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Showing posts from 2017

Into the Future

So on a Thursday morning I am home. Year end is nearing and I must use up my due casual leaves. I got up at 10 in the morning after a night-long session of vivid dreaming which left a very happy taste in my mouth. On my happy days (or less depressed days) I feel more active. So I have just finished washing a big pile of clothes and watching music and travel videos on youtube and suddenly some vision pops in my head. I am seeing myself ten years into the future. You may wonder. You may frown and say, ok I understand the midweek holiday part, I can try to understand the happy dreaming part, I definitely follow the washing part, and even I can stretch my mind till useless videos. But why the sudden time travel? BPD attack? Black part has awakened? Not really. But true, my mind does work in the most mysterious ways. So I am sitting on my bed, with headphones on, Munbe Vaa playing on my laptop (the Masala Coffee rendition is lit af). And suddenly I see myself. A forty something hot as fuck …

Scorpio Moon

So I was sitting on a bench, observing the loitering crowd around me in the dying ray of sun. You cannot say I was in a bad or sad mood. I was perhaps feeling a little lost. (BPD, eh?) Suddenly I looked up and did a double take. This old tree was literally looming over my bench. For few seconds I was little shocked. Then I looked at it more closely. That is the best part about being alone or roaming about alone. You can stop and look at a dead tree or how light is reflecting through the cluster of fogs (About last night when I was climbing up from Bhutia Busty.). No one is around to pester you with their insufferable jokes or premature, desperate proposal or call you a mental patient certified by google. Yesterday I had also stopped at a bend to appreciate how magnificent the clouds were looking just on the top of the hills of Sikkim and Kalimpong. I was just standing and staring. What exactly goes through my ‘BPD-ed’ mind during those moments? It usually transcends the boundary of re…

Letting Go

“I am hurting so fucking much. I don’t feel normal.” “Ah honey, just let it go.
Exactly how many times I have heard this phrase in life till date? I don’t keep a count. At least a hundred times, perhaps? Well, even the new-age, feminist Disney princesses seem to take that advice these days. Let it go.
Well, what does it exactly mean though? What to let go of? How to let go? Do we really do that? People who give that advice like gifting a mass-produced greeting card on your birthday; do they really know what it means? Do they really mean what they are saying? Or is it just as easy as an advice as any store purchased card or a text template? Easy and hassle-free advice for a good natured but too busy friend and one of the best excuses for a coward. Yes, it is always too easy to cut loose and run from an issue by simply telling, “Let it go!”
You know what, I refuse to let go. I always have. Unless or until I have a solid reason.
Do I sound like a stupid (read emotional) person? Someone too m…

A #nofilter Day

I no longer edit my photos. Does it imply I am too good a photographer or that my camera is really good or just that I am way too lazy? I have no idea. It's just that Darjeeling weather these days does not need any fucking filter. Is there a better filter than Nature itself? I wonder.

Men or Murder

It’s been almost two months I moved to Darjeeling. I had thought I would turn into some coming-of-age, single, independent female blogger living in hill station and telling stories of her interesting life in quite Jamie Zeppa style. But you see man/woman proposes and the bastard Almighty disposes and then throw it back to your face to emphasise the humiliation. So I remained the same sad piece of little shit picking up melancholy everywhere; even in the ravishing beauty of The Kanchenjungha. Is sadness my unofficial, silent middle name? Perhaps. And especially when the universe chose that name for you, where the hell would you run and hide? So better face it and make sarcastic jokes about it. And when the burden of sadness feels too much to joke about, sit down and write some poetry out of them. Sad poetry is a big hit. So life sucks pretty much the same way. Only the temperature has dropped and elevation gone up. No! Don’t you dare give me advice that ah happiness comes from within e…

Ra's Children

Once upon a time the sky was a vast nothingness with no end and no beginning. Then almighty Ra decided to plough her field from east to west and said, "Let there be life!" And that's how the colours were born.

Photos taken on a field inspection day in Siliguri.

p.s. #nofilter #noedit, bitches.

Apology

It's not BPD
Trust me
Or any other disorder
It's fear
Mixed with paralysing
Sadness
Sadness of watching
Promises
And dreams
Fall apart
Over and over again
While I am
The helpless spectator
And going back
To the empty, cold room
Falling on my knees
With tears rolling down
Before Saturn
And Mercury
And the story of
Cursed fate they etched

On this innings of mine
Here
I can't run away from it
I can't escape it
There is no shortcut
To my happy ending
Or perhaps
There is no happy ending
For me
In this life
In this episode
That you too were
pre-destined to leave
And I can't do anything
About it
And you too
Can't do anything about it
We were just two puppets
Tied together for a while
By the thread of 
Doomed fate
And I am so sorry
For all the trouble
That I have caused you.

