl. She noticed a crack, and immediately a flash of irritation crossed her. Just how many times had she asked him to not enter the kitchen. Almost all the utensils had a crack here, a chipped end there. His careless approach to everything annoyed her, but three years of marriage had taught her the hidden vow of compromise, to let things pass and come in terms with the fact that she wasn't living alone anymore, that she couldn't have the wall hanging on the north wall because his Elvis poster had always nested there, that the curtains could not be the color of cherry, and that the shoes had to be kept outside the house, even though there was a cupboard inside which was now a home for the empty beer bottles which came from the weekend parties with their friends.
Yes, she did learn that she wasn't boss anymore,and that they had a mutual contract now.

She picked up the book the husband was currently reading. She was surprised to see it was one of her Sidney Sheldons. She smiled. It was the same book she couldn't stop talking about for weeks after her read. The same book he had sworn to not read so as to not contract the annoying disease of verbal book worm diarrhea, he had said!
The book mark was a coffee cup stain on the 87th page.
Yes, marriage had also taught her imperfection. Sweet, very sweet imperfection.

She bit her tongue as she remembered she hadn't checked her messages, she hopped to the brown coffee table and punched the red button and the messages started playing one by one...and as the track 'Peg' started playing, she sat on the dinner table, poured herself a glass of wine and chewed on her salad and waited for the husband to come back, loosen the blue tie and wink at her rushing to the shower... and while she imagined all the minute details of her daily life, the last message, dated three weeks ago, on the answering machine said ;

"Maya.. I'm so sorry.... about Rishi's sudden.. death. We want you to know that he was a good man, a lovely man. And of course a fantastic husband. We're all there for you, darling. Just a call away, you must know..."


She stood up and walked to the phone quietly, unplugged the answering machine, and went back to her dinner.


**************************************************************

Awaiting feedbacks as always!
Love,
Nil. 

Saturday, October 15, 2011

Polaroids.

Hello! It's been a strange month, with times of absolute unadulterated happiness as well as sudden and thickly interspersed space outs. My subsequent rants have obviously made that fact quite clear.. But I promise this one's the last! From the next post onwards, there's going to be fiction. Cause even I'm going to bury my nose deep into books and then my lovely sister will make her way to Delhi.. So I'm going to be terribly busy and you shall all get a break from the perpetual rants of erratic mood swings.

I just got back from a Raghu Rai Photography exhibition.. a close friend happened to read about it in the newspapers and so we decided to go have a look. I'm still awestruck at how the human mind creates such terrific concepts which leave one's mouth wide open after realizing the gravity of the thoughts behind each and every photograph. Ragu Rai..of course, is one of the best. But there were a bunch of other collections by various photographers who aren't very celebrated, and each and every photograph blew my mind off. At times, black and whites can be so overwhelming, and they almost make your mind travel to a distant memory that you never knew you retained inside you anymore. And the best part is, they're all feelings and people you see and feel every day. But the way each and every thought and expression had been emoted so profoundly into print was laudable. Inspiring and overwhelming..
I got some interesting photographs, too. Of the exhibition and people around.. Here are a few :-)






















So yeah. That was my update for the day, and that's going to be it for a while now. The next half of the month, I shall be busy spacing out from social networking, the phone shall find its cozy place in the drawer and I shall find best friends in multiple hours of NCERT textbooks and joy in Pahargunj and karaoke nights with my darling sister and our friends :-)
Basically, I shall rely only on interaction in person. Which is so much better and lesser hassle. Don't ask me why, though!

So tata world,
I shall be back by the end of the month. Till then, enjoy the fictions coming up. And take care!
Thumbs Up,
Nil.

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Conversations.

Presently, my house has about sixteen people scurrying up and down the house carrying plates of fruits, vermilion, sweets, vegetables, mirrors, holy threads and an agglomeration of pretty red and yellow things. The ground floor has a flirtatious aroma of mouth watering aaloo puri, while the elders laugh loudly making the tiny kids flee around the house from one place to another.
And no, there's no wedding in the house. This is just how my darling Bong family celebrates Lakshmi Puja. And this is exactly why, I absolutely love all these sixteen people who're taking turns in yelling my name out with not-so-polite tones for me to ditch this bunch of cyber garbage and go and participate.

My eldest uncle has been priding over the alpana (some thing you make with rice paste) I helped to make. He's been rewarding me with tiny toffees while my mother has been stuffing coconut sweets into my mouth for no apparent reason. My father is patting (punching) me on the back and bellowing with unnecessary happiness about how nice the red hideous kurta looks on me, and my tiny niece is having the time of my life sneezing and laughing at the same time on the apparently witty ways my elder brothers seem to have adapted to make the world realize how hilarious they are. (Talk to the hand,I said.)

And everybody is just randomly screaming and jumping around from place to place, stuffing on sweets and lovingly cursing the weather. The house feels breathing (sneezing) and alive.

Which is why, when you're in a terrible blue and unsure about the world under your feet, all you need is a darling of a crazy Bengali family laughing even when jokes aren't cracked, and pulling on your cheeks like you're the newborn of the house even though you're seventeen.

