Beer Bath and other things......

Among other things, got to celebrate my birthday in XL. Well, the party rocked. And the surprise element added to the wow factor. These guys here put in lots of effort to organize everything. Thanks IQ, PK, ComB, Ferrari, Shady, Sana, Flt. Lt., Shilpa and AM. You guys rock. And the birthday gift, a fabulous book.....Bertrand Russell's History of Western Philosophy....leaving you with the photographs....

Getting the bumps.......


Beer Bath.......

The Cake.....

The After Effects....

Writer's block

I seem to be suffering from writers block again. Just a week back, had written and edited stuff for the blog...today am unable to do so. That got me thinking, may be there is something about this writers block after all. So here i just describe the week that went by.

The week went in the usual Pujo festivities. Some pandal hopping at last. Was accused of ditching friends while I went pandal hopping, but none will understand that sometimes, some one may just not feel like coming out of the shell that one has created.

Among other things watched quite a few movies, surprisingly for me. A must watch for any one is The Empire of the Sun, directed by Steven Spielberg and starring Christian Bale, John Malkovich, and Miranda Richardson. It is based on the novel of the same name by J.G. Ballard. Beautiful, moving tale about growing up when the world around you is crumbling.

Also watched a Korean movie, My Sassy Girl, a romantic comedy starring Korean actress Jun Ji-hyun. It is a movie about love, relationship and what it means to be special.

Other than watching these movies dint do anything much. Actually nothing much was there to be done also. Looking forward to next week, when with the SIP on, there will be more to write.

Subho Bijoya......

As the dhaaks fall silent and the pandal lights go dim. As the crisp new clothes are creased, as the mist in the air and fragrance of a thousand incense fade, as autumn turns into winter, as Maa is slowly lowered into the water for her to begin her journey back home, there is wish and a prayer on every lip, that may the coming year be blessed and may it have all the best tidings of the season, till we meet again. Aasche Bochor Aabar hobe, with that hope, and with the prayer for the best of the year to come, Bijoyar aantorik preeti o subheccha, Subho Bijoya.

New look

Finally decided to give a new look to this blog. Was getting bored with the old. Hope this also signals a new enthu to blogging....This was how the old blog looked. Just keeping it here so that sometime later can come and take a sneak peak and remember the days of yore

The Divorce

It was a lonely moonlight night. Sandhya was sitting by the small pool behind the house. It was the last night. Tomorrow would be different. The bags had been packed. The kids had got admission in a reputed boarding school at Dehradun. They would be leaving tomorrow morning.

The heavily laden bakul tree, with its white flowers, kissed the pool and spread its heady fragrance around. Theres was a home made by love. And today it was that love that with its absence was making a home a house again. Sandhya reflected on the events of the last few years. It had been a classic love story. They had met in college, on the first day, when she had sat at her hostel gate, lonely, excited, sad, and most importantly missing her mom. He was walking by, and stopped to ask what happened. She joined him for a walk after that and the walks went on longer and longer, till by the time they left college they were inseparable. Sandhya and Mridul, Mridul and Sandhya; two bodies but one spirit. Mridul was a musician and a writer and a poet. Actually she thought, he was gifted in very special ways. More than she could fathom.

It was but expected and with blessings of both the families a fairy tale wedding was held. After the wedding, they moved to this city and started building their dreams from the bricks of reality. On the first day she had asked him to carry her over the doorstep. Sandhya smiled as she remembered that day. He, unsure of what to expect, carrying her gently in his arms as if afraid to drop the precious bundle, she arms gaily around his neck. As he gently carried her across the doorstep she had made a small notch on the door with her nails, and said, "This is to remind you who is the boss". They had collapsed laughing on the floor.

Their fairy tale life was soon assailed by the everyday reality of living. Individual quirks that were cute once, were now nerve jarring. Mistakes blew into disasters and talk consisted of a non stop shouting match. In the midst of this in the time when things were still fine two bonny babies made an appearance. They had been the heart and soul of the family. Now they were being packed off to boarding school......

Sandhya, felt tears rolling down her eyes. The frustration of it all. The uselessness, the stupidity of it all. It had been a fairy tale romance, it deserved a fairytale ending. But she knew it was not to be. A barrier had been created. One that was too difficult to surpass. They hardly spoke. If they did it was to argue. They hardly..... She sighed....it had been long....really long....

A slight movement on the side of the pool roused her from her revere. It was Mridul. Standing there with his violin. His eyes asked her permission to sit beside her. Despite her head saying no, her heart said yes. It was like the old times. They were sitting together on a moonlight night, feeling the warmth of each other's bodies as the cold autumnal wind blew. Sandhya shivered slightly. And without any warning, Mridul wraped her in the shawl that he had. "Tomorrow we part, but that doesn't mean that today I don't take care of you". Typical of him. As they sat in the moonlight, Sandhya glanced up at the ruddy cheeks, the stiff lips, the hawked nose, and those brilliant eyes. He was handsome, had always been. And still was.

On the other side of town, their respective lawyers were furiously working at the divorce settlement. Eveything would be divided. But can a soul ever be divided?

They sat for what seemed like the whole night. No words were spoken. Tonight none were needed. When they rose from the dew laden grass, it was early morning. As they walked to the front door, Mridul held Sandhya's hand in his. And as they crossed the threshold, Sandhya was in his arms, and she made the notch a little more deep.

The lawyers were called and asked to forget about the proceedings, there would be no divorce. The school in Doon was informed that the kids were not going anywhere. And the house....ohh....it became a home again, with laughter and joy ringing everywhere......

Grey Dawn Breaking....

After a night spent in writing assessment reports...and the prospect of another pujo far from home....another pujo without the protima dorshon and the dhaak.....it is a grey dawn that breaks....also this marks my return to blogdom....i was around.....lurking around the shadows of blogland....reading blogs...commenting on all.....but i return....and hopefully will see more posts from me....

Sharod Subheccha

Durga Poojo.......the time of the year when the Bangalee's life revolves around new clothes, visiting Pandals, Protima Dorshon, the live Protima Dorshon for the greater percentage of younger folks, and feasting and celebrating. No matter who you are, where you are, what you do, Bangalee maane Durga Pujoer dhaak aar Pandel pandel ghora, aar masti, aar aada......baaro maase taaro prabon, kintu aokaal bodhoni? seta prabon noye...seta jibon....Sharod Subheccha

Donkey and the Butterfly

The charming butterfly flirting from flower to flower

The poor donkey tilling the earth with the sweat of his brow

Pray, tell me dear one,

Who, is the one, who makes the flowers grow?

Said the butterfly to the donkey,

“Be like me! I flirt from flower to flower as happy as I can be.”

Said the donkey to the butterfly,

“Flirting is not for me. I tend to one little flower, give it beauty for all to see”

Mocking, the butterfly said,

“One, miserly flower, when it is the whole garden I see”

Laughing, the donkey replied,

You see the garden; I see the one which belongs to me”

“Come what may”, the donkey continued,

“And may the world hear”,

“You may flirt with all the flowers in the land”

“But none will ever your name bear.”