A list of mean, shallow reasons to judge men and swipe them left (reject) on Tinder Continue reading Tinder – Let’s Raise A Toast to Shallow
“Our sweetest songs are those
that tell of saddest thoughts”
Our happiest stories are those
that remained unwritten.
You and I are that wonderful story,
like a movie script that never got filmed.
like that rumour going around, a clandestine affair,
a star couple that the fans rooted for,
but which never happened.
We remained unwritten. Continue reading “Poem: Unwritten”
Hello people. A confession, the staying off Facebook / Twitter didn’t really work. Social media platforms are no longer just places to share your thoughts but also to seek information and exchange ideas. This bit was missing when we first started blogging. Back then it was only about sharing. So that’s a learning from this experiment. But the sad part is that the news we are accessing on social media is like not even like .1% of the world. I looked up popular news website, NDTV, TOI, BBC, Guardian.co.UK and you know what i found? Everywhere there are only the same 3-4 … Continue reading The News Sucks And There’s a Femicide in Guatamela
I will be writing this blog through the day, with each update I would send a Tweet and FB update. Continue reading Social Media Existential Crisis – Day 1 of Experiment
Oye Lucky Lucky Oye that Abhay Deol starer film was one of my all-time favourite films. Not anymore for I met a Lucky in my real life.
It happened in broad day light at the Hauz Khas – IIT gate traffic signal, opposite to Essex Farm, amidst a heavy Monday evening traffic and right under the nose of 4 traffic cops posted at the signal.
I was on my way back to my residence in Dwarka after finishing a meeting at the Adchini area. If you know the map of that area you’d know that in order to go to Dwarka or Airport from Adchini which is on your left you have to drive till the signal opposite to Mother’s International School and take a U-turn so that landmarks like Essex Farm, Indian Oil petrol pump or Turcoise Cottage are now on your right. Straight ahead is Hauz Khas and on your left is the IIT gate, you take a free left turn for Dwarka / Airport from this point. Free left turn only if the traffic allows, sometimes it doesn’t. Continue reading “I met Lucky but I didn’t get lucky – Delhi’s Thak Thak Gang’s smooth criminals”
[Part of the Manoshi’s story thread]
Moving on is easy, there is so much work to do. You remain so preoccupied you don’t even have the time to think about anybody or anything. Manoshi certainly had moved on. It was almost a year since he last called. Before leaving Manoshi insisted he returns her book of Oscar Wilde, the one he borrowed long back. She had said with sweet anger, “Dekho, please return my book. I am quite certain we are never going to meet again and then years later I would sing that stupid song ‘mera kuch samaan tumhare paas para hai‘.
A lifetime went by. Passion were in plenty. Heart skipped easy beats, love came handy. Sex came in packages, safety and pleasure guaranteed. A lifetime went by but that kiss on the forehead, that embrace, she never found again. And she still loves the man like a man loves a woman. Continue reading [Poem] Still searching
[Excerpts from a book I am writing]
[Part of the Manoshi’s story thread]
“Always bid strong goodbyes. Don’t stand and stare. Just say goodbye, give a hug and leave.” Prithvi would always say to Manoshi.
But this morning’s goodbye was rather long. They had spent the whole of yesterday’s evening, night and this morning with each other and the purpose of their meeting was to bid goodbye.
Finally, after saying bye to Prithvi, with moist eyes, heavy heart but lighter mind Manoshi got into her car and started to take it out of the parking. She had just put it on back gear and looked up at the rear view mirror when she saw Prithvi in the mirror, walking back towards her car. She shifted the gear back to neutral and rolled down the window glass and wondered why was he coming back. Continue reading “From the Book”
Why don’t we have many such songs or poems? Why is there no female version of a love song like “Chaundvi ka Chaand” or “Chandan sa badan?” In Abhigyaana Shankuntalam Kalidasa wrote verses after verses in praise of Shakuntala’s physical … Continue reading Let a woman sing
Manoshi’s story – the novel in the making. In bits and pieces on my blog for now, and to be in print soon, soon enough. Continue reading Manoshi’s story
I didn’t love him.
I certainly didn’t, for if I did,
there would be a poem for him.
But I didn’t write a poem for him.
I saw his pouted lips and wondered
How would it feel to kiss them?
But I didn’t have a song for his lips.
