Monday 24 September 2012

Maggie: I will love you forever

I dreamt last night for the first time in ages. It was so sad. I saw Maggie. I think I've been thinking about her a lot lately, because I remember the image of the dog vividly and I remember having seen it a lot recently. She was beautiful as usual; large endearing eyes..........quivering with water............. brown and limpid....... a nose wet..... and moist...... and cold, and her Blue Rhone coat.

I may be delusional but.....I know I saw her. She padded towards me slowly and stood still in expectation of a petting. My beautiful baby girl. I scratched her under the snout; there is no one who could deny her love. It was so easy to love her, easier than loving my family.

I saw ticks in her fur. I moved my hand and there were like 7 ticks or bed bugs (some kind of blood parasite) on my hand. I shook them off, pulled them off, flicked them off, all in a state of panic. Two of them had bit into me and though I know ticks can't really manage to suck the blood out of people (except maybe cow ticks) (cause our skin is thicker than a dog's) they'd managed to penetrate into my skin in the dream, and as I pulled them out they took flesh with them and the small wounds started to glisten with blood.

I started to back away from Maggie. My poor baby. She didn't understand, and it wasn't even her fault. She moved towards me; she just wanted to be petted, to be loved and adored and comforted for a minute. But I backed away from her, pushing her away, and got up to my feet.

And then I woke up......... with my heart in my throat. It was such a miserable miserable start to the day. I lay in bed thinking about her. It's a good thing I don't cry easily......but I miss my baby girl so much. My sweet puppy girl!! My happy loving girl. I don't think I would've ever pushed her away if it hadn't been a dream. I wish I could hug her now and hold her tight,  and stroke her head and smell her fur, maybe even kiss her nose.

When she died, it broke my heart.

I miss my kind baby girl. I realized today that I love her still. I hope she knows I always will.    


Monday 4 June 2012

Staying Up to watch The Queen's Diamond Jubilee Concert

It's almost 4 am here in India and I'm still up because I was up watching The Queen's Diamond Jubilee Concert.
I didn't like all the performances but I did enjoy it overall.

I'm a little envious not to be in London now, when there's a party going on. Mum's got no work all week because they're all celebrating.
*Sigh. I wish we had something like that. Oh wait, we do. PUJAS!! And they're coming :D.

Anyway, I heard the end of this wonderful song, and I couldn't knock off without hearing it again. It's Ed Sheeran's "Little Lady." When I heard it, my heart stopped. It's so lovely, though I think it's about drugs and prostitution and that the world is a cold place where good no longer survives.
Beautiful song though.

I loved Tom Jones, Shirley Bassey, Elton John, Stevie Wonder and Paul McCartney as well.

But nothing, and I mean nothing, compared to fluttering heartbeat I felt when I heard Sheeran end that song. I can only imagine what my face looked like.

Though this may be disrespectful, Queen Elizabeth is a tiny thing, and she's very composed, like all the time. She didn't even laugh at her son's jokes. Well, maybe one or two, like the one about the weather. But i guess at her age even I'd be too tired to laugh at every joke those comedians cracked (most of which, mind, weren't all that funny).
On the whole, the Royal Family's really cute. And I'm so glad they have, for the most part, a good sense of humour. You could see 'em singing along with some of the performers, waving union flags and they stood up when some of the older, revered artists took the stage.

A fat guy took the stage in some kind of royal uniform (all in red with a spear and skirt) and played a recorded tape of "We Are Family" for THE ROYAL FAMILY, which was really fun to watch. But, I think most of all, I enjoyed Prince Charles' speech. It was sweet, funny, simple and genuine.

Apparently, Paul McCartney asked the Queen if they were going to do it again next year and she said, "Not in my garden." That's hilarious.    =D     ^ ^  

The Asses I Call Friends

At the beginning of the year, these girls barely spoke to one another. After I got back, I spent so much time with them, talking to them, bringing them together and building up their self-esteem.
Now a few weeks after the beginning of my AS examinations, I feel the knife lodged somewhere in the proximity of my lumbar vertebrae.

Debu had a play today. It was a MAD play, so I didn't really want to go. But I thought I'd like to meet up with the girls. First red flag of treachery, not one of them but Ankita told me about it.

I messaged them all today and none of them replied until after 4 pm. Conveniently late enough considering the play started at 6pm. My throat is dry from the anger. I wish I could cry like any normal person. But no, I bottle it up like an implosive/explosive anger management basket case.