Rolling my eyes with a wiiiide grin,
Nil :-)

Friday, October 7, 2011

Over, the madness.

And it's over, the five day long madness.
The getting up in the morning to wear a crisp cotton saree, or showing around the pandals to my non bong friends like a matter of pride, the ceremonies at home, the sound of Dhak playing making your heart flutter, staying out way into the night with cheerful companions,the dhunochi aaroti dance, food- oh the food! And just... the festival in itself. The five days that you feel alive, the most. 
I know I mentioned the anticipated depression, but it ain't there really. I'm quite overwhelmed as always, and happiness is enjoying the quiet lazy epiphanies by sadness.

Durga Pujo this year was of another kind. Absolutely magnificent in most aspects and a little nostalgic in few.. the rituals were all the same. The pandals, most of the people, the feeling of belonging under one very colorful umbrella of happiness, and perpetual excitement of every minute.. yes, it was all the same. But also absolutely different in a whole new level.

Pujo started with Panchami when Rob and I fought pretty much the Odds of all the screwed network connections of Vodafone (hehh! Quite a night that one!).. Shashti, my ladies came over. That was altogether a trip of a different kind. Seven saree-clad beauties marching the roads with loud laughter, sipping on chuski, and a whole lot of fun.. Saptami was my day out with the other craziness oriented loves. Neha, Sheks,Chika, Rohan,Apu, Rukmani, Shuvro and okay basically a whole bunch of insane people! That was the ditch-Cr.Park-Day. We went and checked out the pandals outside Cr.park and they were such beauties I tell ya. Not to mention, the night ended with a drive to India gate wearing Devil horns and glow in the dark shades :-P   Ashtami, there was the main puja at my place.. Shiv came over, showed her around, bumped into Kanz and gang. Following which was the night that I felt alive the most- the Ashtami arati at K-block, where I did the dhunochi.. The rush, the intoxicating feeling of dancing in front of the idols proceeding to a trance is the one feeling that would stay and refuses to go away.
And Navami. The cherry on the cake.
The huge Bhattacharjee family rented a bus and off we were to rule the Puja pandals of New Delhi! And heh, um, then. For the keeps- the Navami night party at Cheeka's. THAT, I won't forget. Ever. No, not ever! No further details on that,err.
And finally, Bhashan..... The Visarjan saw us bongs go wild on the streets dancing to the beats of Dhak.. what a visarjan.. damn.

Ashtami Dhuno Aaroti..


So yeah. It's ended. The madness is over, and it's time to get back to the thick stick of Everyday. But as cliched, however very honest- and thus begins a year long wait. A wait that's always so worth it. It's been a kickass Pujo. Something I rather didn't expect.. I wish I had more to say, for this post. I anticipated a lengthy post  describing every minute detail of the odyssey.. but I think this is as much as I'd want to share, the rest is to stay with me only. For that's how amazing this pujo was, and I'd rather leave it to that. It's beauty within me.
 This Pujo was the onset to a whole new vision, a vision I ignored, to now realize that it was actually bliss.

Shubho bijoya everyone, and god bless :-)
Nil.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Small polite car talks.

About the last super hypnotic post, well yes, I was in the middle of midterms and it's Pink Floyd, so pfft. Enough said.
I'm back on the face of the planet. My phone doesn't cry in the drawer no more, and I replied to almost every email that was sitting in my inbox binge eating on dust and complaining people.
My exams were okay, I shall say no more cause that always ends up jinxing my results (not that I'm getting any golden eggs this time anyway).. anyhoo. So the next ten days, I plan to do nothing except sleep (a lot of that), party, READ, and..wait for it.. PUJO. Enough said again!

The above picture seems pretty contrasting to what I did today, a day after my exams got over- I woke up at 3 in the morning. And sang at 5am for Mohaloya (Non-bongs, Go Google.) But it honestly wasn't as bad as I thought. As much as I was confident my voice would crack at the highest note, loud and clear on the mike, it didn't. It was pretty decent, I say!
And of course, Neha, Shekhar and Robin. Dawgs that they are. Showed up at five in the morning grinning like they were living the ultimate plan of their lives. But Mohaloya didn't seem as terrorizing as it usually does. It was rather not bad at all. I didn't even slip wearing the saree B-)
Hippie Photo :)

Oh and yesterday, ze ladies log and I went to CP. Where I shot portraits of random strangers while Guinz and Vantz tried their Southindian and Bihari Best to kill me via pissed off looks. (they were cute, if not anything). And Remya ditched. Again. And slept. The whole day. She shall get her answer for this soon. SHALL SHALL SHALL! (your style, bidtch. If you're reading.)

Anyway. Since pujo starts in a ay or two, I'll probably be too busy to update. So there's some fiction coming your way! Cause there's going to be a super sad, depressed and anti-life post after about a week-ish once Pujo ends. So I'm almost bribing you to bear with me :-)
And now, I shall go and read a book. Or maybe catch a bus and go somewhere. Or watch a movie. Or go for coffee alone. Yes, I think I'll do that :)
How liberating did the last two lines feel!

Ciao readers,
I'll be back before you know it!

