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Bad days happen just out of the blue. Imagine you just came home in the evening, preparing dinner for Saturday night and suddenly the light goes out. First you think it’s a general power-cut but soon it dawns upon you that something is wrong in your flat only. Well, as an Indian you usually have this sixth sense when it comes to power-cut. You call your landlord and he rushes in with the electrician. After half an hour of probing and poking everywhere they discover there was a deadly short-circuit in your room. A small section of the wooden ceiling actually caught fire whilst you were in the kitchen marinating chicken.
I had plans for Sunday. I had plans to visit someone, then go buy a dress I had spotted yesterday; and then go watch Pari. Instead of that all day I was running to and fro with broom in one hand and spoon in the other. The electricians worked all day. They had to rewire the entire floor. When they left in the evening I was exhausted and covered in dust. But you know, OCD…
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Exes and Why I Suck at Dating 1/2

Why? Oh god why? Why would I choose such a gruesome, horrendous topic of all things in the world? I mean people don't usually talk about exes openly, do they? And yet, they are such great motivation for us. I know a girl who is so hell-bent on showing her ex how happy her married life is that once she compared her husband's egg curry (I mean he cooked the curry, the eggs didn't come out of his body.) with true love. How do I know this? Come on, she declared it on Facebook. Now are you getting why Facebook arises the serial killer in me?
Disclaimer: Not all the people I mentioned here are my exes. Only three of them I actually dated seriously. Rest of the people came up because I needed the post to be long enough and well, I just love bitching about people on my blog. And asshole men provide such good content.
For me, my exes ARE my motivation. Had it not been for them I would have never known what I want or do not want in a relationship. Or I would never be able to appreciat…


I am always on the go. If not physically then mentally. My extraordinarily imaginative mind is always flying off to new destination every weekend. I am always having imaginary conversation with people whose face are just a blur. Always falling in love for the first time. To be honest, I have never really had a home. Half my life I was imprisoned to one place, one city. For four years I went to the same office and yet never cared to decorate my desk. Why? Because I was always waiting for that tomorrow when I would be out of there; once and for all. Even in the new city I am already planning for my escape route. Nope, I love it here. But people like me don't have homes. We just drift from one place to another. Always on the lookout for that distant horizon where the sun looks a little bit brighter. Always hoping to find that place where we would feel we truly belong to. I so wanna end up somewhere. Settle. Build a home. But I don't know where that somewhere is. I don't even …

Random Ruminations

Why is every delicious thing in the world so forbidden? I am talking about potato chips, you filthy pervert. Now, never in a million years I would actually walk into a shop and buy a bag full of chips. But what the hell you can do when you live in a different city where you are obligated to attend herds of guests who inevitably bring you something so sinful? Sometimes it’s a bag full of chip. Sometimes a huge bottle of wine. Screw it.
Talking of forbidden, have you ever watched Sapna Chowdhury’s dance on Teri Akhiyon Ka Kajal? Or Ae Raja Raja Raja? Or, ahem, Purulia songs? I know. I am a VERY weird person. But you know where the difference lies? I am shameless. I have very few skeletons in my closet. So stop taking life so seriously. Watch the songs I have just mentioned. They are such stress busters.
I have put on some weight. But in a well-distributed, hot kind of way. That’s the outcome of having toxic things out of your life and spreading good vibes. By the way, A noticed it first, e…

Synagogues of Calcutta

Every city in the world has its own signature style and heritage. Calcutta is a fascinating name on that list because of its chameleon-like appearance. Explore the alleyways of North Calcutta; you will see the face of an ancient lady still clutching on to the glory of her bygone days. Go to Park Street; you will get to wine and dine with an elite person full of snob aristocracy despite the outbreak of Communist tomfoolery that once tried to stifle her extravaganza. South Calcutta – that very beautifully made-up lady with an air of indifference; she will break your heart I'm telling you. Sealdah – middle class working woman who has no time for your bullshit. Then comes this one place which is neither north nor south, but falls right in between. The heart of Calcutta. Dalhousie. Long before the birth of corporate culture or New Town (an ugly hybrid piece of crap) when there were only government offices and smalltime private enterprises, Dalhousie used to be the office hub of Calcutt…

Holi Days

I don’t know if it is the effect of planetary transit, or the huge shift in lifestyle, or maturity, or unrequited hidden love for someone but I am becoming less rigid and more relaxed these days. I take things as they come and don’t try to resist much. Earlier I used to be so scared and insecure that I would be defensive all the time. And that would come out all wrong. Now I know why kindness is such an important virtue. Being kind doesn’t always mean doing volunteer work. Sometimes kindness just means sitting back and looking at things from others’ perspective. That’s how forgiving becomes easier. And forgiveness leads to liberation. Nowadays I even celebrate my sadness as well instead of suppressing it the wrong way. Now I sit back and try to talk with the sad girl. I let her cry. Wipe her tears. Give her a hug. Then tell her that it’s OK to fall back sometimes. Feeling sad every once in a while is part of life.
So when our original Holi plan got cancelled I tried to console myself a…

Jupiter Girl

She is a centaur. A mythological creature trapped in the body of a woman. A tough job, I tell you. Feet on the ground but eyes to the sky. Shooting for that star beyond everyone's reach; where dreams are born. Tame her with logic? Nahh. Try telling her a fairy-tale. And she will fall for you right away.