Ramblings...

Its almost midnight...I'm home...Pink walls..lampshades...mirrors...Music as usual...

My gtalk blinks with irrelevant unwanted messages..."Instablogs:Latest News"..."Best Forwards of the Year"..."Date with Kylie Minogue"...

I wanted a lazy Saturday ...But I was out for almost the entire day...My day started with usual coffee... mailbox...music...resolutions to clean my room and not living up to it...

930 am...North Calcutta with baba: The cab made its way through the bylanes and cobwebbed alleys...Red brickwalls...narrow lanes... porticos...the colonial hangover... the vintage smell...North Calcutta was waking up to a bright sunny Saturday...Smell of tea wafted from the streets...

An occasional halt near College Street- the hub of quintessential book lover and bearded antels... It took its turn around Shovabazaar... amidst snazzy hoardings Shovabazaar still retained the charm of its palatial mansions...

Passed through Boubazaar lined with the jewellery shops ...noted for their exquisite craftsmanship...And finally crossed Surya Sen Street with its ever crowded Putiram that reminds me of my college days and my regular excursions to Boi para...

The grand old Medical College on one end of the road has special memories for me...I often came here with Maa...I was a kid back then when Ma pointed out to a staircase in Medical College and said..."Oi dekh...oikhane Saptapadi-r shooting hoechilo"...I watched Saptapadi much later... The movie still reminds me of that staircase...

My cab got stuck near Amherst Street...Amherst Street and Mahatma Gandhi Road is lined with surma and band party shops... Mehboob...Roshan ... famous band parties of yesteryears... these musical groups clad in the brightest of colors--red , green, orange, performed in various social gatherings back in 18th and 19th century... However with music systems flooding the market, the melodious memories of the band party are almost extinct...Their dusty old drums, trumpets, saxophones, clarinets still echoes the musical melodies of "Le Jayengey Le Jayengey...dilwale dulhaniya le jayenge" or "Meri Pyari Bahenia banegi dulhania"...

Baba stayed in a rented apartment in College Street during the 70s...He showed me the buildings, streets, sweet shops he frequented...Nostalgia had draped us all over...

I came back home...I got a haircut today though it looks almost the same...

Around 4...I headed for Esplanade...Located in the hub of Calcutta, Esplanade still manages to reflect the ancient charm... The Cottage Industry building and the palatial Oberoi Grand overlooks the city's busiest area... During the days of Warren Hastings, Esplanade was considered as the promenade for ‘elegant walking parties’.

From Dostoevsky's Idiot to Nike shoes to Kashmiri shawls to ornate photoalbums, Esplanade is the hub of all confused tourists, aimless travelers and the shopaholics....

Years back when I was a kid I walked through these streets tagged along with my folks...We went to New market quite often...I still remember the name of a shop called Strawberry...My fashion statement in those years was largely dominated by this brand...

My sister was a cricket fanatic those days...Whenever the huge tourist bus carrying the cricketers stood in front of Oberoi Grand...she jostled with the crowd to get one glimpse of Imran Khan or Viv Richards...I joined her too...I pushed the crowd...tried to make way for her...But back then I really had no clue about Imran Khan or cricket!

During my college years I used to visit Esplanade during film festivals for that quick matinee show in Globe or New Empire....

It was evening in Esplanade...The sepia toned streets in front of Oberoi stretched towards the flyover... lined with usual cabs, busy pedestrians and cars...I hopped into one of the them..."Camac Street jaben dada?"

I do not have any memories about Camac Street...I never knew about Camac Street before college...I discovered Pantaloons and West Side much later in my life...However Coffee Pai in Camac Street was one of my favorite place...They made a special coffee with brownie, cookies and ice cream...

I dont like Camac Street much...The smell of Paw Bhaji, Bhelpuri and pop corns, somehow adds to my disgust...and may be the crowd...it makes me claustrophobic...

My day ends with Forum Elgin Road...A snazzy shopping mall in the heart of the metropolis... The MAC counter with glamorous sales personnel...The Burberry perfume counter eagerly waiting for your response, "Perfumes Ma'm"...Lakme counter promise that perfect make over for you...Shopper's Stop ...airconditioned...moderately crowded...Levis mannequins posed to perfection...The line of eateries in Burpp which exudes a strange smell...Its a combination of Dosa meets Kebab meets Manchurian...

Its 830....I'm walking out of Forum...My day almost ends here..I'm feeling sleepy...

I'm back home...had dinner....and my regular dose of reality tv...And yet another day ends amidst memories and moments...

...