-Aador,
Nil.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Has it ever happened to you?

Has it ever happened to you, that the sky outside is a clich├ęd purple along with the concrete jungle around blushing to a light crimson, while you're hovering in a parallel world of Pink Floyd playing to the Dark Side Of the Moon.
Has it ever happened to you, that despite the unanswered texts in your phone hiding a bunch of plans, you wish to ignore the entire civilization and keep quiet and be on your own. Just indulge in music, and photographs of faces that speak a language through the grains of each and every print.
Has it ever happened to you, that you give yourself company at laughing on the foul things we kids run around after, that scream and yell their importance but stand so hollow once they're caught between our inexperienced, unwise, imbecile,bony fingers.
Has it ever happened to you, that in a ten minute long track, you understand the basic problem revolving around your life and the basic answer of pluck it out and throw it away like a weightless  weed altogether, for it to never return again.
Has it ever happened to you, all of this, in a span of twenty minutes in a single evening.

I wasn't asking, the question was rhetorical.


















 


Please listen.
-Nil.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Try again, he smiled.

She pressed her fingers harder into the strings, and he squinted his eyes till they were almost shut with a frowning brow, his lips mouthing 'E minor' like a silent prayer.
His expression could be mistaken as an exemplary image of pain, had he not suddenly flown his eyes open with a funny grin the moment she hit the right chord.
She looked up, lips pursed into a smile, big, big round eyes looking up at him like a child who just learned trick of tying her shoe lace. They both started laughing, and he punched the air. She though, kept her index finger tightly pressed to the chord, too scared to move;
"What if the flow breaks?"

Now it was his turn. He took the smaller guitar, suddenly finding himself frowning at the fact that she called it a Ukulele at first. She giggled looking at his face, she knew the culprit of that frown.
He started playing the next few chords, looking at the guitar as if talking to it. Asking for it to understand even the reverb to be heard at every chord. While she stared at his hands playing with the six strings like a child colors with crayons ; careless, effortless and carefree.
   She looked at his face with burning intensity, trying to pin point every emotion that crossed the flawed desert of his face, hoping to replicate not just the melody, but the cause behind it.
He looked up, and motioned her to play. She tried, hit the wrong chord and flinched. She tried again, failed again, tried some more, failed over and over again. She flinched. She didn't want to disgrace what he just played. She didn't want to usher away that soul that lived in those three strange, simple yet gorgeous chords. Her hands froze, her lips pursed ; the smile was gone.

He smiled and led her hands back on the guitar,
"The second try's always awful!", he said faking exasperation, looking straight into her eyes.
"Try again."

And that, was the first of many tries, of countless frowns, of sly grins and flinches, of ugly fingernails.

"Try again." ; he's nod.
And she would.  She would try again and again, and again...and as she played, he squinted his eyes, almost shut, frowned brows..and smile.
And slowly her eyes closed,too. She bent down to the guitar while she played, fumbled, played again.
And he'd listen with his face screwed up, hunting perfection with his eyes closed, bending toward the guitar.
And as her finger skin ragged more and more, the two of them sat close, heads bent towards each other, noses at a pin's distance, with eyes tightly shut ; outlining forced wrinkles on their youthful eyelids.. and both their foreheads had lines which echoed concentration, their minds unaware of everything and their heartbeats throbbing to the six string's tale.

...and as she hit a wrong chord, the illusion broke.
She flinched.

"Try again.", he smiled. 



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Awaiting feedbacks duuuh :-)
-Nil.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The clouds are lifting from the ocean.

I'm obsessed with Japanese writers again. You must know, because I shall update you with trivial insignificant facts of life, since I haven't ranted at all this month. Blame my cursed mid terms for it (why did that remind me of a mid wife?)
Anyway. The month has been academically eventful. Though my report card won't show so, I know. By the end of seven hours of Political Science, I came to realize the next day was that what I wrote in the paper was utter, naked bullshit interspersed with murderous silly mistakes and I've realized it's cow poop when they say 'Women are good with dates' cause the theory doesn't seem to work with me. Out of nine chapters (the whole fat book), all I could gather was two dates I could be sure of. 1961 and '62. And they weren't even a part of the one markers so screw that shit.
Anyhoo. My life without Facebook still feels like a private Himalaya in Delhi. I sit online for half n hour a day. I check Blogger, skype some and sign out letting a fantastic play list of Goan and Euro trance play.

My econ tuition teacher loves me and considers me a bright bulb. And hence, I didn't exactly know how to react when he told me he had a 'feeling' that I wasn't going to do well in this midterm and he seemed considerably cheerful about it. Which is why I stick by my policy of not bothering to understand much of Scholarly people.

My cousin sister came over for the weekend, and we had our share of
going out shopping and not buying anything,hehh. (I got my nose pin changed to a ring, if that's an update?) And yeah that's her--->
Also,the following night she,my elder sister and I had a Sisters Night Out at this super fancy Sizzler joint. I'm positive I can't eat for the next three days, that's how full I am!


