..a random thought

It was a cold rainy winter night,and I was sitting in my room by my window,watching it drizzle outside,as I logged into my account of the most popular website ever created.A lazy song was playing in my computer,kinda perfect for the weather,and while listening to it,a thought came to my mind.

You spend months wanting this one article, saving up for it. All the while you keep gazing at it through the shop window on your way home. On some days you feel bold, and enter the store with whatever money you have. Sometimes the shopkeeper ridicules you, on other days he respects your spirit, pats your back and asks you to try another time. On a few occasions, you get into ugly arguments, you even find out the guy has brought the price down for you but you still can't afford it. You go back depressed every time, but make sure you hide that product behind others so that nobody else buys it.

Before giving up you decide to make one final bid. You think you have enough money this time. But while walking to the store looking confident, you see that other people have already bought the product. Your dream article, one you believe should have been yours first, is now not unique. Then you realise there is an end-of-the-year discount sign outside the store. Do you still want it, you ask yourself. Yes, you say before going ahead tentatively. But what if you still don't have enough money despite this big discount?  

Will that not break you?

As I leave you with this question,I must apologize to my readers for being so irregular during the last one month or so, and promise to be regular from here on in.Cheers. 

...moving ahead

Of the hundreds of relationships you participate in throughout the course of your roller coaster life — associations of all kind: good/bad, joyful/sad, casual/serious, friendly/hostile, short/long, romantic/heartbreaking and everything in between, there’s always ONE relationship that harrows you like an old wound that refuses to heal. It haunts your mind, frequents your thoughts — maybe because you let it, maybe because you’re reluctant to fight a losing battle when your emotions are swinging like saloon doors on rusty hinges. You live, you breathe, you dream, you repeat — but such austere malady won’t go away and your heart and resolve commit to a constant tug of war, each pulling on one end of your instincts. So you might as well diagnose yourself a royal schizophrenic! Wrestling with your emotions over the dream of someone who still claims so much of your sentiment but is no longer there… well isn’t that lovely.
And so you sit and think.

But you CAN’T think about things like this so you distract yourself!

And it actually works.

Wow, I feel better already.

Goodbye now to the breakdown between thought, emotion and behavior. Farewell to faulty perception and inapt actions and feelings. Goodbye to withdrawal from reality and personal relationships into fantasy and delusion. Good riddance to an overwhelming sense of mental fragmentation!

Life is way too short to worry about the past, and I for one, don’t have time for anxiety.

If you need me, I’ll be in my comfy sweatshirt with a camera staring at the world around me.

maa asche...

It is that time of the year again. The period which I look forward to the entire year. Durga Puja is coming.Its only a matter of days now, as entire Calcutta (i like it that way) gears up to welcome Maa and is lit up in glorious lights, I sit here far, far away from the hub of that one festival I geared up for at least a month ago when I was growing up. Now I am chasing memories, sometimes falling head over heels, getting up again, swallowing that lump in my throat, which I’d like to think of as nostalgia.I can't wait to get back home.

Nostalgia, memories, food and Durga Puja festivities are inseparable.I am thinking on the lines of waking up one crisp, sunny Autumn morning to the intoxicating fragrance of 'Shiuli phool', or rolling in bed to the mellifluous chants of Mahalaya. Wearing a new dress to the 'Pujobari', pandal-hopping like there is no tomorrow, and not even complaining about the shoe bite from which your feet are painfully aching now, and mind you shoe-bite is a serious problem during Durga Puja.

The days leading upto the pujas are usually the most exciting,with plenty of shopping,addaz and so many other fun stuffs.The silvery stalks of slender ‘Kashful’ swaying to the changing winds, the air would be heavy with the ‘pujo pujo gondho'. A willowy breeze would tingle the senses towards evening and a thin blanket would inadvertently need to be curled around our sleeping selves towards morn – the beauty of autumn, the ushering in of winter.

I remember, as the weather readied itself for the Pujo, so did we. Hopping through each others places, we would marvel at the ‘Pujo collections’ from Mamas,Mashis,Pishis and Kakus. More than us, it would be a routine affair for family ladies to be at each other places, apparently to exchange pleasantries, but more so to make sure that nothing in-fashion had managed to elude their entourage! "Pujor Bajar sesh?" would be the ubiquitous question to almost everyone we crossed paths with.

kashful

So,as all those memories come flashing back to me, as I am writing this,I realize that I had planned to put in so many things, but just as the Puja, as with life, nothing goes as planned, and frankly who cares,as long as we have a good time. Pujos are moments of shared joy: of precious memories of walking into a pandal with my parents to see what seemed enormous murtis at age five, fretting over new dresses over the teenage years, hanging out with friends as we grow up and share the joy of seeing Ma Durga in all her splendor all over again.