He is back, The rebel and the artist. He who loves to hate the most. “This fake world” He who is full of angst. “You phony people” He who is so beautiful. She, saw him coming. He, did not see her coming. And, he hates surprises. Continue reading He is back
Lali was born to a homeless mother on a fateful monsoon night in a small residential colony in Panchasayar, Garia, Kolkata.
That night when she realized it was time, she, Lali’s mother silently crawled under the gate of that big mansion, she pulled herself through the green lawn in search of a secure place and finally rested under the big corner window sill. The storm thundered and lightening shined on somewhere in the background as if it was just another rainy night, not knowing that a strange fate was going to befall upon Lali, the yet to be born.
She gave birth to 5 of them.
The gardener’s daughter was all of 6 years and 6 times more naughty than kids of her age. Next morning, the sun was happy and shiny, it was the perfect day for the playful kid. As always, she chased the hens and ducks at the nearby fields, she caught the multicolored dragonfly with bare hands tied their wings with a golden string and made helicopter and airplanes of them. Then she spotted the tiny puppies under the window sill. We don’t know where their mother was.
I wrote this on 23rd July 2007 originally. Am republishing it today with some additional updates and copy editing. Enjoy Technology, Breakup and post break up syndrome in the web2.0 style.
[Note: Men Heterosexual men reading this post may replace the masculine words with feminine to be able to identify with the content. Non-heterosexual women may replace masculine with feminine. The post is inclusive of all gender and sexuality]
In the good old days, when people broke up they used to take a bus, train or plane and leave the city forever, so they won’t ever see each other even by chance. They used to tear off all the diary pages, the snaps, greeting cards and love letters and return all gift items so there would be nothing left in their possession which would remind them of each other. Tech made breakups simpler. Nowadays, you’d just have to hit the delete / remove / unfollow button. I’ll tell you how many times and where.
If it’s a very serious break up and you really don’t wanna see his face ever, I mean never ever, remove him from all your IM clients, Gtalk, Yahoo, Skype, MSN etc. Not just remove but block / ignore him wherever possible. On Gtalk blocking means either of you won’t get to see each other’s availability status. You’d always appear as off line to each other. Sending offline messages also wouldn’t work. On yahoo ignoring an ID means the same thing. That ID won’t be able to send you IMs any more. (But there’s a flip side to this, I’ll come back to it in a while)
He said, “I am ready for love now, even an old fat ugly face will do, I just want to love.” She was not listening. Rather matter of factly she extended her muddy hand and said, “Give me a hand please, the stairs are too steep my height is short, body is fat and knees are weak.” He held her hand, pulled her up and they kissed. Continue reading [Flash Fiction] That old ugly face
This is actually from the archives, published on this blog as two different posts sometime in Aug’05. I am making them into one piece of, something I call a fusion between prose and poetry, a propestry. Yesterday she dreamt she had finally found him. He lived in Mars and she in Venus…he had always seen her over the stars…she had always known him over the galaxies. One day she heard a knock on her doors. There was standing an angel, carrying a message from him to her, a message that was lightened up by the glitz of those million star … Continue reading Yesterday’s dream and Tomorrow’s reality
You did everything, you said. “Got you the moon and the stars; Diamonds and the pearls.” Yeah and you even wrote me songs. I even wrote you songs! You did everything, you said. “Took you to Paris and Rome, holy Ganges and the great wall.” Yeah and you even made me laugh. I even made you laugh! I am so cruel, you said, “What more do you want,” you asked when I said, “something is missing.” And you said I broke your heart, When I left before you woke up. Now driving down I feel, it’s a bit funny … Continue reading [Poem] So we broke up
So the other day Snigdha and I was killing time on Twitter when she came up with some of these really hilarious user instructions and cautionary statements. Here are some of the best ones:
- User instruction on a pack of tampons, “Not to be used for diarrhea”
- On an iron carton, “Do not iron the clothes which is on your body”
- On a pack of noodles, “Edible content inside, not to be used for knitting”
- And this one is my favorite, on a pack of laxatives, “Please apply for casual leave before consumption.”
It all started when I picked up a pack of eggs from Spencer’s. Not just some ordinary eggs, they were ‘tan shell cage free near organic fresh’ eggs by Keggfarms Pvt. Ltd.
I found the pack very amusing so I read every bit of information that was there on it. On the front side were the words,
‘tan shell cage free near organic fresh’ and ‘safe delicious bright yolks.’