Chopped

If I had to describe my life in one word which one I would use? Unpredictable. Yes. Not only the events in my life are so, but I myself can be described with that same word. No wonder I like living in the hills. When your very life is full of innumerable hairpin bends where the hell would you rather go live? Nope, I never puked on a journey through those roads. I belong there. Twists and turns. I revel in the chaos of unexpected. I pick up the pieces of storm and make poetry out of them. No wonder you think I am insane or suffer from some mental disorder. I am not for your average men. Your clause of safety will turn useless in the darkest crannies of the mind that I so proudly possess. So don’t put the blame of your lack of courage on my mind.
So last week I went to the salon and chopped off my oh-so-precious long hair. And I got some discounts for it too. Life is good. No, I did not cry while getting it done. Not for once I closed my eyes. I was sitting there watching my beautiful …

Break

I am taking an indefinite break from blogging. By indefinite it could be anything from five days to five months to, God forbid, five years. But as far as I know myself it should not be more than a month. I have many things to write, many things to share. But for now I must mourn for some time. Even if I end up writing something I wouldn't be posting them. Death demands the respectful silence. And I am mourning a death right now.
See you soon.

A Science Fiction

I was just back from my date with Justice league. I was scrolling through my feed on facebok and I stumbled across this. It didn't come with a credit and I tried to browse on google to find who wrote this piece of sheer gem. Sadly I could find none. I hate sharing other people's masterpieces to draw traffic on my blog but I just had to share this. I just want to say this to whoever wrote this, "I LOVE YOU." I don't know who you are but you are probably my soulsister. Lately I have heard a lot about from a certain someone for my alleged 'bad habit' of hating women. Honestly, his allegations are not completely untrue. I absolutely loathe this clan of women who are at least partly responsible for the sad fate of their own sex. Women who always try to cage other women by petty, pragmatic values and refuse them to sanction them the wings they deserve so rightfully. For past few months my life has become hell owing to such type of women (woman). And then one fi…

The Survivors

There is beauty in falling in love with people who have suffered as much as you have. People who look at your scar marks and can tell you what you have been through. But above all, people who are not full of themselves. People who have seen blood and know how it tastes like. The taste of metal coupled with melancholy. They are not judgmental piece of shit. They will call you up at 3 in the morning and laugh through the fucking tears. They don’t give fucking damn about health and mental wellbeing. Because they have seen the end of the world and have lived through the catastrophe. Don’t try to teach them your fuckall spirituality as they have tasted the fire of doomsday on their tongue and they are still here to tell their stories. They don’t need to read some fuckall guru’s books because their own life is the testimony of all things those bleed. Shut those fucking books of yours. Close that fucking superficial mind of yours. Take off your clothes. And let them get rid of theirs. Touch …

Fall

Solitary autumn afternoons always remind me of endings. Yellow leaves crunching beneath the shoes. Tinge of gold slipping off the snow peaks. Everything is bathing in the dying ray of sun. Wind is too mercilessly cold. My numb fingers adjust the cozy layer of woolens. The tip of my nose is crying for help. Lower lip has been bleeding since I smiled at the random stray dog. I stride across the crowded street. People are enjoying the last part of the day before heading home. Kids are returning from school. Their scarves are painted in cheery shades of yellow. They remind me of Gryffindor students. Happy looking couples passing by hand in hand. Do I feel a sudden pang somewhere inside me? Ah, must be the cold. Solitary old man is dozing off in the shadowy corner of neglect and decay. I look up. Sky is looking so bloodshot all of a sudden. I shiver in spite of myself. I think of blood dripping off me, slowly coagulating into red patches. My favourite kind of red. The red that is smeared …

