The Dimension Of The Being

The maroon-red bus halted with all it's enormity catching me unaware and overwhelming me at the same time. A lanky, dark and handsome looking young man dashed out of it and shouted nonchalantly "Harrah-Harrah-Harrah" followed by a few more mouthfuls of chewed and spitted out syllables that refused to find any coherence in my ears. He looked at me, questioning my intent. For him the only intent mattered was whether I wanted to board his already overflowing bus, beyond this intention all the human form was lost in oblivion for him. I froze and stood still, unable to move, caught in a self created chamber of claustrophobia. This repressing feeling of in a constant claustrophobic state first hit me when I set my first foot out of the train, into the Howrah station. I felt my walls closing in and crashing into each other creating a powdery and flaky wave of concrete. The sole reason I was in the city was because of a last name bestowed on me before my birth and th...

Heart wants what it wants and there is no two ways about it. You can fear this want, loathe it with all your brute force, drive it away with the incessant noise that fills your room ever flowing from your window from the pandemonium of the outside world- but it still comes back to you. A moment of silence and the simmering of desires returns to scorch your soul, burn it and leave marks on it. Solitude is therefore the most blessed and the most loathed drug for the soul. A masochistic soul will always crave for solitude. There is a certain pleasure in the pain of desires, a certain thrill in reliving the hopelessness of the truth in scratching out those pink tinted lenses and seeing the world in its true naked form, free from all the sugar coated, filtered realities. Truth be told we all evolve and evolution, just like birth is a painful process. We writhe our way out of the womb and then into this world - the writhing, the floating into oblivion, the struggle to breathe, t...

It is a busy day, just as all the weekdays are. The running tap indicates that its been a while Sia has left the bed. The room is a mess, her work clothes lying in a pile, laundry undone, utensils drying away in the sink. Sia taps impatiently on the basin with her left hand, in rapid tap dancing motions, while with right hand she brushes her teeth. She scans her face, neck and turns to side to give her waistline a quick look. As she spits out the paste and opens the tap to wash her mouth, there is a mental calculation of how her day will look like. Its work as usual, then she has to meet a guy on a date. Online date prospect will be the precise answer. She decides to invest more time than usual in shower today as you can never be sure and you always hope the date goes well. She shaves, showers, uses the special body wash, shampoos. As she dries herself, she is selecting the right shade of lipstick, not too loud, she does not want to give out all the wrong signals. A mascara, ko...

"If you are not a bit broken then may be you are of no use to me and my attention." I was fiddling with these line in my head, eager to place it somewhere or at some place. It was 7 o'clock in the morning and I was lying down funny in my room. My old man, would be the go to person for this creative urge, but it is too personal. He will gauge the intensity and then things will not be that good for me. The commotion at the living area, got my attention and a sprang to action to meddle into "family matters". I saw Mother and Father staring at the lush bouquet of white lilies lying suspiciously at your door step. My mother was giving an eye full to my father and he sheepishly said, "We have a young lady at home and anonymous admirer at the door steps, Go figure."

"These are just old stairs." I mumbled under my breath, half disappointed at my misadventure. This man has once again tricked me into following him in his vagabond wanderings. "Did you say something?" He looked at me and smiled. I timidly shook my head quickly to indicate a no. Yes, I am a bit scared of him, may be I am scared that he should not feel that I am not his little kid anymore and I have grown up. That is my Father, ever enthusiast, the eternal nomad and an avid walker. I guess it is like an addiction for him, he just keeps on walking through streets and alleys. As a kid he would take me with him and I had to run, gallop and skip to catch up with him. With time the addiction passed into me. Winding through those streets, with a half fear and half thrill of getting lost, only to find a new way back home. It is a funny thing, in the end, you always return back to home; a bit grown up, a bit broken, a bit tired, but then you are home. "We c...

There was a mark on my right hand just near the elbow, underside, where my skin is hairless. I sit on the cafe table at the bookshop and roll over my sleeves, to check whether, it is still there or long lost? I heal fast.

Immersed in the night: My thoughts Incoherent babbles: My nights Mingled in a concoction of distortion: My life Perfection in pandemonium: My soul Some sort of trouble: My emotions Harmony in destruction: My love Tedious in peace: My silence Some brewing conspiracy: My Peace Deluded from the dark: My optimism The darkest light: My hopes A series of mirage: My aspirations And in the dark, I loom No, I am living and happy about it It’s the patterns you see Carved to perfection and distorted to exist It’s in the abyss I find my zenith The dew of the morning is an acid I find my solace in the night frost I wake up in the morning But ever awakened in the night Am I living in my dreams or my dreams are living me? Within my soul lies deep a secret Beyond this life and this reincarnated myth But, it is in everything between life and death Beautiful lies that my soul planted Through the lives and its many journeys Shades and layers: T...