And then it was November... the crisp autmn wind kissed her face and stray strands of brown hair... She was walking down the empty street...busy creating a collage... a collage of images... reflections..

She loves this time of the day.... she ponders over every little conversation, moments, time that passed by... words that she loved... moments she wished she could wipe away...moments that she will cherish forever...

The image of the overdressed woman in the elevator...screaming managers... the shy new entrant... the glass highrise... the sound of the keyboard... chat windows...messages...phone calls...lunch boxes... onsite, offshore, promotions...projects..clients...headfones with the same music over n over again... restroom gossip...smiles... glances...

It was just a few minutes back...she was a part of all this... and now she is on her way home.. dust kissed shoes... smell of wild flowers...unfinished concrete structures... she was alone...away from the usual histrionics...

Yet another day ends in her life... another collage of innumerable images and reflections ...another walk down this road... she looks back... the overbearing highrise stands far behind in the middle of nowhere...

Theres an emptyness all around...theres a void deep inside... wish she could give words to it...

"I rent a room and I fill the spaces with

wood in places to make it feel like home

but all I feel's alone...

It might be a quarter life crisis or just the stirring in my soul

Either way, I wonder sometimes

about the outcome

of a still verdictless life"

...

Office looks dull and empty...my cubicle is deserted...The skyline looks beautiful from this 10th floor highrise...I'm sipping the tasteless coffee... the usual sounds of the keyboard around...

I unlocked my treasure chamber today...It makes a weird screeching sound everytime...Guess its old like me...

A boquet of white flowers gently stacked inside... the flowers have almost withered... the white petals have turned pale with time...the leaves almost yellow and crisp...the white satin ribbons that carefully wrapped the roses looked greyish...I look at them often... I touched them like everyday...White roses from Scarbrique... a small town somewhere in Europe...


A boquet of white roses....Roses that smelt of lonely nights,teardrops, love and longing...it smelt of moments that were lost long back in the passage of time...it smelt of moonlit nights on a deserted beach...of footprints washed away by the waves of time...moments treasured...moments of eternal wait...moments of an inevitable end...

The girl who sits in my cubicle received these flowers a month back from a far away friend...She never took them home... She stacked them in my cupboard...
I don't really know how it feels when someone sends you flowers.... but these white roses will be special always...

Fair n lovely

"Mirror, Mirror on the wall...who' s the fairest of them all?" the mirror replied: "You, my queen, are fairest of all"---

Rini stood under the shower... Water dripped from her face washing the traces of eyeliner that kissed her pan caked face... Her heavy Bangalore silk lay crumpled on the floor... The black satin petticoat was thrown on the bed...Rini had tried her best...She had put on a layer of compact on her dusky skin to make it fairer...She had worn the puffed blouse to make her look more fuller and the high snazzy stilletos to make her more taller...

They carefully scrutinized Rini...They whispered in front of her..."Ektu Kalo"... They checked her petite structure: "Boddyo Roga"..."Sareetai bhalo..."

As they left Rini stood in front of the mirror...she looked at her face for the last time... The mirror seemed to laugh at her imperfections... the make up, the grime, the dirt had covered her face... the drops of black tears left their impression on her dusky skin... Her smudged eyes bore the pain of rejection...

She screamed:"Mirror, Mirror on the wall...who' s the fairest of them all?" the mirror never replied...

American Pie

Anasua Sen looked outside the glass window... She looked almost like her...

Manhattan looked beautiful in autmn...The warm rays of the setting sun glittered on the Hudson waterbed... Busy New Yorkers returned to their homes...The Hudson River Park looked beautiful during the fall... Draped in fiery red and orange it is visited by colorful residents as well as their avian friends... Far beyond, the tall skyscrappers kissed the November sky...

Anasua Sen was a Saggitarian... Her father was a history teacher in the local school and her mother a homemaker... First time it was from Baba she heard about America...

America the land of rich, famous and successful...America the land of glitter and sunshine...From her distant cousin Tublu to her neighbor's handsome brother in law all had headed for the West back then...People basked in the glory of their NRI sons and daughters...

Anasua grew up listening to George Michael, Elvis, watching Clint Eastwood, reading Sidney Sheldon... Her favorite subject was American Literature... During her graduation days most of her friends had left for US---GRE, TOEFL, job offers, NRI husbands....

She had an arranged marriage... An arranged 'NRI' marriage.. It started with the usual grilling session... Her parents carefully selected the prospective grooms... Rejection was quite common and expected--Astrological equations featured as the number one rejection criteria... Saturn, moon, sun, mercury all needs to be perfect before the grand Bong wedding...