Other than that, life is pretty upsetting till the 26th. That's when my midterms get over, and my ladies and I run to Paharganj once again to lash out on the markets and Sam's Cafe.
Not to mention PUJO is on its way! My spirits have considerably dampened because of idiotic friends of mine who choose to ditch Delhi and decide to screw up big bong plans. (You're never going to hear the end of this, trust me dear boy.)
But hey my ladies plan to be around a lot during pujo, so hell I'm psyched about showing them around. They've never seen the "real thing" of it before. Also, I plan on spending a lot of time with family this time. OH OH OH and I'm also going for Bhashan this year! (for those of you who don't have a clue of what I'm saying,I shall explain when I'm online for longer okay?)
Anndd. Now the cherry on the cake- Raima, my sister's going to be here for Diwali. I was expecting Diwali to suck monkey balls this year like my last one, but hey thank god she's going to be here :) So that means another blissful week of insane fun.

But yeah. Before all the fun starts, I still have about another week of books and mid terms to write. Sigh. So anyhoo. I shall take your leave now. And I love you readers for the amazing positive feedbacks y'all have been giving me on my fictions last month. Honestly, you guys make me want to write.
Now ciao! Hope you lot had a fantastic weekend.

-Hoping for some more rainy skies please,
Nil.

P.S- Tomorrow's my English midterm. I realize now I underestimated the course a bit too much, and maybe attending a class or two would have done me some good. Shit.
 

Friday, September 16, 2011

Summer went away, and we just weren't the same.

Summer changes me. Every time. Every summer break that does me the favor of sixty days to myself, to the scotching sun, to the sunburnt back of my neck, to white tee shirts and flannel pants, to friends, and to sitting at home with nothing but a good book and a glass of juice to my liability.
This routine happens, every year and yet, every summer I'm introduced to some magic. To some one. To some place. To myself.

Summer is when I abandon every element of hesitance. It's when I go right ahead and do the biggest mistakes of my life. Mistakes which kiss me and slap me every now and then, and laugh with me when I see myself grow from that particular sunny day when the sun was at its best. When I was walking on the streets wearing flats which seemed to have burnt holes, when the metallic rods of buses seem to burn into my skin, when I fall in love, when I fall out of love, and when I take another plunge into another insanity.
Yes. Summer is insanity.

By the end of the summer, there's one person, one place and one side of me that is stuck to my head. That is surfacing realizations of the same facts in different characters. And  those three epiphanies stay with me until next summer rolls in. And I'm introduced to another person, another place, and another side of me. Yes, summer changes me every time.

I feel happy in summers. Perhaps everything I'm writing right now sounds like a kindergartener writing an essay on what summer means to him, repeating words, nouns,verbs.. But this post is just an honest confession and something simple I wanted to write since 2008...and it's all true. And perhaps, it couldn't be more true for it sounds like a child's words. Cause every summer I realize what a child I am. I fall from stairs, I burn myself while trying to toast bread for the first time for someone special, I make an inseparable friend, I cry for my dog's cuteness, I... I just do things to feel happy. To make people happy. And to just.... live.
So yeah. I am a child. A big, crazy and wild one at that!

But with every passing summer I leave a side of that child behind... It happened last year, happened this year, and is inevitable next year.
But that's what's so amazing. Summer. Dragon flies. And realizing yourself. And your differences from a reflection that now seems younger, with a toothier grin, looking eagerly at someone at the other side of the mirror who looks a little older, mature....and well, just different.

It's true. Summer went away and we just weren't the same.



-Nil.

Monday, September 12, 2011

The hush hush Street.

 The hush hush Street.

Like snippets of my imagination, a hurricane of possibilities rove through my mind when I saw the man standing there, under the yellow street lamp smoking his pipe. His body language was unsure, his eyes were hollow holes with only the jaws of his face illuminated. His coat was old, strands of wool discharged into awkward angles of obtuse. His posture kept shifting, trying to hold a confident edge but failed miserably to find a comfortable stand..
"Hmm..Nervous..But would he?" ; I heard my mind calculate the possibilities.. I decided against him. I remembered Boss complaining about my insularity, the other day. And suddenly, I found myself in an agitation to prove him wrong, like a child I felt my brows frowning and my knees felt weak.

I lit my smoke, the tiny flame caught the man's attention in the dim surrounding. I leaned next to the bar door and let the light of the fluctuating tube light above outlining the bar's name fall on me. On my cut sleeved red dress, on the careless chunks of jewellery accentuating my collar bone, on the red high heels that transformed me the minute I kicked them on.
I let the man see me. 

He took half a step, adjusting his hat. And then retreated back, and walked away briskly.
"Hmm.. he wouldn't. Too much of a pet cat.."; I smiled.

I blew the smoke up into the air, letting the chill in the air soothe my face, and calm my relieved nerves. I drew in and drew out my right leg on the concrete below. I was surprised at how gorgeous they looked. I heard Ruby's words somewhere in my ear; "Practice makes a woman perfect hun.. A man will always be just as imperfect as the first try." ; and somewhere I saw her wink too.