So, as I pack my bags again to return to Kolkata from Odisha my mother asks me a question.  "You will be travelling alone in a night train." I look at her and then the thought strikes, most of the time (99.9%) she does not know that I am travelling alone. The second line of thought is well she is my mother, if she will not worry then who else will. When I look back in time, it has been over a decade of solo travelling. It started from the time I entered college and luckily this phase is still going strong. I read at places how unsafe solo travelling is for a woman especially in India. However, I believe I am lucky to be born in India and one of the reasons behind is that this country has immense beauty and enigma in every bit and corner (really... "Main toh tera jabra fan ho gaya"). Anyway coming to my point, there are advantages of being a solo traveler and I cannot trade it with company. 1. My Travel My Rules: Have you ever tried going out with...

Old haunting is the best one  They stay within you  And you visit them often They are mist surrounded When you first lay your eyes on them Within you they grow And they deceive you You did not ever know Then while you look back They again come back to you You remember the haunting And now that your innocence is snatched Ignorance has long shed its last tear You see, the reason they haunted The mist is clear The sun shines  And you look back and smile They are now with you You feel the warmth of old blanket It is still there, the old mist lingers Your old aroma in them is still fresh The days bygone are within you Those warm nights with cool breeze  Sing a song and you smile There is a pause And in this pause lies your life. (This one song was in my head for the entire week, It haunted me as a child, It now brings a smile...)

This is the view I am seeing as I write on this post. The 1000 rupee or more question is why do we do the things we do? What compels us to act or behave in a particular way? Why does our perception change from one individual to another? Open up the brain and you will get the same structure, the same frontal lobe, the same medula oblongata. So, why is the cool girl beside me sitting there with two hot guys and chatting on and I a married person is sitting alone after completing hordes of assignment by noon. I have the answer because I chose to embrace the indifference of one guy leaving the attention of others. Off late some people had a strong objection albeit disgust to my wacky sense of humour or my satirical tongue. It keeps me thinking that weather I should hold my horses? You know my horses or mare to be put appropriately are kicking a lot of ass lately. No, by ass I didn't mean the nether region used by humans for sitting and as rappers from around the world put it for shaki...

South Park Street Cemetery Some things in life should be better left unattainable. There is a certain charm in the chase. When you chase skies, you never reach any closer, yet they lure you with their incessant mirage. There is a thirst that you are addicted to and no amount of elixir can save you from dying of it. If I had gone to my elders with this condition, they would pronounce it to be a fatal disease. The one that you invite to satiate the luxury of a curious mind but it grips you in the trance. When we talk of trance then it is the most natural and blissful state. Even when we slowly wither away leaving nothing but crumbles behind. These crumbles are nothing but our existence in the world. The roles that we play when we are here, alive and breathing.

Now, he will sit at that bamboo pole, curious and searching. I wonder what he is up to? Yesterday, it was he who sat there still for an entire span of fifteen minutes and then bend his head out of some curiosity or in contemplation of a master plan. I was looking at him all the time and he, as usual he does not notice me. Let's say, I do not have the mesmerizing scent he is searching for.

I saw it in your eyes. When you closed them, they spoke to me a thousand times before surrendering to the darkness. There was absolution in your eyes. I saw them many a times staring at the leaves of the tree. As if your freedom lies with the every moment a leaf turns yellow and falls into the hush of silent death.

The thunderous applause of the calm waters Startled the spirits and they rose happy In silence the lovers stood Staring at the misty water The fluid water falls on the hard rock A miracle and a boom deafening the senses No chirping no light breeze sways here The time stops by As the river falls but then flows on Life is hard but to proceed with elegance Is one thing our river-soul whispers us. Dhuadhar Jal Prapat read the chapter in class 3 Hindi text book. My wanderer soul skipped a beat. Little Niagara falls in India? When I decided on Bhedaghat it was obvious that I will touch down the falls. It is 2 km from Bhedaghat gorge.  From Amarkantak, Narmada plunges in Dhuadhar to head westward towards Bhedaghat. The auto charged INR 700 as a combo for both the places. The place is about 26 km of Jabalpur. You can avail train to reach Jabalpur Railway Station. The place is well-connected from all the major cities and towns of the country. ...

And as Kareena Kapoor kept on dancing on the tunes of "Raat ka nasha" my eyes were fixated at the backdrop. White marble rocks, the marble on our floor on mountains. Is it for real? That was 2001 and Google was not a staple. So, I did some of the research. I saw the opening credits and Voila! it was Bhedaghat Jabalpur . The encyclopedia in my school told me. So, it was in India and in my very own Madhya Pradesh (I lived in Gwalior).

" बहुत दिन हो गये थे मैं उस शहर मै पओ रखे तोह सोचा कि एकबार घुम आये. पता नही लेकिन इतने सालो में कुछ कम हुई ज़रुर मोहब्ब्त हमरी लेकिन ईश्क तो आख़िर ईतना समझदर कहा थोड़ा लपर्वाह हैं. इस शहर में कुछ तो बात थी की हमारे प्यार को परवान चडा दिया. उनसे मिलने कि कही गुंज़ाइश नहीं थी लेकिन हसरत और आशंका दोनों ही थी. पाव जैसे दौर रहे थे लेकिन आंखे देखने कि हीम्मत नहीं करती."