Second red flag of the day: Rit says Yes. That's it. Doesn't ask me if I'm going, or if she wants to go together. Nothing. The others?? Ankita, this time, doesn't reply. Mo says she's going with Tix, and C's going with Rit, Sohini and some other guy....can't wait for me cause they've all reached and they're going to go together. My going along would of course upset their ridiculous plans of travelling together in a fucking cab. I don't know or see how, but, it would. Plus, with 45 minutes left before they have to be at the show it makes complete sense to rush and leave a 'friend' behind.
Mo CAN'T go wimme cause she's going with Tix???? I mean dafuq??? I know Tix too. I could very well just tag along. I wouldn't do this to them!!!!

Fair weather friends indeed. I always knew I had terrible friends. My dad's told me, my brother's told me, I think Mumma may have mentioned it as well. That's why Mumma doesn't keep friends; she keeps contacts. I'm beginning to see the sense in that.

Third red flag of treachery: I call C and she tells me she's almost reached and they can't wait for me cause they're almost all already there (how that is a reason, I don't know), gives the phone to Rit who just tells me to go to Minto Park......hoping I'll get lost on the way and just never turn up.

I'm so tired of being treated badly. And I don't have a single nice friend around anywhere. Except Debu. He is outstanding. In fact, Neel, Debu, Ankit, Rahil and Avra are all pretty fantastic. But there is the obvious part that they're all guys and they're just being nice to me cause they think I'm pretty. Either way, I prefer them to those bitcheffing girls anyday!!

I'm gonna go finish my CV now. Because I need to start taking care of me.
Ohhhh, wait, Salome is a great girl friend. She's just gets jealous and angry super easy super fast. I wish she wouldn't introduce me to her guy friends if she won't call me for weeks after. -.-

Sunday 3 June 2012

Freundschaft Baendchen Zu Machen

When we were in Germany, one of the Betreuerins would spend time in the evenings teaching us how to make these amazing friendship bands with like embroidery or craft thread. I was rummaging through some old stuff yesterday and I came across the album in which I'd put the bands.

When I'd made, I'd felt so fulfilled, and they were so pretty!!! So, I just looked up a website that gives tutorials on how to make those bands. *Sigh. I'm gonna take it up as a micro-hobby and make a bunch of different kinds and give them to my friends :D, (or keep 'em).......(or sell 'em).

I haven't felt this excited in a long time. I'm going out to pick up some craft/embroidery thread right now. I hope get some. If I can I'll put up some pictures of them later.

I was up till 6 a.m. yesterday working on my CV and I talked to Debu today about how to make it better. I think I'll ask him to proofread it. I intend to finish it today cause I don't want to wait till after my exams are over cause then I'll be struggling to catch up with my Aakash lessons. -.-

I'm using tabular forms for my CV. I might ask Ratna mashi and Mummy to take a look as well.

And I've been getting this awful feeling like I'm slipping up while other people are getting good at their subjects. Urgh!!  I just so wanna kill the exams, and get it over and done with. 

Friday 1 June 2012

A Golden Sunset in Kolkata and a View of the Street


A Golden Sunset in Kolkata 






HOW BENGALI PEOPLE TAKE CARE OF THEIR HAIR

Pollution in Kolkata 
If you're ever in Kolkata one thing you're gonna notice is how quickly you're skin gets oily and your hair gets dry. I think it's because of climate (tremendous DUH! It's like 40 degrees in summer, and the winter is barely cool now), the pollution and the food (we cook everything in oil :D ). So naturally, it becomes impossible to keep oneself pretty and preened 24/7 (here, at least). With the sweat, and the dirt, and the humidity and the heat, and the stench (not present everywhere, and you get used to it), I don't wonder why people don't bother as much about their looks here as they do in other parts of the world.

Bengali women are renowned for their long hair.
 This picture isn't that flattering though :D
Plus, it's assumed that people who look good here are most definitely unemployed and have very little else to do with their time. Which is a pity.

So, since summer last year I've been experimenting with the products here with some interesting results. And these are my observations with respect to hair care in Kolkata. Again, different people have different needs so what works for me might not work for a bunch of other people. But this is how Bengali people take care of their hair.......and it's amazing :D.