Anu dressed up everytime..Anu expected everytime...Sarees, bindis, kajal, polished nails, blush on...and she was made to sit before them...From Pickwick Papers to Pabda Shorshe, Hater Kaaj to height... The discussions were endless as the would be grooms and their entourage minutely intersected her...

But Srijit's family was a bit different... Srijit tall, handsome and extremely submissive worked as a software professional in Manhattan...The families liked each other... They married in October... Anu on her wedding night dreamt of Times Square as they made love for the first time...

A week later Anu took the flight to US... At the airport all the teary eyed relatives bid farewell to Anu... As Anu waved her hand from the far end of the busy airport terminal, her father's eyes glittered overbrimmed with moist memories...

Srijit lived in Washington Heights in Manhattan...His apartment was not typically what Anu had dreamt of.. It was a messy studio apartment in Washington Heights... The neighborhood was not quite over friendly...

Srijit was unusually quiet for the first few days...Most of the time, he preferred to stay out of home... Anu felt strange...Everytime Srijit said it was office, work pressure...

It was around 3 months, and after much persuasion, he agreed to take Anu for sightseeing that weekend... Their day started with Empire State Building.. she had heard about this building from Baba, long back when she was a kid... She had asked "Baba ota ki Ranu Pishir barir thekeo boro?"...Her father laughed at her curious innocence... "Dhur boka, Ranu Pishi to chartolay thake!"
Srijit took her to Central Park that day... they visited the grand Belvedre Castle that overlooked the Delacorte... They enjoyed an open air performance at the Delacorte with the Turtle Pond at the backdrop... It was evening, the air was crisp... Anu snuggled in Srijit's arms...but he still seemed lost...

In the evening they reached the glitzy Times Square... The glamor wrapped theater district of the city, draped in neons, giant billboards, snazzy lights... She told Srijit: "Amader Park Street er moton tai na"...Srijit smirked... Anu laughed at her own innocence...

Anu missed home some days... She called up Baba... Her innocent excitement, her loneliness, touched the heart of Mr. Sen, sitting miles away from Manhattan..."Bhalo achis to maa?" was all he could manage to say...

Anu did the grocery, cooking and cleansing... Srijit told her not to explore the area, as it was quite unsafe... Sri used to be out for most of the days and often nights... Overtime at office...His job was quite hectic...

There were days and weeks when he hardly spoke to Anu.. At home he kept to himself... Anu shouted, screamed cried and at the end teary eyed and helplessly lost, she coiled on one end of the bed... She dreamt of home...

Anu sent picture postcards and letters to her family back in Calcutta... She scribbled li'l tit bits on their back...Pictures of Empire State Building, Times Square, Statue of Liberty, cruise photos... Her Baba proudly displayed them to the curious relatives...boasted about Anu's fast lifestyle in US...."Ekhaner moton akdom na" was something they all agreed in unison...

America was truly beautiful.. Glitz, glamor, fast lifestyle, snazzy shopping malls... But Anu was not allowed to step out of the house... There were days when Sri did not go to office... He spent the whole day at home...


Srijit's behavior was strange... He did not allow Anu to leave the house....He was often suspicious, violent and had strange withdrawal symptoms... There were nights when Anu saw the man fully awake and staring at her...There were days when Anu got beaten up...

Anu was scared... Anu felt terribly alone ...Anu called her in laws in Calcutta after 8 months...

Srijit Sengupta was the eldest son of Rajani Sengupta... His father had retired from a clerical job... Srijit had completed his diploma in Computer Science and with the help of an uncle he had headed for the West in search of a job ... He wanted to make it big...The West had lured him like everyone else... Srijit for a first few months worked as a car mechanic, contractual labor, security guard at some skincare company and so on... He was desperate to get a good job but he failed to do so...Back home, the parents unknowingly boasted about their son... Srijit hated to reveal the truth to his folks... He loved this false glory...However his anxieties overpowered his false fantasies...

Srijit came back home during a vacation.. His condition had worsened...He had withdrawn himself into a shell... The doctor back in India diagnosed it as Schizophrenia.... The family astrologer prescribed "a good marriage" as the only way out... Srijit was married to Anu...


It was November... Anu had already applied for a divorce...Their relationship had reached its fag end... Anu had to come back...Her big American dream had died a sudden death...

She sipped her Christmas blend Starbucks coffee for one last time...That evening she went to Times Square... Thousands of people, snazzy neons, glamor and glitter all over... But Anu felt cold and terribly alone....There were strangers all around.. Strangers who were busy...strangers who were a part of this glamor and glitter and strangers who made her realize her isolation every moment...