A couple passed  by. The man's eyes immediately shifted to my legs, the hips, and then above. And then quickly looked at his wife with an apologetic smile, who didn't notice his seconds of fantasy. The wife smiled back. But they walked swiftly and took a turn in the next block. Getting rid of this street as soon as they could. The man looked back, before the curve.
"Of course he'll come back to this street very soon." my mind spoke.

I lit the next cigarette. A Mercedes Benz swooshed by, and stopped abruptly in front of the bar three doors away. The expensive one. A lean man in an expensive ensemble stepped out with a white package under his armpit. He put on a white fedora, and walked in quickly.
"Did expensive really matter?" , my mind asked.
 An hour later, I spotted the man. This time, the fedora was gone, the outline of his hair was ruffled,  and his walk a little unstable, trying to keep a quick pace. The irritable foot tapping didn't stop until the Benz came to pick him up, and the car went away. I saw the man pull up the window.

I lit my third cigarette. And waited for some more faces, few more shadows to lurk around this forbidden and yet celebrated street of the city. I exhaled in the warmth of the smoke, the only companion who'd hover around,follow the faces in ghostly shapes and vanish into thin air just like the shadows of this hush hush street.. who'd hover around until one of them would actually come where I stood, slide his arms into my waist and let me escort him into the door behind me.
I waited and let the brothel in my mind speak, judge and laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awaiting feedbacks as usual..
Love,
Nil.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

Snippets.

Blissful without Facebook. Never thought I'd say that.
While I was on my break from Pol Science : 

I love.
The BEATLES Coffee Table book.




My first Valentine's Day Rose. 2009. (From my old diary)
















My birthday, 2009. Woke up to find a huugge bouquet of roses.
















What Remya and I do in Pol Science.













Economics class :)
























Happiness.

















 -A slightly different,
Nil.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Murders are beautiful.

No they're not. But illusions of pretty things I tell you, they fool us.
So there's a photo I clicked at Vanta's today. Bunch of ants were feeding on the remnants of a beautiful moth. And the dreadfulness of it was numbed by how beautiful it managed to look, the synchronized procession of the ants, and the wings of the moth still looking just as gorgeous while lifeless.

Illusions of pretty things I tell you, they fool us.


-Nil.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Just like last morning.

The mind wakes up to a surreal morning, angry remnants of desired conclusions bustling in a hurry over the caffeine of last night's sleep. The yellow morning should have been pleasant, but the pupil only adjusts and readjusts itself to see clearly despite the painfully throbbing window panes of the mind's eye. Lips half opened, close into a pursed defense when the dizziness increases, palms shoot up to comfort the face with familiar lines and own skin, but the series of dreams left the mind agitated, the body at unease, and the hair uncombed and thoughts just as riddled as the knots that would be later tugged on with the green comb.
The anxious shoulders work up the courage to move, the body shifts places and travels to the colder region of the bed, to get rid of the warmth of the place where the body slept for eleven hours and the place that felt like a recently exhausted engine of an old angry truck. Focus zeroes down to the small tattoo of the dragonfly on the ankle, and slowly the five senses regain and recollect the origin of the body. The sixth sense hushes down the constant nervous yelps booming in the speakers somewhere far away, within the soul perhaps?
The day compliments itself with the whistles of the iron boy, skipping and hopping to the neighborhood households to carry away crushed white shirts and bring them back crisp by the evening for another day of 9-5 slave hours for the guy next door with brown polished boots and the corporate car.
The cat purred in its sleep beside..The world was slowly making sense.
Water!, the tongue rebels. As the Adam's apple is bathed with the cold noble liquid, courtesies the refrigerator, the body subsides to the calm, the quiet, and understands again, just like last morning, who it was, what it does, and where it belongs. 


Courtesy- NILADRI BHATTACHARJEE.
-Nil.

Saturday, August 27, 2011

He smiles.

He smiles. 

He pours out the hushed tales,
tales of his life which would have been fairtytales otherwise,
had he not closed his eyes and smiled,
smiled at every word that his unconscious tongue let go.

He seemed to smile at the irony,
the irony of sad humor,
the humor at the slaves we all are to The Greater Good,
slaves...slaves of Time.

He seemed to smile,
at the subtle leaves of Change,
that have yellowing edges,
that want to be a part of autumn, and look belonged.

But he also smiled,
because he wasn't afraid.
Afraid to be read,
to float on the naked surface of truth,
he smiled,
cause this is how it was,
and there was no changing it.

But while I stood on the aisles,
and watched the curtains rise and fall,
to his mono act,
to his One Man show,
with every wave of confessions,
I looked at him harder,
for he still closed his eyes and smiled,
and that,
just that, gave me a reason enough,
to live, to strive, to run, to smile..
Cause this is how it was,
and there was no changing it..


-Nil.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Rolling in the deep.

Yes, that's my current obsession- Adele is a fugging genius.
And with a weather like that, everything seems genius. And the line 'They keep me thinking, we almost had it all" is stuck in my head. They make a little too much sense in my life, right now. And that's overwhelming, and so I sit on Blogger with a tranced out face trying to make sense out of the sudden blankness that just shut my brain down.