Pretty Indian dancer/actresses 
Like any other culture, Bengali people have a fixed image/notion of beauty. A curvy, voluptuous dancer's figure (preferably Odyssey, cause Kathakali, Manipuri, Bharatnatyam and Kathak aren't that sexy), milk fair skin, big eyes, round face and long, thick, black hair that cascades down to her waist.
I personally think long and short hair can both be sexy; it depends wholly on how the hair complements the face. But the quality of care you take of your hair is imperative, especially in this city, -.- I kid thee not.


Thursday 31 May 2012

Ditcher

I've got my Physics practical exam today. It's a 'bandh' today, i.e. a transport strike today in West Bengal because petrol prices have been hiked, but Mamata didn't condone it, so, naturally, some vehicles are still running, though not many as far as I can tell. Either way, the point is that my exam will be held from 6pm to 8 pm in the evening.

I hope I can get a bus to Hazra in time.

My brother came home today from Salt Lake, suggested going out for lunch, and after I decided I would go with him, his friend calls up and offers to get him invited to a random girl's birthday party. My brother, douche that he is, readily agrees, the friend gets him invited and he's ditching me to go to some random girl's birthday treat. -.-

I'm not really even that mad or surprised, plus I already ordered pizza. :D Still, I hate it when people take other people for granted like that. As if my time or the consideration of my feelings doesn't count. X(
Out of courtesy he should've still offered to come to lunch with me, after which I, out of my infinite benevolence, would've told him forget about it, to go and enjoy himself at some random's place.

But Drona doesn't have courtesy and manners programmed into his system. A free lunch during which he can flirt with girls, not 2 weeks after his break up with his last girlfriend. -.- And he wonders why I think he's lowly.

Mmmmmmm, I hope the pizza doesn't make me hungry. It's almost here.

Wednesday 30 May 2012

Feels Like Odds Are Against Me (not always, just now). I hate me too.

My brother's doing Hotel Management. People in India, stuffy as they are, think it's a meagre degree. But frankly, there's tremendous potential for growth and profit in that industry. He got into college in one afternoon. I could kill myself. -.-

For me the process is very veryyyyyy different. I'm studying AS, and soon A2 material. I'll be applying to USA, UK and Canada and maybe Russia, China and Singapore. I have to research the institutes i like and make a list. Damnit. I have to finish my As exams (currently on), A2 next May-June, SAT's, Toefl, UCAS and study this ginormous syllabus for the Indian Pre Medical Entrance cum Eligibility Test. All by my lonesome self.

Dad's not helping, not even financially as I have been made to understand it. Mum's too far to help, though I doubt it would do any good. I need someone who will help me apply, like a personal assistant with super skills or something cause for the next year I will be spending way too much time studying to do any of this stuff.

Mum's like "just do it, just get into a fantastic institute somewhere abroad. Just get a scholarship and come over to London." I say "okay, I'll try." But what I'm really thinking is, " If it were that easy do you really think I'd need you to tell me that??" The pressure doesn't usually get to me, but like my brother's been butting into my business recently, and that irks me. I feel awful, and very ill of confidence.

It's not just me, this happens to every youth in West Bengal.

I feel so lonely sometimes with noone to whom I can talk. Like today, Dad's gone to Hyderabad, brother's spending the night in Salt Lake, and I'm in a house with 5 other people that I can't talk to (3 maids, a deaf grandparent and a crazy grandparent, 3 of whom I love). I don't want a boyfriend, but in these lonely moments, you can't help but wish there was someone around, someone helpful, someone who actually wanted to help, someone who actually tried to help with more than just words.

Junk food is not affording me any comfort. My Physics exam was crap; I'll probably have to do it again in October/November. I'm so tired of trying to do well. I wish we had a continuous assessment system. I suck at giving exams!!!! It doesn't mean I'm stupid!!!!!!! I wish I were in college already.

I don't even care what kind of college anymore. Anything would do. *Gasp. What am I saying???
I have to remind myself that I'm only working this hard so that I can go somewhere good. Uff, they should give me A's just for appearing for the exam. -.-

Thursday 10 May 2012

Worst time ever today. I had a Chemistry practical exam and i was sleepy so naturally it didn't go well. I wanted some rough paper. I swear to god if they'd given me rough paper I would've been able to finish and get all my answers right.....but now??? If I don't get an A in AS Chemistry it's gonna be because of my damn practical exam. I could cry. I burnt my finger on a test tube as well. And I didn't get a bunch of answers.