On the back of the carton they had mentioned the diet of the hens that laid those eggs which basically contained “high quality maze, rice, derivatives, soya, sunflower, limestone, vitamins and other organic plant materials.”
Human beings going on a jungle safari in a National park is a ridiculous activity. I have been to quite a few of them myself and trust me I am not particularly proud. We go to Jim Corbett National Park … Continue reading Human beings: the funny creatures that we are
The road has come to an end. This is the end of the beginning, and this is the beginning of a new end.
In this road nothing excites me anymore,
nothing makes me happy,
nothing makes me sad.
I feel numb. Comfortably numb.
Oh dammit did you see,
in this road I lost my creativity.
All the emotions I feel are already made into songs,
this Floyd, that Cobain.
The train is now chugging through the hills, going in and out of tunnels every now and then. Manoshi is tapping her foot to the rhythm of a certain song playing on her MP3 player and she is reading a book. There’s no one else in the compartment. As the train entered a tunnel again, she lifted her eyes from the book and stared at the darkness outside the window. A faint smile appeared on her face while she took a deep breathe in memory of the people who just got off the previous station. It was a bunch of … Continue reading Chugging along
A misty winter morning I rub the sleep off my eyes, pull the satin sheets on my naked skin, And roll over to find the warmth of my life. Here we are Two near strangers In each other’s embrace. The warmth of his breath around my fragile heart The strength of his arms Guarding my vulnerable soul. His hair brushing against my face, His feet against my feet, Lips against my lips, Fingers crisscrossed. Love this was not, A little more than lust may be, My few nights’ stand. Lost. Continue reading [Poem] Few Nights’ Stand
Sat morning, cup of Lemon tea, leftovers of last night’s dreams, a faceless lover who made me cry, his touch still lingering. I have woken up Continue reading [Poem] Awake
[Moving on to what I usually write on this blog. I will keep updating the post on Hajra with new information.] A lot of my male friends often tell me, after having broken a girl’s heart, “I always told her there can be no future with me still she had built hope, what to do.” Yeah what to do. Girls build hope. No matter what you say. You know what they think? They think, “Oh he is only saying like that, actually he himself doesn’t realise he is in love with me. But I would love him so much that … Continue reading On Random matters of the heart
Based upon a real conversation between a Crusader and a Cynic. What makes this conversation interesting is how in the beginning every line manifestation of the two strong willed characters both sounding confident and convincing in their respective point of views and by the end you see a reversal of roles which contradicts the earlier manifestation. One wonders what these people really are and what are they trying to achieve in life. Cynic: You read Aamir’s new post, on his decision to run with the Olympic torch? I heard Kiran Bedi also saying the exact things Aamir wrote in his … Continue reading The Crusader and the Cynic
Oh dear, oh that smile again. Now don’t worry, hang on there, hold it tighter. But I can’t, can’t control. It just won’t stay, my stupid heart, slipping away. Don’t, you fool, head for a heartbreak, Don’t you remember how it aches. Yes but that red rose, and that blue ribbon, oh those green valleys? Bubbles! All bubbles all around you. Splash! And there it went, the heart, dived in the hollow, which love she calls. Love you fool is a bubble, I say. A few sad poems is all that will stay. Continue reading Love song
They spent their whole lives together, living every moment hating each other, kissed by suspicion, obsessed with jealousy, possessed by ego, they never let go of each other for a day, never stayed out of sight lest they missed an opportunity to crib about each other, poison ivy they both were, each other’s soul mates. Continue reading Really short story
After writing this blog for 3 years, having dedicated myself to it like a mother to her child, I have been told that my blog is an orphan. Out there under the technorati skies, amidst the busy blog traffic, moves about my blog my baby barefoot with no one to feed her or provide her with shelter. Not any more though, here I am claiming this blog as MY blog. It so happened that I saw traffic coming to my blog from Technorati. Got curious, track backed the links and landed up in the search factory of Technorati. What I … Continue reading Claiming my blog
It was some kind of event, but I don’t exactly remember what. I was with a group of people and we had all gone for an adventurous hiking through some exotic locales. There were wild animals, pretty flowers, nice people.
I knew I was going to meet him on this journey. I just knew it. And I was right, there he was, just as I had imagined him.