The last weekend was a little too eventful. So it was a whole bunch of bollocks when I decided that I'd stay indoor and study till there's no more coffee at home. Well. That didn't happen. I did study yeah, but not even close to how much I was supposed to. Okay that's awesome, that just added in guilt with the blankness in my neurons.
Anyhow. So Friday was outright insane. I'm not supposed to write about it on my blog, but lets just say that the bucket list I was talking about in my last post is slowly filling up well and quick. Saturday and Sunday went by quickly cause my friend Aliya's come to India, and so there was her birthday outing cause of which I visited Qutub Minar and Essex Farm after what seemed like eons, and then we had a sleepover at her place which left me sleep deprived, and I'm yet to catch up on it. All of this was somehow interspersed with sessions of Econ and Pol Science (i have no clue how tho.)
And yesterday, I met my sister for lunch, the purpose of which was to meet her boyfriend who's a solid guy and a kickass photographer. Quiet, humble, insanely talented. So we had quite an amazing lunch followed by nomading around the streets of CP while this guy kept taking pictures of us which I have no clue how left me quiet. Nobody posed. We just talked and walked and heard his Canon 1000D go 'Khichak!' every second. So multiple Photoshoot dates decided after my First Term exams end.

Missed out on the Southie lunch at my Lavaaaar's place on Sunday..which was quite kickass I heard. And I've been hearing about some retarded video which these guys made (put it up will you?) and the racial jokes with my ladies continue enhancing love between us :/
Vanta: They named West Bengal Paschim Bangaaa!
Me (in a serious tone): Yes, they did. Poshchim Bongo.
Vanta: BWAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
Now you see, any normal bong would have gotten pretty offended at the conversation above but not in my case,no. That's pretty much the way we talk, all of my ladiej. And racial jokes on each other is what binds us together = )

School was pretty normal tday. Econ was the only class I studied. Geo/Pol Science bleh. English,bunked. Made Rob bunk Biotech again. Which reminds me I'm supposed to figure something out and see that bugger at seven. How does that work?
Anyhoo. I have a cold. One of those annoying ones which make your throat feel ticklish all the time and you feel like punching your throat till it dies.

Did I mention one of my teachers is learning Salsa to propose his lady for marriage?
And I thought romantics were dead.

Ok bye.
-Nil.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Chiquitita Memories

'nuff of the serious deep fiction, HI there,fat round world. How are thee doing? The day has been absolutely generous in drenching me with sweat every time I step anywhere which has the faintest trace of the sun, also the rain gods have been shy and unwilling which is annoying me. BUT. I must tell you that yesterday something happened. I mean, nothing "happened". Just....an epiphany. You know how we hold on to certain threads of a memory/a person/a hope?.. a thread that somehow sends quiet sparks into the silent sky of your thoughts.. Yeah, well, when that thread breaks, you almost hear a loud 'SNAP!' in your head. That happened. Last night. And I couldn't be more happy. It had been a while since I'd been holding on to lose ends of a ribbon and now, as Remya put it, I've cut that end of the ribbon and let it fall in the ground. And it's over, for good now. :)

THERE. End of deep stuff. Okay so here's the update- My darling retards in school and I have all decided on figuring out this bucket list of things we want to do before we leave school, and slowly we've started the execution to all those Must-Do checks. We've done two, almost in the process of doing the third one, but heyy I plan to publish that list on my blog in the end of the school year. But just to give you a peak-a-boo to today's Wishlist execution-----> I always wanted to run wild on the School's terrace where students aren't allowed. I wanted to do a sprint, run crazy, and let the wind blow into my face cause the terrace is always pretty insane with the summer winds.. And so, today, Vanta and Guinz came to us (Rem and me) after break and told us that the passage to the terrace was open! And so, there we went. We dragged Chatur along and hell while I was walking hurriedly towards the stairs that led up, I felt this tension and once I entered the terrace, the first thing that greeted me was that crazy craaazy wind. I did sprints with Rem, ran w.i.l.d with Guinz and laughed like a retard with Chatur and Vantz. And with that, I felt exhilarated. Somehow. I felt.. amazing. Happy. I felt happy.


Yeah. So with that, we hurried out when the care taker, who was the most chilled stud I've ever seen btw, asked us to get the hell out :) And then, I spent useless hours in the Lab with Robin reading romantic poems on the internet and cracking sick jokes at the mush. Then I sat through the other classes with Chatur randomly waving HI to Rem and me frantically from outside the class. With the perpetual chaos going on in the corridors, the snickering in class and feeling like Einstein in Geography class for the first time. Dissing at Mantah and screwing his happiness for ditching on my Rakhi gift. Speaking total shit with Remya in the library pissing the midget Librarian off and figuring and completing each others sentences (which can be very creepy,yes.) Laughing on Diggy's gross hairy chest. Maintaining the chain cycle of obsession with Guina,Rem and Vanta. Missing the Khandelwal sisters whenever I heard anyone nag about the miseries of life. Making Robin ditch every Biotech class just to laze around with me for endless hours in the school campus.

So yeah. Vague moments, amazing, exhilarating, ecstatic simple memories.

Very simple, but gorgeous memories :)
- Go CHILL.
Nil :)

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

A neat boy.

 A neat boy.