I assume I'm gonna have to give the exam again in October- November which I was kind of hoping I could reserve for SAT exams, but Life is luckless for me. I know that the remainder of my exam need to go stunningly but I just can't muster up the will power to get to the books. I feel like rubbish. And it doesn't help that I have literally no moral support system at home. It would've been better if I'd been here completely alone and fending for myself rather than surrounded by 11 apathetic people.

I can't talk to anyone, not even my 'friends', who have other more ridiculous concerns. Sometimes I wish I just got married off. It would atleast mean going somewhere far away from here.
I might not even get into medical college with these marks.
Dhyut!!!

I'm so depressed I'm listening to the original soundtrack of "The Hunger Games."

Saturday 7 April 2012

I have a Muslim friend who is fanatic.
In general I like Islam, I think it's a very scientific religion, very open minded and intriguing, and I have tremendous respect for my Muslim friends all over the world.
But this boy must die.

Not only is he rude, guileless, inconsiderate and rash to judge, he is also incredibly close-minded and mean.

He gets a lot of leeway in class for his bad behaviour because he's Muslim. If anyone is dismissive towards him,  he simply attributes it to the fact that he's Muslim and their prejudice is the root cause of any ill behaviour towards him.

But it's not.

He is Truly FOUL. He's one person I wish would just die.

I was thinking about the things he says while studying and I couldn't concentrate anymore. He's so absurd.
He said that stoning people is alright because it's condoned by the Quran, he said the Quran is right about everything, and that the earth is shaped like an ostrich egg, and that everyone should be Muslim because Muslims are the best.

And if you refute him, even if you don't attack him, because a dilwart like that won't know the difference he'll attack you personally. Undeveloped brain and all that.
So he called me a hijra.
And a couple of weeks later the little fuck's trying to flirt with me.

I knew he was Muslim before I even knew his name.

*exasperated.

I like different religions, they're fascinating. But they shouldn't divide people the way they have in the past.
I HATE IT, I HATE IT when people try to impose their opinions on me. I don't like terrorism, especially when they try to justify it with religion. I don't like polygamy- it's unfair to women. I don't care how he tries to justify it. It's my opinion and he has no right to try to impose his upon me, let alone attack me for it.

I'm not clear about my opinion on capital punishment or the death sentence because there's a lot more to it than what he assumes. What about the morality of the act? Can you really fight violence with violence? What if someone is wrongly convicted????
Stupid idiotic boy just goes around throwing whatever nonsense comes into his head.
And the utter CRAP that he says sometimes.

I asked him if he believed in the theory of evolution or the theory of creationism. He said - "The Quran believes in the theory of evolution." I was aghast. So I thought he'd misunderstood the question so I asked him again. "Which do you think is right?"
And he started attacking me again!!!
"What the difference!!!? What's the difference???!!!! I am Muslim so my opinion should be that of the Quran's."
I've never been so disgusted in my life.
He doesn't have his own opinion. He's chosen to mirror all the opinions in the Quran.
And all the boys in the class were defending him. They were either doing it for fun. Or because they truly believe it.
If it's the latter, they all need a proper education.

People like this boy, this horrible horrible boy, give their religion a bad name, shame their people, and disgrace their culture.

I've discussed religion with many people before.
A healthy exchange of ideas.

But he is incapable of anything healthy.
I wish he'd stop imposing his ideas on every immature brain around him. Religion is fascinating, but it's also supposed to be personal. I wish someone would tell him to keep it that way. He makes me sick.
  

Thursday 22 March 2012

The cold of morning, dawning,
Yawning through the window;
Not slowly, but swiftly, splaying
Across the picture with a faintness of blush.

Orange and yellow, purple and pink,
And blue and white, and a whisper of night.
The cold is moist like a film that clings
To my skin.

But it's warm.
And I don't feel hungry any more.
And my throat isn't dry.

A golden glory of a promising
Summer parades through the shanty of evanescent mist.
I'm bathed and basking
In its wholesome embrace.
It melts the skin on my face.

I now think I could sit here for hours,
Meditating.
I should sit straight. But I can't.
My back hunches back over as the strain tells.

I wish now he were here around me......
His tall frame.... and his broad shoulders,
And with his solid chest surround me....
And sit with me.