Fickle

When you read someone’s blog and realise you have your own things to say and that might get a bit longer than an average comment and start writing your own post fueled by what they wrote, will that be considered as stealing the ideas? I am not so sure. In fact I was planning to write a post on self-harming tendencies to creep the fuck out of your souls my dear readers. But then here I am, writing on concentration (or the lack of it) and my list of excuses for it.
Let’s first start with concentration. The first para contains approx 92 words and within that I checked whatsapp twice, reacted to a Paolo Coelho quote, checked facebook once and changed song on the playlist. Yes, most of the times I type with my headphones stuck into my malfunctioning earholes. Wait, maybe I need to eat a little chocolate and drink some water before I can sit and organise my words. Not to mention the water intake will lead me to reluctantly clamber off the bed and walk out of the door in another ten minutes…

Not Hurt

New Friend

Reminiscence

Memories are weird. Some stay so strong that it feels like only yesterday when it was ripping apart your reality into a forever lasting scar mark. Some go into oblivion. And they come back in flashes while you are probably putting makeup on in the morning or sipping coffee on a quiet, sunny afternoon. You feel shocked at first thinking if it really happened once. And then the indifferent rumination gives you the second wave of shock. You sit there, nodding your head with a divine smile on your face. If people could see the corner of your mouth twisted into a curve they would think you were sharing a private joke with yourself. No. You are just merely laughing inwardly thinking how on earth you thought this memory this faded trace of a bygone event would matter so much to you. But the truth is – nothing lasts forever. Love dies. Fire extinguishes. Rain stops. People leave. And even someday this one little blue planet will go to sleep without setting its morning alarm for tomorrow. You…

Thor Ragnarok (No Spoiler)

Last couple of months has not been good for me. I am disappointed, torn apart, but not shocked. I am hardly ever shocked when disaster happens in my personal life. (Touch fucking wood. Please god, do not take this statement as a challenge. I beg you.) I know the trend of my life. As some wise person might again jump at it and start charging at me for being ‘stuck in my past’ way too much for their convenience. But hey man, I studied statistics. We learned how to use past to predict our future. And most of my batchmates are earning their bread doing that only. No I don’t do that; I am just a boring bureaucrat. So let’s come to the point. What was I living for during these past two months? Transfer? Yes. New books? Yes. New clothes? Yes. Oh screw you, I am shallow and I don’t give a damn. But above all, I was waiting for one particular day. November 3rd, 2017. Thor Ragnarok was coming that day. If there is one reason I go to bed with a motivation to wake up the next morning, that would…

Taurus Full Moon

Today is a full moon night. The sky is clear. Liquid silver is flooding across the sleepy town. You can’t tell apart the stars and the twinkling lights adorning the hills. I look up. And then I look again. I can’t believe my eyes. Did you ever see snow-clad peaks under a moonlit sky? I just did. It is not a special night. No lost love has come home to cuddle with me under the same blanket. No kiss has been shared promising together forever . Yet I am out there. On the terrace. I am standing. Clutching the railings. Looking up at the moon and the invisible mountain gods. It says that moonlight doesn't touch your skin; it touches the veins inside and becomes one with the blood until it possesses you. Lunatic. That's the word. I am not sure if it is due to crying or the midnight chill I am shivering so violently. But I am out there, counting my karma. Making pact with the gods. While staring at the mountains that look like masterpiece of some nameless cosmic painter at the momen…

Two Events, Few People, and the Lama Who Speaks Bengali

So far in Darjeeling I have attended two ceremonies which are purely Buddhist in nature; one Tibetan, one Sikkimese but both follow the same tradition of Vajrayana. My office is below the railway station from where there is a shortcut to my house but on most of the days I take the longer route via chowrasta. Life is pretty lonely here, especially after sunset. So I try to linger outside as much as possible after office. It was last week when I was going home from work when I saw this little notice outside Kunga Restaurant. The Tibetan Himalayan Buddhist Women Association was organising the yearly puja of Devi Tara at the local community hall. And I knew I had to attend this. I knew where the community hall was but the problem was something else. I am a pure chickenshit when it comes to unknown or new social situation, let alone barge into some community ceremony uninvited; even though I was almost sure they wouldn’t mind. Still I called up my landlord Mr. S and requested him to intro…

Of Being an HSP and Sadness

I am a sad person. Not sad as in pathetic. Like, ohh that is so sad, I feel so sorry for her. But sad as in, full of sorrow. You take away anxiety, take away fear, and take away the apparent bitchiness. All that will remain is that sadness. Like some sort of melancholy entwined with my whole existence since the time before I was I, but someone else, some other sentient being. You might have looked at my social media profile; some of you might have stalked me and wondered why this girl sounds so morbid and occasionally creepy at times? Well yeah, if sadness is my deep rooted prevailing state then creepiness is my second identity. I entertain myself with that aspect of my personality. And like most people out there, I am hardly ever apologetic of showing my deepest, darkest, truest nature to others. I know that makes you uncomfortable. That makes you hate me. More often than not people hate me in a weird way. Most people stand at a distance and look at me like an enigma and conclude wh…