Maa is coming home..So,am I..:)

..and i am thinking

As I sit down to write this blog, a lot is going on my mind, but that's all random stuff and I can't think, rather can't focus on something in particular that I want to write about.So, a good friend of mine came up with a simple idea to write about 'thinking' itself. Our success in life is due in large part to our ability to think. We are able to use our large, powerful brains for more than just playing back previously recorded programs. We are able to ponder, to synthesize, to question, to analyze, to consider, to speculate, to investigate, to think.

In a world that is increasingly powered by information, thinking skills become more and more important. The world is getting more complex by the minute. Instinctive reactions no longer give us enough skills to survive. We must learn to develop complex thinking skills in order to prosper.

Normally, we don’t ever think about thinking. We just kind of do it as needed. Of course we all go to school as children, where we are hopefully taught how to think, and where we receive some practice in thinking. Yet aside from philosophy courses, we don’t receive very much instruction in thinking. Most of our thinking skills are developed out of the necessity to accomplish some other task, whether it be academic or pragmatic.

The power of thought is something we generally take for granted. After all, thinking requires no physical effort so it doesn’t seem to be that big of a deal. Thinking is an extremely big deal, though. It is a fundamental, essential and powerful ability which can form the basis for literally any achievement you can imagine.Everything you’ve ever accomplished has been accomplished first in your thoughts. And each thing you accomplish in the future will begin with a thought.

Thinking is a lifelong pursuit, and it is important to continually develop and refine thinking skills. Thinking affects every area of life. It can make the difference between success and failure in your career. It can make the difference between good health and sickness. It can make a major difference in your relationships, and in your very enjoyment of life.

So let us all take a moment and put your thinking cap on to ponder upon our life and its happenings, because our thoughts define us and really have a huge influence in our life. Till next time, happy living folks..:)

a midsummer night's dream

I’ll bet a sleepy girl somewhere in the world closed her eyes last night and suddenly found herself twirling.

Twirling hand-in-hand, ballroom dancing with the love of her life. Instead of the worn out nightdress and sweatpants she’d put on before bed, she gasped to find herself draped in the most elegant, exquisite evening gown she’d ever laid her eyes upon. With a humble inward smile, she secretly felt like the most beautiful girl in the room… and believe me, it’s because she was.

She was slightly hesitant at first because everything felt a bit fuzzy and she wasn’t exactly sure who this mysterious admirer was dancing opposite her, but it was both unmistakable and innately obvious that this handsome boy in his striking tuxedo was the ONE. She couldn’t explain it but deep down she KNEW she was dancing with the man of her dreams. He smiled down at her and her knees instantly went weak as a myriad of butterflies threatened to explode from her chest. She couldn’t explain what was happening, she could only feel it. The atmosphere was glistening and the moment was so enchanting, she didn’t even try not to blush.

There was something delightfully familiar about this ballroom duet, this prince and princess swirling and swaying in time with the orchestra. The place was packed and the spiraling motions coated her peripheral vision in a vivid blur of brilliant light and color, but she only had eyes for her boy, and she couldn’t bring herself to unlock her gaze from his. They waltzed and whirled for hours it seemed until she observed a roguish grin sweep across his face before he winked and swept her through an empty doorway and out into the night air. What a stud. She found herself on an open courtyard balcony overlooking a lush green countryside which stretched out for miles in all directions. This was definitely NOT the city she fell asleep in. This was a palace, an old stone castle built right into the rocky bluffs and craggy cliffs of the hills which was silhouetted by the evening sun . She could barely catch her breath. What was happening? Was she in a fairytale?

Twilight approached swiftly as the stars beat down on the old stone veranda and formed pools of light that seemed to shimmer and ripple like tiny oceans. The mysterious boy took her by the hand and led her down a secret staircase that steered them down into the deep evergreen darkness below. The forest reached out to embrace the duo as as a nightly procession of crickets and tree frogs struck up a gentle chorus and serenaded the two lovers deeper into the enchanting arboreal realm. Only the sharpest of eyes peering down from the balcony above could glimpse their silent silhouettes steal through the flower garden, skirt past the goldfish pond, and then disappear into a heavy thicket of blue spruce and white pine.

The eventide deepened and yet she couldn’t brush aside whatever uncanny familiarity this dark, handsome stranger seemed to embody. What was it about this mystery boy? Had she known him before? There was something about his eyes… something enigmatic but beautiful. Was he a stranger from a distant dream? Was he a long-since forgotten acquaintance she’d met long ago? A sudden rush of adrenaline pulsed through her veins. This was beyond words. She marveled silently as they crept through the shadows like thieves, tunneling under the heavy evening hush that hung suspended above the treetops. Her pulse pounded like rising thunder and her eyes grew wide. Suddenly a strange sensation cascaded over her. She felt as though she were made for this moment. This dashing boy, this sense of romance and wonder all around her, this dreamlike reality. She squeezed the boy’s hand and felt him squeeze back.