She clicked pictures beside the neon lit billboards in Times Square that night...The crisp autmn wind was cold... It was her last night in Manhattan...

Its been 3 years or more...Anu works in the US Embassy in Calcutta... She works in the Verfication Department... Everyday she gets to meet a number of newly married NRI women who have applied for their Visas... Their eyes full of expectations and excitement... Innocence smudged in their vermillion smeared forehead...

Srijit Sengupta is in an asylum in Calcutta... He still dreams of becoming an NRI software bigshot...Anu got her divorce, a year back.... Next vacation she has planned to take her parents to Mussoorie... Mississipi does not haunt Anu in her dreams anymore...

But there are some autmn nights when Anu looks at the secretly treasured Times Square photographs... Anu relives that autmn evening, the neons and the glitter, the smell of perfume, black tuxedos, sexy stilettoes, Starbucks coffee... She looks out of her rented apartment in Behala...
The autmn sky looks different... The wind is crisp yet warm...

Errr...

I'm somehow pissed today. I dunno why or may be I know! Just cant bitch about it on the blog. Why do we always have to maintain this"Its Ok" face when nothin is ok...nothin is really working and u still have to say"Ya I'm fine"...

Bunk it...As if I care... But I dunno may be I do , thats why I'm like this...

Its raining outside. I can feel it. I can't see it though.Thanks to the shaded glass windows in my office.... They are sepia toned... Well sepia is my favorite...but right now I hate everything.. everything around me...

My notepad looks terribly silly with different irrelevant faces sketeched all over.....Thanks to my extraordinary artistic skills...
The phone beeps: "Vodafone brings special bonus cards for you!" It seems they will offer bonus cards with extra talktime on my funeral as well...

At the other corner... typically "working hard, dedicated and dont disturb me" kinda looks... God save them from this mundane life...I've seen them bitch and smile too...but thats once in a blue moon...the conversation is so god damn technical...the only thing you can manage to do is smile while you think"God what was that"! Nerds!
I've discreetly opened this document and I'm just keyboarding...I'm desperate right at this moment...I want to talk to someone...No one's available...

Hey but theres something that makes me smile...I have a coffee date in the evening..Barista Blast and brownie with icecream... Thats why someone said something about clouds and silver lining... Well silver lining and brownie!!@# No then make it brown with lotsa chocolate sauce...

Corporate

They come in the best of their formal wear in tune with the latest fashion... Their ears jammed with headfones switching from chartbusters to client calls... They get into the swanky elevators with other tagged professionals... They reach their respective floors, swipe their yellow red blue I cards...
They enter into their snazzy workstations, switch on their machines... Their cubicles decorated with memorabilia that reflects a part of their personal identity, thats the only space to "show off" your personal taste...

Women head for the washrooms.... The touch ups continue... Finally they add the last coat of lipstick and exchange pleasant glances... and another day starts

It starts with exploring the over flooded mailbox... Forwards, junks, irrelevant information, missed conversations, deadlines, failure to meet deadlines, unimportant events and so on...

Then its work, intercepted with regular bitching sessions... These bitching sessions are almost endless... It completes a full circle always--A to B to C and back to A and the saga continues.... What goes around comes around...

Well if you are curious about the subject of conversations well it can range from your appearance, lifestyle, your wardrobe, your personal life to your so called corporate character... Criticism is a stress buster for the modern day corporates... In case you don't criticise, you are way behind the bandwagon... So play on fellows... join the group...

Apart from bitching another game is "mud slinging"... In the middle of a conversation, just spot your prey and make him/her the laughing stock to boost your ego... If your prey is insignificantly submissive, it surely adds to the pleasure quotient... sadistic pleasure? no not at all.....its all about taking a break!

And while doing all this, never forget to blow the trumpets... Shout scream speak... the louder the noise, more easily you will be heard...

Well after the usual sessions of bitching, smirking and over indulgently oiling..Its again back to work and slogging hard... At the fag end of the day as they leave their workstations in their crisp formal wear, they are tired, back to their own lives, exploring the left overs of their personal space...

Exhausted, drained out, unbuttoned shirts, a quick splash under the shower, kohl smudged eyes--- they are all heroes...Bruised and battered heroes borne out of everyday mundane struggle, humiliation, pain, success and failure...Some win, some lose and some give up... but the urge to get to the top continues... the urge to dethrone is carefully nurtured by all of them every single day...

In the end the tired soul, stressed out with the tough battles of life, comes back to its cocoon...

And again yet another day begins amidst airconditioned cubicles, amidst deadlines, amidst the rat race....the heroes fight it out again...