Darjeeling, So Far

Somehow the new place had me a lot distracted and blogging took a back seat. I guess I miss the spot on my bed back home where I have a left a deep dent, proof that it belonged to an unsocial, introverted person. Well, it still does. Here if the new bed is making me homesick then also the cold is a little crippling. I don’t feel the pressure of its sharp teeth on my arse as long as I am roaming about outside. But once I am back in my room I don’t feel like keeping my unprotected hands out of the comfort of my newly purchased made in China polyester blanket. As far as excuses go this is not bad, eh? Right now I am sitting on a little rectangular of patch sunlight pouring through the window and having tea with some delicious Nepali snack and trying to get past my silly excuse and jog my brain.

I am living with a widow Nepali lady and her seven years old son as a paying guest. I live on the first floor. No roommate. I have an open terrace just outside my room where I go onto first thing…

#metoo

So lately there has emerged this new trend on social media, #metoo. It basically comes with confessions from women all over the world that yes, I too have been sexually abused at some point of time in my life. Twitter, facebook, blogger are flooding with various confessions, posts, and even memes saluting this great effort to de-stigmatize this crime that most of us women were taught not to talk about.
Have I been sexually abused? Well, of course, yes. Many times. And the 'beauty' of sexual abuse is that, it comes in various forms. But that's another story. Today I am dying to shout my lungs out about a different kind of abuse. The kind of abuse where nobody lays their hands on you. The kind of abuse that can't be reported because there's no law for it yet. And of course, like any other abuse, it is not gender specific.
Have you ever been abused mentally on a daily basis on the verge of losing the last smidgen of your self-esteem? #metoo And these abuses came in s…

Someday

Someday When it is 3 am And you are sleeping by my side Peacefully Oblivious to the fact That I have been crying For past one hour The sound of my silent sobbing Didn’t reach your Sleepy ears Silly boy You thought you had won me That my heart was at peace How wrong you are You don’t know Some people Are cursed Even before their seed was sown In the womb Even before they took Their first breath They are carrying Some ancient
Prophecy of doom In their tired soul The curse of coming back To the earth again And even though We are together We can never be One As I was designed To be alone My heart and soul Trapped In the shackles Of my own dark fate And I am exhausted I want to leave I want to slide off the bed And disappear in the dark Don’t look for me Don’t shed tears Over my absence Rejoice As I will have found The peace I have been searching for My whole life

New Chapter - Darjeeling

So long story short, I have shifted to Darjeeling. I had opted for this posting quite some time back but it got delayed due to so many reasons for an indefinite time period. I am a firm believer in fate, destiny and all kinds of prophecy written on the stars that are beyond our reach and logical comprehension. I hate logic. So I diverted my mind from the bureaucratic bullshit at work and told myself that the delay was pre-destined and I was supposed to fulfill some other tasks meanwhile. You may laugh at my belief and call me half-witted and superstitious but so many things happened in between that now I am more of a zealous believer in that ancient saying – nothing happens before time.

So here I am, sitting in my room that I have rented as a paying guest and writing my first blog post from Bengali’s all-time favourite hill station tormented and almost torn apart owing to decades of political turmoil. Although my interest in Darjeeling doesn’t exactly follow the typical Bengali path…

An Ending

It wasn’t the ending she had hoped for. It didn’t fit with her prolonged fantasy about this moment. She had pictured it differently in her infinite bound mind. To begin with, she didn’t imagine the day would turn out to be so gloomy, so disastrous. The incessant rain, worsened by the roaring of wind was only reminding her of the emptiness that filled every square inch of her chest. Her damp clothes were hanging limply around her somewhat shrunken frame, sending repeated shivers through her spine. She was dying for some warmth. She was probably missing another human's touch against her numb skin. She was losing out on way too many things lately. Why today? She couldn’t help feeling a little resentful. But then almost immediately she got the answer from herself. The universe doesn’t give a damn about her moment. No, not really. 
Rain or no rain, she expected this moment to be a lot more emotional. But no, they didn’t hug before parting ways. No farewell wishes were spoken. Nobody l…