You know when they say, the person you fall in love with reflects in some ways, the man your father is? I never quite agreed. The thought of seeing traces of my father in my lover was revolting and I never entertained the thought for more than the second is crossed my mind.
Now,though... Now that I look at him from a distance, I realize what they said was almost true. Now, that we hesitate to cross the same paths again, or meet gazes again, while my father is observed at home by me every day, I see the subtle similarities..

The temper, the sense of humor, music, the lean structure in youth, the charming ways of brewing romance, the arched flying eyebrows of curiosity, the mischievous smile,the shy smile,the pride.... But then again, there are roaring differences. The ego, the irrationality, the immaturity, the insecurity, the spineless liar in him.. Now, that I look at him from an unbiased parallel world, I see all the cross and naughts,  the flaws, the qualities. I look at him, I look through him now.

My father was particularly fond of him. "A neat boy!" is what he said,cheering his glass of whiskey. Then again, the cult of entering the college of my Father's was another boastful moment for Him and my father. "The legacy is in good hands!", my father laughed on a Sunday brunch while he sat across the table, talking Politics with my Father.

When He told my father he wanted to marry his daughter soon, the day he got his first job, my father puffed another cloud of smoke from his pipe and patted on his back. A glisten of pride and comfort in his eyes. My father invited him for drinks that night, I remember. And my drunk father cried that night, almost threatening him to never break my heart. I had to take him to his room, and he had to put the blanket on his feet. My father still shivered.

On my Graduation Day, my family and his sat together applauding standing half up from their seats when my name was announced. I sent both the men of my life flying kisses from the stage, I was a bold girl. My father beamed and he blushed when his mother and his mother-in-law playfully hit him on his back.

And the day I got my first job, we drank up a bottle of wine. Without my father, without my mother, without his. Just us both. He opened a bottle of Vodka then, which gradually led to two more bottles which he almost gulped down, he drank with a glint of desperation. He stroked my face, pulled away the lose curl of hair behind my ear and muttered how long we'd come along. How my oval face was the noor of his life. How my Feminist side was sexy. How my hot-headed self made him laugh in adoration and bow down in respect to my opinionated personality. But he also told me how he needed some space, some time. How he was switching jobs to another country and that he was going to enter another lifestyle. How my father overwhelmed him. How my opinions clashed so much with his. How we wanted different things in life. How.... how it seemed like all the perfection in our lives led him to believe that there was some more life he needed to discover, and that he didn't want to stop just yet.
I asked him to take me along.
He said the imperfection would start with my absence.

And so, I gave it to him. I told him to go kiss the world and have all the imperfection in the world.

"So?" he said, almost like a gurgle, intoxicated by the next bottle of wine, "So will you be waiting for me to come back?" 
I blinked at him; "What?" 

He smirked; "I said, will you be waiting for me to come back? Waiting with your father?" -- I felt slapped.

He was nothing like my Father. He could never be. For he laughed at bonds and ties. He laughed at the honesty in them. He laughed at me. He always laughed in the inside, and held up a straight face on the outside.

When he was gone for good, I asked my father; "A neat boy?"
He smiled sadly; "He was a Vodka neat! Baah! I'd rather a man! A Whiskey Neat boy'eh!" 

He could never be like my father.
Because my father could smile with sad eyes, and speak the truth. While he, he began with lies even with alcohol burning down his tongue. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~****~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(And hopefully with that, the Writer's Block spell is broken!) Awaiting your feedbacks as always,
-Nil.

Friday, August 5, 2011

Shit. Scrap that,Awesome shiz.

Remya asked me to write bullshit on my blog to get over the brutal Writer's Block my neurons seem to be entertaining very well,lately. So don't tell me I didn't warn you, but this post is going to be useless, pointless with a whole lotta shit :]

Fact: Loving the weather.
Fact: High on Cokestudio and Porcupine Tree all the time.



LAST MONTH WAS CRAZY. Downright,bluntly, starkly naked CRAZY. Starting from the sexiest Seventeenth I could wish for, to the month loooong dance rehearsals for Cohesion (which we didn't win,btw.. but heyy best memories ever. Ever, ladies and gentlemen.) Then the Open Day which was the best in all the 14 years of school, with the insanest band around and all my lunatic sweethearts dancing on my head and around :-) Theeenn. The Bombshell. WINNING CLOUDBURST 2011 with the band after singing Sweet Child O'mine! The fireworks in my heart when I was up there on stage, fearless, and singing out loud. Looking at the boys playing their stuff (Mantaah,sweet littul chote, you were sucha bomb!) not to mention having nice laughable chats with lavar Remya on stage while the song was on =P
And the Month ended with Shivvii my love's Birthday (Updated baby, you're always up on priority list even if I forget while posting bullshit :-* BUDDAY LETTER still due. Iloveyou. xoxo) and Rob's birthday and a whole week worth of efforts successful after seeing his reaction when he saw his gifts :") And then last night was his much planned and awaited Birthday Dinner for which two retards (read:Us) were seen on the streets of C.P at ten in the night falling and hopping all over the place with hats on looking as shady as ever and loud laughter!