I wrote this poem some time in 2005. Reposting this again with some polishing. She was walking, searching, A little girl with a dream, a song, a smile and a bright red balloon. She was searching for a post, Where she could tie, the strings of her precious balloon. She had colors all around, Had rainbows, The sky above was blue ground beneath was green. She was walking, searching, The path became rough one day, the last stretch of grass was past she was still smiling and walking. This she knew, if she doesn’t find a post, the string would … Continue reading She was walking, searching
My love visited me last night Glad I am he did. “I missed you my love,” said I. Everything I ever had, I’d let them go. Of all the things let gone, it’s only my love that kept coming back. Last night he came again, took me in his arms, led me to the place we’d make love. A small cluttered place it was. I couldn’t see anything. Couldn’t hear either. Could barely move, I curled up to fit in. Curled and shrunk was I, inside that cold dark silence. Outside, they were looking for me. “Where are you”, “come … Continue reading Savage Love
I, Snig and the gang are planning to celebrate the coming holi with lots of fun and frolic. One of the main item on the celebration agenda is to prepare the traditional Gujia for all. Gujia reminded me of writing this post. Holi, is the festival of colors, some blue (sad) some green (envy) and some purple (melancholy), not all colors are happy colors you see. This is a piece I actually wrote last year on the day of Holi, late at night when all the colors were over. Last year also I and Snig made Gujia and this piece … Continue reading Holi: Then & Now
Catalogue for wedding cards. That’s right I came across this awesome series of wedding card designs on India Together. Are you getting married soon or are arranging a marriage for your siblings or children and want to say no to dowry in an elegant and noticeable way? India Together has a simple and no-cost solution for you. Our D-Free wedding card catalogue. Wedding invitations that inform people far and near can be a powerful tool to give prominence to one’s concerns against dowry. A D-Free wedding card can be used in weddings that do not involve any dowry. Launch … Continue reading Dowry Free Catalogue
Even if I have accomplished everything in life, even if every reason to exist in this world ceases, I would still live, to see, how does it feels to get those roses, chocolates, gifts and wine from a valentine. wonder Just how long would that be. Continue reading Valentine Thought
Originally uploaded by samyukta_basu Just there, where I want to be, is where I want to go Is what I can see. Continue reading Floating colors
Sunset Originally uploaded by samyukta_basu Faint is the light Dim is the hope Cold is my love Dead is my dream Yet I would stand For so long as river flows I would stand to see where do all the lovers go Continue reading Sunset
When Mr. Das found his wife at BCB5 he decided to adopt his wife’s best friend too…me. Well, I say “he adopted” and he says “aap to dahej mein aa gaye ho” whatever, doesn’t matter, I found a second home that’s what is important. We used to call Mr. Das’s wife as Lappu in school for some reason I just don’t remember. That Lappu joined the 30s bandwagon today…Yipiee…Happy Birthday Snigs, from now on till 39 it’s the same difference…(and she is all set to kill me for disclosing her age) Snig’s 30th birthday kicked off watching the last few … Continue reading Happy Birthday Lappu
It was a cold December night. She was lying on the bed with her arms stretched casually across the emptiness of her bed. Suddenly she felt a warm touch upon her palm. Someone held her hand, someone warm and tender, some one she never expected would hold her hands. His fingers then criss crossed with hers and he pulled her close to his warm body. She could hear his heart beat. And for the first time in her life she could feel her own heart beat too. She planted a soft kiss on his forehead while he held her tighter. … Continue reading The empty bed
Breaking News. Parents in the Indian metropolis seen marching on the street with placards reading, ‘billi bachao’1 The main reason of protest is the emerging trends amongst their wards to feed billis with milk, whenever wherever they feel like. They often don’t let parents scrutinise the quality or source of the milk. Milk from unreliable sources are injurious to the social health of the billi and its kith and kin. Their demand is the enactment of a law to establish a system of granting licence to feed the billi with milk. The said license can be granted by Government, Courts … Continue reading Billi Bachao Andolan
