Have you ever begged for something...begged out of your own possessiveness...out of your own desire...out of compulsion of your own emotions...begged to make yourself wanted? have you ever begged helplessly...begged for something which you will never get? do you feel stuck...have you ever cried? felt alone? coiled inside yourself? wanted to speak but didnt have the right words? wanted someone to understand you..the you inside? wanted to hold that hand which was never yours...wanted to reach out but there was emptyness all around...?
where do these thoughts come from? why do we think? I picked up my phone again...thousands of names in the call list...hundreds of texts that filled my inbox...but there was hardly anyone whom I could call...I screamed inside the empty room...the mirrors reflected my helpless insanity...the marble floors wet with unreasonable tears...the room looks blurred now...its almost end of another day...like everyday...

There are somedays, when you feel blank...there's a strange kind of emptyness inside..and its kind of stubborn like me...i dont know...have i lost something?

I have a presentation on Monday...Right now I'm supposed to work on online help and usability ...but as usual I end up posting silly stuff...

I'm really curious that who reads my posts? Do they really understand what I want to say? Does it really matter? My narcissm is getting hold of me again...I'm going through my blog...sulk written all over...

Monday I will be in that room..giant screens...white boards...fat markers...the rectangular table...my colleagues with their questioning glances, busy taking down notes...and me standing on one end of the room...alone... trying to prove myself desperately...what am i trying to prove?

Please do not post your comments for this one...its just one of my weird vent out posts....Guess I'll delete it soon...

...

"We used to walk down by the river
She loved to watch the sun go down
We used to walk along the river
And dream our way out of this town
No one understood what I felt for Mary
No one cared until the night, she went out walkin all alone
And never came home..."
Hazard-Richard Marx

Its almost evening.. pale twilight sneaks into my room...music continues...My bed neatly done...pages of an unread book aimlessly flutters...The mirror with wooden frames reflects the last rays of sunset...The grey shadows kiss the dark walls...

The sky drenched in amber...birds on their way home... shops well lit...street lights glittered, though it was not yet dark...The air had a strange fragrance...it smelled of evening...the crowded streets looked empty...cars moved monotonously on the tarred stetch ahead...Far across the tall highrises blinked in the evening light... crisp air, rusty street lights and a cold evening, draped the city...

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...