She’d never felt so alive.

They pressed on into the thick undergrowth until at last the forest seemed to step aside and there in the center of a small clearing, they beheld the yawning mouth of a crystal cavern. The sudden sight struck her with goosebumps but not the kind you get when something frightens you… for this was real, genuine exhilaration. Her cheeks flushed with excitement. The jagged halo of rocks protruding from the hillside reminded her of a skeletal shark mouth, something you’d find in a museum. What was in this cavern? What was it doing here? How deep did it plunge? Where did it lead?

Suddenly the boy turned and smiled at her as if to say “shall we?” before motioning to the cave. Before she could answer, he leaned down and kissed her and in that instant, everything slowed down and she felt as though she could hear the stars overhead flicker and pop with supercharged electricity. The cloudy overcast pulled back and an endless celestial sky opened up above them. The world seemed to burst with energy and light. Still too surprised to utter a word, the tall handsome boy again took her by the hand in the darkness and whispered five words into her ear:

This is not a dream my love.

And then, hand-in-hand, they stepped into the black unknown, ready for anything. The ground heaved and gave way as the mighty sound of rushing wings split the silence like thunder and suddenly they were falling. She felt as though she’d stepped into another world in which gravity had no grip over her. The forest above, the castle in the bluffs, and the deep green countryside all seemed to uproot and plunge into the blackness after them as the great shark’s mouth swallowed them whole. She felt like screaming but not from panic or foreboding, rather a joyful giddy shout of pure bliss. Everything was beautiful and she was perfectly happy in this frozen moment, lost in an unknown world where above all else, she felt what it was like to experience total and overwhelming joy. She closed her eyes and tasted the moment. So this was what falling in love felt like.

When she opened her eyes again, she found herself back at home in her bedroom, everything exactly as she’d left it except for the wide smile on her face and the racing of her heartbeat.

Introverts

Sitting beside my window in this rainy evening put my mind onto certain things..small things,things which I have overlooked in the recent past,'coz of all the hectic course of my life..thinking on these lines,I recollect a conversation with one of my friend Sreyasi Sengupta last night..somewhere we made a point on being an Introvert, and being one myself..I thought whether the so called 'Extrovert' society has a little too much misconception about us.

The problem is that labeling someone as an Introvert is a very shallow assessment, full of common misconceptions. It’s more complex than that.According to science we 'Introverts' are a minority with only 25 percent people in our club.(I love to use the word club).But since we are a minority,this leads to a lot of misunderstandings, since society doesn’t have very much experience with our people.

So here are a few common misconceptions about Introverts .A list I put this list together myself:

Myth #1 – Introverts don’t like to talk.

This is not true. Introverts just don’t talk unless they have something to say. They hate small talk. Get an introvert talking about something they are interested in, and they won’t shut up for days.

Myth #2 – Introverts are shy.

Shyness has nothing to do with being an Introvert. Introverts are not necessarily afraid of people. What they need is a reason to interact. They don’t interact for the sake of interacting. If you want to talk to an Introvert, just start talking. Don’t worry about being polite.

Myth #3 – Introverts are rude.

Introverts often don’t see a reason for beating around the bush with social pleasantries. They want everyone to just be real and honest. Unfortunately, this is not acceptable in most settings, so Introverts can feel a lot of pressure to fit in, which they find exhausting.

Myth #4 – Introverts don’t like people.

On the contrary, Introverts intensely value the few friends they have. They can count their close friends on one hand. If you are lucky enough for an introvert to consider you a friend, you probably have a loyal ally for life. Once you have earned their respect as being a person of substance, you’re in.

Myth #5 – Introverts don’t like to go out in public.

Nonsense. Introverts just don’t like to go out in public FOR AS LONG. They also like to avoid the complications that are involved in public activities. They take in data and experiences very quickly, and as a result, don’t need to be there for long to “get it.” They’re ready to go home, recharge, and process it all. In fact, recharging is absolutely crucial for Introverts.

Myth #6 – Introverts always want to be alone.

Introverts are perfectly comfortable with their own thoughts. They think a lot. They daydream. They like to have problems to work on, puzzles to solve. But they can also get incredibly lonely if they don’t have anyone to share their discoveries with. They crave an authentic and sincere connection with ONE PERSON at a time.

Myth #7 – Introverts are weird.