Manoshi. An enigma, an illusion, a deception, an orgasm, a thought, a dream, a void. This is Manoshi’s story. Don’t know where to start though. You see, I have a curse. I know everything about everybody. It’s a curse to know all, I am telling you, it’s a curse. Above all it’s a curse to know Manoshi and still be in love with her. Honestly, Manoshi comes across as a loser. She is 30, single. A maiden experience of sexual intercourse, in her 29th year with a guy she never really liked much, saves her from being ostracized as a … Continue reading In love with Manoshi – An Excerpt
The much awaited 4 day weekend is to end in couple of hours. Here’s another of my “This weekend” post. This weekend I realised how comfortable I have become in being alone on my own. I don’t feel bored any more, I don’t mind not talking to anybody for the whole day. I don’t mind not going out anywhere for the entire weekend. I am so calm inside all of a sudden. In fact, to my surprise I realised unsolicited phone calls and other means of displaying interest in me has finally become annoying. So it was very confusing and … Continue reading This weekend
Part III – Marriage She was taking typing classes, And looking for a job, when, a well wisher got a matrimonial alliance. “This guy at his 30, Central Government Clerk At Income tax department Good salary. Good catch I tell you”. Said he. “Yeah, this poor almost orphan child would get a shelter, What more can we seek.” Said her Aunt. She was 21 then. So, they never saw each other. She was confident, he’s another cruel man like father. Given the kind moustaches he adorns, Must be a political goon of the CPM. She was a romantic, though she didn’t … Continue reading Part III – It’s ‘Her’story not history
Part II : Childhood. Father failed. Married again. She was now the mother of her step mother. And her new born. Both were always ailing. So those were days of troubled childhood, Physical abuse by a cruel father, Brother grew up to join the naxals, Jailed for 2 years in kuddalore, came out a weak and fragile soul. School was finished empty stomach College she could never reach. Her dad won’t pay for her fees. She Regrets and repents, “Why didn’t I sell off the gold chain” “Why didn’t I steal.” Out of school, nowhere to go She felt, “this … Continue reading It’s ‘her’story, ain’t history
Mom is cursed with this Chinese curse, “May you live in interesting times”. She has been living a life which only gets interesting by the day. From her childhood to this day Mom has been on a roller coaster ride. Pain, trauma, agony, ecstasy, freedom, laughter, frustration, win, loss, love, romance she has seen them all, felt them all and yet she hasn’t grown a day older. She still is a 5 year old silly child. I scold her often for being the way she is, she gets annoyed and we end up having a fight. Our fights are real … Continue reading It’s ‘her’story, ain’t history
This blog is getting a lot of traffic off late and I feel stressed trying to live up to reader’s expectations and maintain the overall quality. One of the causes of worry is that I don’t know what exactly people like about my blog. JD Salinger’s protagonist from ‘Catcher in the Rye’ once said, he liked reading those books the most where he felt he could call up the author as if the author was his buddy and discuss the characters and events in the book. Perhaps that’s what people like about this blog. Given that it mostly is a … Continue reading Mom and Dad are separating
You give a cold shoulder, cease to care. you do not answer or return calls, sms, mails. You act rude, stay unmoved, You break heart, cause tears. All because You were busy Reading Harry Potter? ——————————– If you just said this is not poetry…go ahead say it. Continue reading I hate Harry
29, Female, Divorcee having affair with 25 Male:- do you know what song’s playing in my mind, “Bade Acche lagte hai, yeh dharti, yeh ambar, yeh raina, aur tum…” [They all feel so good, the earth, the sky, the night and you] 30, Female, Forever Single friend:- Huh, stupid mushy song. Song I am listening, “dham dham dharam dhadaiya re, sab se bada ladaiya re, Omkara…” [Hail Ho there, the greatest of all fighters, Omkara] Continue reading 29 female divorcee and 30 Single Forever – Our songs
I want to tell a story, the story of Alice and her unique smile. One day, Alice was singing and dancing in her little world when suddenly an intruder broke in. Alice was surprised to see him, she also didn’t like being disturbed, “what do you want?” She snapped at him. He said, “I have come in search of smile”. Alice thought that is simple. She has plenty of them with her. So she said, “Alright I will give you some smile but what will you give me in return? At this the intruder laughed out loud. Then he raised … Continue reading Alice and her unique smile
Drift The yacht on the horizon the last leaf the last ripple the flickering flame the last faded echo one last song, and drift bit by bit. © Sanjukta ———————————- Kabhi Kabhi mere dil mein yeh Khayal aata hai Ke gar yeh khayal na hota to kaisa hota Wrote these lines last night, with some one in mind, and he thinks I am kidding. Continue reading Drift