Then I see an image in the street and I think I could do without him.
Without them in general.
But then I think of him, and I don't want to.


Sunday 18 March 2012

Because Life's limited my choices

I want to go to college.

Bottom line kind of business. It's all I want. That's it.
After that, nothing. NOTHING! I'll work and make my way. Not a problem.

But I'm a fucking student now, and I don't have the money to put myself through college. And it's ALL because of my parents. I know it's a harsh, hurtful, mean thing to say. But it's the truth.
My dad's a doctor, but life's been hard on him. He hasn't practised in years, and he doesn't earn all that much. My mum hasn't worked for many years, and she doesn't have enough money now to put both me and my brother through college.
Worst part of it is.....I know they'd pay for him to go to college and study Hotel Management before they'd pay for me to go to college and study Medicine.

My dad won't give me a penny. Not a paisa. And usually, I can handle these things with some kind of dark, comical, sardonic humour. But not this. When he told me, I almost cried. And I was staring at him, and I'll never forget the look on his face.
It was smiling.....it was grotesque. Like he was mocking me. "What the fuck did you expect?" it was saying,"You didn't actually expect me to pay for you???!!!" He was laughing at me.  I'd never hated him more. But I still love him.....I'm just so angry at him and mum, and everybody. WE'RE NOT POOR PEOPLE!!!

My dad's going to Darjeeling at the end of this month. And a while back, he missed his flight so he bought a seat on the next flight to Bangalore the same day. It's fine when it comes to him, but not for us. My brother's made his peace with it. He's taking a student loan. But that fact is....a medical course costs a HELL of a lot more. In the words of my mum, "Medicine is bloody expensive."

No shit.

I ASKED him if i could get a job in 2010 to help pay for my fees. And he'd said no. No college fund. Nothing.
It's like he doesn't care what happens to me. My DAD!!! Sometimes, I feel like it's something worse...like he wants me to stay here, and fail, and never get anywhere with anything.

He wants me to study for the JOINT ENTRANCE EXAM in one year!! He puts me in an A level school, and then he tells me I have no choice. The course is NOWHERE similar. I'll do badly, and I'm turning 20 this year. My A2 level results will be out by the time I'm 21. And after 22 years of age, I won't be able to appear for the PMT exam ever again.

He blames me and my mum and everything else for the situation. But not him; it could never be HIS fault. Life has been hard on him....I know....he had a lot taken away from him. But he doesn't love me anymore. I can tell. My uncle, who had 4 kids, no matter how much they hated him or fought with him, put all 4 of them through college. And my dad has 2 kids, and he WON'T even help one of them.

Well, if he did, it would be my brother. And I know that. More clearly now than I did before. Same for my mum. She already told him that if he didn't get into Taj in India she'd help him get into a program at the University of Edinburgh.

It breaks my heart.

I'd have to turn to my 95 year old grandfather for help. My dad wouldn't even ask him on my behalf. And he's deaf....how would I possibly ask him??? How!!??

My whole life I've been raised to do things for myself, take care of myself, not accept help from others. And now, I can't, and I have nowhere else to go. Noone helps foreign students who want to study medicine. I thought it was the perfect job for me. I really did.

And the WORST, absolutely WORST part of it is that I can't talk to anybody about it. Since my brother got his girlfriend, he couldn't be bothered with anyone else in the house. My mum lives in London now, and I tried telling her about it, but she doesn't understand, and she doesn't listen......she tries.....very hard.....but she's too far away to help me. My friends are all in love....and they can only talk about that.
How can you bitch about your dad to random people like that? Not that my friends are random, they just....they're just the kind to be aghast and think I've lost my mind and try and resolve everything by saying, "It'll be fine." Because they don't actually care what happens to me.

I've said a lot of harsh things today. But it's all true. My father doesn't love me enough to try and get some money for me to go to Medical College. My mum doesn't have the means. And if either of them did, they'd pay for Drona's tuition before they'd pay my cab fare. My friends are fair weathery. And I've run out of options.
I've made my peace with it.
"I'll never be a doctor", maybe that's another one I should make my peace with as well.

I wish atleast I had someone close I could talk to about it. But I have a feeling, for lack of anything better to say, he'd probably just tell me, "Everything's gonna be fine."

Fuck them.
I'm gonna try. I'm gonna try doing well in the A levels and I'm gonna try studying for Joint. What's the worst that could happen? If nothing else, I'll study law.