Introverts are often individualists. They don’t follow the crowd. They’d prefer to be valued for their novel ways of living. They think for themselves and because of that, they often challenge the norm. They don’t make most decisions based on what is popular or trendy.

Myth #8 – Introverts are aloof nerds.

Introverts are people who primarily look inward, paying close attention to their thoughts and emotions. It’s not that they are incapable of paying attention to what is going on around them, it’s just that their inner world is much more stimulating and rewarding to them.

Myth #9 – Introverts don’t know how to relax and have fun.

Introverts typically relax at home or in nature, not in busy public places. Introverts are not thrill seekers and adrenaline junkies. If there is too much talking and noise going on, they shut down.

Myth #10 – Introverts can fix themselves and become Extroverts.

BULL SHIT..WE ARE HAPPY WITH WHO WE ARE..WE DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT US. :)

It can be terribly destructive for an Introvert to deny themselves in order to get along in an Extrovert-Dominant World. Like other minorities, Introverts can end up hating themselves and others because of the differences.
If you are an Introvert,I would suggest you to feel proud of what you are, and think to yourself, what good would it do, to constantly blabber about everywhere and 'Extroverts' need to recognize and respect us, as we need to respect ourselves.


PS: DEDICATED TO SREYASI, AND ALL THE OTHERS WHO SHARE THE SAME FEELING AS ME..HAPPY LIVING.

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You cringe at each creak on the old warped stairs but that doesn’t sway your determination to reach the second floor. Your gaze is fixed on the top rotten step as you endure the climb. The walls watch. Things crawl under your skin.

The servant’s door shrieks on its hinges as an endless corridor empties into a dark master bedroom, occupied by a moth-eaten canopy bed dripping with cobwebs. Sallow peeling wallpaper sheds from the walls like dead snakeskin and flutters to the floorboards as you brush past. In the corner on a tattered rug sits a child’s wooden rocking horse, the seat worn smooth, the corded mane and tail coated in dirt. A mahogany chest of drawers stands lifeless with the top drawer still pulled out as if someone left in a hurry; a cracked mirror clings to the wall just above it, but you know better than to catch a glimpse of yourself in it.

The air is thick and heavy and it seems you inhale the shadows around the room as they cower and shrink back from the light of your candle. Their twisted silhouettes and outlines bottleneck in your throat like dead leaves circling a drain, and during this moment it becomes obvious that the quiver of a gentle candle flame may not be enough to keep the ghosts under the stairs… from coming out.

Slipping back the way you came, you creep down the hall like a thief and peer over the broken banister. Below lies a sad arrangement of disarray… sheets draped over furniture, tattered curtains hanging by mere threads, a cold stone fireplace, wet rotten holes in the plaster walls, a chandelier with broken strings of crystals, a man’s derby hat still hanging from a coat rack, and all manner of papers and debris strewn about the room.

THE WALLS LEAN IN.

Your blood suddenly stirs. Someone is crying in the room above you. Behind you are the attic stairs.

Your body’s reaction to the sudden drop in temperature sends an icy chill down your spine like a razor blade. A window is open somewhere. A dead breeze wafts the scent of mold and decay over you as the orange pinch of flame atop your stump of candle flickers once, twice, and then is gone. The darkness settles over your head and shoulders like a deathly bridal veil as your heartbeat quickens and goosebumps spread across your flesh. A foul dust in the air coats your tongue with a stale film and turns your throat to dry cotton. Now directly in front of you, like a tomb in a mausoleum, the attic door stands wide open, hanging by one hinge. There is movement in the walls.

Each stair screams out in pain as you ascend into the pitch darkness and both hands grip the wooden banister for fear of stumbling and falling backwards. At the summit, a few paces into the room, a lightbulb chain hangs in the blackness and you hold your breath as you give it a sharp tug. Nothing. Instead of flooding the room with light it seems to deepen the shadows even more, stirring up darkness like a diver stirring up soot in the belly of a shipwreck. You can’t see your hand in front of your face. Sweat soaks through your clothes, a hammer pounds at the insides of your chest and hot shivers cascade down your backbone. The silence is deafening.

Suddenly something moves in the room. You want to scream but you can’t. The sound of fingernails tear and claw at a chalkboard. A door slams somewhere downstairs. Hot tears spill down your cheeks. The mirror in the master bedroom crashes to the floor. Something moves toward you in the darkness. Your body commands you to make a break for the staircase but you’re far too paralyzed to move. Someone is screaming downstairs, shrieking with murderous ferocity, wailing with misery like a lamenting sailor’s widow. Footsteps pound down the second story hall from the master bedroom and pause at the foot of the attic stairs. Your vision blurs.

They know you’re here...

Just some random thoughts on a gloomy overcast rainy day...maybe..but i ask myself, 'Is real life much different from this?'