Did I mention school started with Macro Econ? Not that you care. Also, I think I'm going to be obsessed with Hats for the rest of my life. Also, I never knew how awesome the CAFE 1 in CP is. Must.Go.Again.
Did you know it's my favorite season of the year? Also, that I've been pretty obsessed with green and orange? And that I'm going for a poetry competition this 10th? And that I've actually started going to school on Saturdays? And that I'm secretly depressed about school coming to an end?

I'm turning into a nerd,did you know? The regular weekend parties with my ladies/boys are coming to an end. Eeeslowwly. Because I want to study. :|
This weekend, I plan to sit at home and sleep. And then study. Then sleep. Then go for chai. And then study again. And then show up at school on Monday. I'm turning boring but I'd love that for the next six months, cause I really don't think I can handle the paranoid side of my parents anymore that's come up ever since those beetches of cutoffs came out this year.

I've been reading The Kite Runner and have also been managing to cry like a baby every two chapters. Khaled Husseini is one man who's described Afghanistan, friendship and human emotions like no other writer I've read till date has. In the simplest of words and the plainest of expressions, this man has been able to give me goosebumps with every dot completing a sentence.

On an irrelevant note, Breaks in school are insane fun! Actually School in general is awesome fun now! The retarded group (which has ten people,I just counted) has a new tagline that's yelled out every once in fifteen minutes.

"S***!""P****!" ---> Censored stuff. Children, refrain from deciphering :-)

Also, our School's new P.E teacher is a prick. And we've lovably named him something highly hilarious and versatile which if modified into sentences will make you roll on your back with aching laughter till you pass out.

And now that I've mostly ranted utter crap in this whole post,I feel much better :) The Writer's Block seems to be a stubborn one, so warning you already,I might be back with another round of bullshit. Like how Rem and I practice British abuses or how Vanta and Guina are retarded.
Till then all of ye,
quit staying indoors while the god's are generous, go out, play some in the rain :)


I'll enjoy a warm cuppa coffee now,
cheers..
Meet Bagwati :)
-Random, Nil.


P.S-I'm awesome.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Happy Birthday you Mantal The Bwoyyy!

I'm writing this because I want to. Because you did what you do best for my birthday,and so I plan to do the same. Write.

I've never written anything for you,cause it's always been very retarded and macho little tactics by which we expressed our care and concerns for each other, but today I can't help but tell you honestly just how amazing you are. And just how strong a hand you've been when my feet were feeble and vulnerable.

We've known each other since we were in our diapers, when rattles and teddy bears were cool. (They never were for me,though). Then came the time when we were still toddlers,new to Nursery school, sharing the same bus stop right outside your house when we (okay,I) used to cry when the bus got late. I still remember how beautiful Autumn looked in that bus top of ours :-) Back then,the end of the world were crayons and plasticine clay,when every little boy and girl in school would roam around cutely holding hands and teachers wouldn't have a problem with them. (What shit man? that's where it all bloody starts from!) Then came the Phase of Grade 1-4 when every boy hated every girl and wanted to rip each others throats off for the others' existence.  Then came Grade 5-8 when the awkwardness decreased and the opposite sexes at school started appreciating (and enjoying) each others company, and then came Grade 9-12. When there were best friends, romances, fights, pairing, jokes, nostalgia- ALL around school.
But the strange part is, in all these years of various phases, we've been around somewhere, lurking near each other making our presence very subconscious. We lived our lives in very different ways, met very different people, had insane experiences and walked with parallel but different thought processes.. But haven't we been around,all the time? :-)

The perpetual Ice Creams you keep hiding in my letterbox to cheer me up, the annoying habit of  keeping your phone on Silent Mode, the eye-roll you give me every time I say "Robeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenn...." indicating I had the most dangerous plan in mind which you'd eventually have to join, the way your solution to every problem is "Let's go grab a beer at Spinz", the late night sneak outs for Chicken Lolipops, hitting the mall at 9:30 am to just watch a movie, the way you stand in the corridor every morning in school and peek nervously at me when I enter to check if I'm on my Blues or not and then laugh cause I always am, and the 'Macho' way you try to act when I get all senti, and your absolutely EPIC msgs when you're drunk.
.....and most recent of all, and definitely the one memory that'll never fade- the way you quietly came and sat next to me on the aisle during COHESION when my group didn't win.
I need you to know, that you've been one of the few faces that have honestly helped me sail through like a breeze when times and people tried to break me down.

I need you to know that what I have with you are the memories that make me smile every time I hit a dark mood, and honestly, I thank my stars for having such a retard like you around who'd calm me down when I'm hyper and frantic (which is actually all the time.) You've been an amazing friend. A friend I can never do without.
I could write a whole hundred pages and that wouldn't be enough of the crazy times we've had together and as you say- 'Our Epicness with a Hat and a Feather' won't end.

 Happy Birthday,Rob.
This one's for you.. Cause you were there when most left.

haha remember this crazy night?


-Love always,
"Mantal The Chashmeesh the Gurlzz" :-P

P.S- Bas bohot bhao de diya, ab corner mein jake tatti karle. ;)