My dad hates lawyers.


Thursday 5 January 2012

It's Important to Talk

Everybody needs to talk.

Every moment of everyday, my head is filled with random, inconsequential rubbish that, were I a sane and wants-to-use-her-time-productively-and-not-spend-it-pondering-utter-inconsequential-rubbish kind of person, I would forget about and do something far more positive and constructive and productive with my time. 

But I'm not that kind of person. What I realized was that I loved writing on this website because it felt like I was talking to someone or getting the thoughts out of my head and into the open. Once my thoughts are not just my thoughts anymore, they lose value exponentially and I forget about them so much more easily. I can move onto to new and fresh things. 

Psychiatrists probably base the demand of their services on this. I'm not saying I'm devaluing them or anything. Everyone needs someone with whom they can speak, and know that they're words are not falling on deaf or apathetic ears. I would probably feel better if I could voice my issues to someone I thought was wiser than I am  and  talk about it at length to see if my latent psychological stress and anxieties were manifesting themselves in any way in my behaviour, personality, social skills, or anything. 

The path of self-discovery is important in life. But I don't know anything about that.

All I wanted to say today was that I was lying on the sofa watching a movie that I've seen before, and I started trying to convince myself to go study. But I couldn't.....because I wanted to either call someone up and talk about my day or come online and write something. I needed to talk. 

When I was younger I'd keep a journal and I'd write it in everyday. I wanted this to be my journal, but I never feel like I'm just talking to myself (which is what it should feel like): I'm perpetually conscious of the fact that someone else might read this. When I write, I write it as if I'm writing for someone else to read, and not for myself. But what I remember from my journal writing experiences was that I always felt great, and I didn't tell random people what I was thinking, because I found a way to vent through the writing. 

Lesson 1: Expression in any form relieves a person of a lot of pent-up emotion. 

My dad told my brother that when it comes to relationships between girls and boys, it all comes down to communication. Girls tend to like and eventually need the person who listens to them. Now this is what I don't get. 

Girls like to talk, it's not a myth, or a cliche', it's just true. Well, I can't speak for everyone, but for the most part. Men like to talk just as much. They gossip just as much, they bitch just as much, they spread rumours, and they need just as much, if not more, to vent. But, sometimes, they just don't. I suspect that's what causes  deviant and potentially criminal behaviour. But I'm just ranting; this is officially my first rant. 

Now, I don't know if this is just me, and it's not like noone's ever heard this before, but men tend to like their women quiet and malleable. You don't see it as much where I live, but in other countries, and I may be completely off here, but men courting women tend to do ALMOST ALL of the talking. The girls get a word in here and there and seem perfectly happy like they were born and brought up on a diet of words, taught to be quiet and reserved with their thoughts, to not be too opinionated and to be happy about everything (a radiant smile plastered to their face, resplendent in their natural beauty, 'silent still'). 

I cannot be growing up in a world where men don't care to ask what a women thinks. Because, honestly, women know better. Every time. 

Lesson 2: Never discount another person's thoughts. Listen to a person with the same open mind with which you'd want them to listen to you. 

I am feminist, and I'm probably being feminist right now, but that doesn't mean I'm not right. I love W.B. Yeats as a poet but I hated his "Prayer for My Daughter" simply for this reason. He wanted his daughter to be a passive woman, homely and domestic, traditional. Not like Maud Gonne, the great love of his life, because she had become a militant revolutionary and was working under the Irish Independence movement. 
A strong woman who fought for what she believed in. 

Women were not born for men, regardless of what the Adam and Eve story says. 

Lesson 3: No society ever progressed by discounting the importance and intelligence of women.  

The following is unrelated but also semi-valuable lessons to learn.

Lesson 4: Pets are amazing company, and stroking the fur of dogs (they're my favourite!) is supposed to be good for the heart. 

Lesson 5: I've recently come to understand that forgiving quickly is good for health too. Also, don't take too many antibiotics. Overexposure of disease causing organisms to antibiotics in living bodies can create a variety of that organism that is resistant to multiple types of drugs, and as a result, all that much harder to destroy. 

I have a long way to go before I get good at writing. Einstein said something like "If you can't state it simply, you don't understand it well enough, or at all." I don't remember exactly. But I wanted this blog to be like a diary, haphazard, full of my not-so-incandescent thoughts. 

Thanks for listening. 

Wednesday 4 January 2012

"Bangali Ranna"

My mom never had to cook before she got married. In fact, it was only after she got married to Dad that she ever started really learning how to cook, and spending hours in kitchen conjuring up cuisine from recipes she got from these insanely expensive cookbooks that she has even today. Now, however, when she cooks in the kitchen, she really cooks in the kitchen!

This is traditional 'machher jhol' - fish preparation - and
it is just one of the miracle that is Bangali Ranna *sigh


The best part of all of that is that a Bengali mum will provide food on the table, cook stuff for you while you're eating sometimes so you get it piping hot and fresh from the stove, and (I'm sorry if this hurts any feelings or sentiments) there is no food in world that is tastier than Bengali food. Be it the colour, the smell, the texture, the aftertaste, I would probably eat it all.

Other friends of mine who have travelled all over India have ratified my claim. In my trips abroad or even to other parts of India, there is something about Bengali food, some culinary magic, that you can't taste anywhere else. I am, however, not talking about dessert. While Bengali desserts like rossogolla, panthoa and laddoos are very popular among people, I don't like them more than I do the savoury dishes.

Biryani 
A friend of mine actually said that Bengali people are lazy, West Bengal is possibly 3 generations behind every other state in terms of rate of progress, but Bengali people know how to cook, and how to EAT! Oh, imagine steamed rice like biriyani or pulao mixed with butter or ghee, spices, cashew nuts, raisins, chaat masala, meats and boiled egg, and spicy potatoes, followed by fish, chicken or mutton curry- reshmi butter masala- with hot, soft, luchis, chappatis, rotis or even naan, mmmm, malai curry of shrimp, spicy but sweet from the coconut milk, traditional mocha prepared Bengali style (that is a delicacy) and so many other things. Okay, also just remember that half the things I just named you are not traditional Bengali dishes; I'm only referring to how Bengali people prepare the food. Chinese food tastes different in every Indian state because different kinds of people like it prepared differently. Indian people have such colourful, vibrant food; but I love Bengali food the most for the most part. South Indian food like idlis, dosas and sambar prepared by Bengali hands is also phenomenal. I mean no offence, okay, I speak only for my own preferences, as prejudiced as they may be.

I visit my grandmother who lives very far away just to eat her cooking. Devious =D.

Puchka =)
Chicken rolls : My Favourite 
But here is the real tragedy. I don't know a saucepan from a kunti in the kitchen. I was trying to help make dal the other day. I remember wondering how something so simple could take so much trouble to make. I dont know how to make a fricken dal, people.I've already forgotten the process. Shame, shame.

I was actually wondering about, if and when I move out of the house, who would feed me? Chicken rolls, puchkas, aah, what would I do without them? Eat healthy food? Those barely-salted boiled vegetables? I don't think so.


There is only solution to my problem: Take my maid with me.

I wish I had some chingri malai curry now. Mmmmm, scrump-diddly-dumptious. 
When I returned to India in August last year, I thought my friends and I would lose touch and just grow distant and rifted as we drifted apart in the current of the lives we would start leading once our terms in college and school started. But, thank God, that that is not the case.

We ALL finally met up the week before Christmas at this college fest and we spent 2 days together. It was almost just like old times. How I miss them! I thought we'd become like those friends who meet each other every now and then while they're in the same city, unintentionally though, and then reconnect after 30 years when they're in their variety of marriages, with a whole new brand of drama defining their lives and worth talking about over tea (Honestly, I prefer tea to coffee any day of the millennium.) ; and in Bengal the tea-time conversation is tradition, and is traditionally called 'adda'- I kid you not. Then we'd be overwhelmed by how much our lives had changed and marvel at how different we look, how old our kids are, how we imagined each other marrying very different men, and so on and so forth. 

But, alas, we're friends for life. Now that I've said that I hope God doesn't start screwing around with my karma and send my friends cosmically away. That would so suck. But the universe has this way of committing the worst types of situational irony when you least expect it or are secure in your delusion that such could never take place......and then it does. I think someone called it Murphy's Law. That was hilarious. It's all about how everyday things seem to happen with the greatest frequency and concentration (per unit time) for a fixed period of time, when it is most inconvenient for it to occur. Like how the phone always rings and rings the most when you're immersed in a tub of hot water fora long, luxurious bath. 

But I'm deviating. Back to topic. 

Well, during the band performances I saw my 'scary bassist'. He came right up to the lip of the stage and I could barely look at anything else. I didn't particularly like the music or the showmanship, but the 'scary bassist' was something to watch. His attitude, his poses, his movement, his hair......what can I say, he had beautiful hair. I was terribly asphyxiated in the hall; not only was it getting stuffy since they closed the doors, but my head was fuzzy and I'd started feeling sleepy, but I couldn't take my eyes off him. 

I've never seen him before, and I've not seen him since. I missed my chance. But.....okay, some may call it stalkerish tendencies, but I just like to call it a positive attitude towards taking the initiative..... and I had to use some extensive connections to get his name and number. I haven't called him. I'm too much of a chicken. I probably never will.



No, you know what, I just might. 

PS: Don't worry, I'm not even capable of potentially criminal thoughts. Everyone's safe.

Monday 2 January 2012

At the end of my ISC examinations early on last year, I went to London to visit my mum. My parents are divorced and my mum lives there. In London, I decided that I wanted to be a doctor. So, instead of going to college after that, I ended up going back to school to finish 2 years of A-level education and pursue a medical degree. I've convinced myself that it's the right thing to do. Don't ask me why, I can barely convince myself anymore now, and it's only been 6 months.

Crap ! 

Now, with the new year beginning, I was hoping for some change. But I'm depressed and I can't function properly anymore. I'm not eating well; I just realized, I have aches and pains everywhere on my body, I can't study or enjoy TV. I miss being in a friendly place, familiar and comforting. I'm so ashamed about doing this I keep telling people I'm taking a gap year and that I'll be applying for college next year....which I won't be. I just wanted to get them off my back for a while. I don't want to be asked questions. I don't know myself why I do half the things that I do. And in India, one doesn't do things like this.... no one deviates like this. But whomever I have told so far, has been supportive. And I am grateful for that.

But my year's coming to an end and I have to decide if this is what I want to do with my life. And I still don't know.
I'm all about the long term. I've never been in a relationship because I know it won't last. Isn't that something? I know it's wrong, and I should try it anyway...and I will. It's just that... sometimes I feel like I'm not just thinking about it with my head. Though most of the decisions seem pragmatic; sometimes I feel like I'm doing what I'm 'supposed' to be doing. Like I have a bigger purpose; a role I have to fulfill.

I'm not kidding about that thing. I always say you make your own fate. But sometimes, I don't believe it for myself. I used to feel like God was adjusting my course to suit his designs. But I don't feel like that anymore. I feel directionless sometimes. And sometimes I feel completely convinced in my choices. If a person had to taste your blood to understand your composition, mine would be different every second.

Who could depend on a person like that? Who could love a person like that?

And I really want to be loved. Really, badly. And I know the person who truly loves me will love me just as I am..blah blah blah.... But they won't love me the way I want to be loved. I'm delusional in that respect. I think I'd want the guy to like worship the ground I walk on....in silence. Uhm, anyway, off-topic.

A good friend of mine told me to carry through with this doctor thing. Some of my family members are punch pleased. "Oh, another doctor in the family....how exciting!". And if I work hard, I could get good and earn pots by the time I'm 35. Ah, see, I feel convinced now. I suppose I'd feel safer about them if I got a boyfriend. Studies show that a stable relationship could be a key ingredient to success. Anyhow, today was just one of those low-self-esteem-days when I went for classes and came home unsatisfied and depressed cause I don't really like my classmates. Thank god my mates from the old school are still very close. I know, I know, I'm lucky....Things could always get worse. Let's just hope they don't.

Mmmm, dinner at my house always smells better than it tastes. I feel like studying and working now....but I won't and all this adrenaline will go away. Damnit. I'm going to give my SAT's soon I hope. Let's hope I don't kill myself before this mission is over. Oh yeah, and that the world doesn't end before I finish this course. I really want to go to college before I die. And to fall in love. And to kiss someone at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Day. And to go to London and see my mum. And sharing an apartment with my friends. And to travel across Europe with my sister (she's my favourite cousin). And to get married. I'm not looking forward to pregnancy all that much. And to get my first paycheck.
I feel happy again!

Yes, it's a long list so far, I know. But this isn't even half of it. =D
Thanks for listening.