Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Kothao amar hariye jabar nei mana?



Except in physical time and space. Officey boshe likhchhi churi kore. Transcribe korte korte kaan byatha hoye gyalo.

Idike toh Jadavpur niye hebby golmaal legechhe. Ginger restaurant, Dhupguri, aro koto.Choturdike khali hashtag. Matha guliye jay majhe majhe. 

Aaj ingrijita thik ashchhena. Erom kore keno jani na likhte pari na oi bhashay. Osrodhyar bhasha bangla. No chudurbudur.



Was reading Allie's cartoons on depression (hyperbole and a half), now. I have to try and write a whole proposal by tonight and then come back and work tomorrow. Allie's FB note says:


"And then I briefly lapsed into a self-hatred-fueled badness spiral, and things got real weird. One day I typed the word "fuck" nearly eight hundred times in a row and then felt an overwhelming desire to hit "publish" because I desperately want to be the kind of reckless, daring motherfucker who could care so little."

The language in which I can be reckless, not-giving-shit-types is not English.

What if I didn't continue with this drudgery that is work, getting up in morning, petty quarrels, petty activism, feeling powerful, feeling powerless (in turns)? What if i refused? Well, there's be another (embarrassing) intervention. People will come knocking if i refuse to pick up phone thinking 'something's happened'. And it's not even possible: we must play at normalcy because we don't live on our own anymore. This is the adult life, then? Just make do with meaningless shit that is hateful and meaningless and empty?

Baapre! I sound like an angsty teenager. Allie put sit better:


"[I]t felt like I had been dragging myself through the most miserable, endless wasteland, and — far in the distance — I had seen the promising glimmer of a slightly less miserable wasteland. And for just a moment, I thought maybe I'd be able to stop and rest. But as soon as I arrived at the border of the less miserable wasteland, I found out that I'd have to turn around and walk back the other way."

All around me I see people feeling passionate about things, feeling adrenaline rush, etc. The most I can muster is A) a sense of duty and B) cynicism.

It feels kind of shit to end on that note. Hmm...what else do I have to say?

I want to move to Stockholm with cats and Linus and a PhD acceptance for both of us. I look forward to that, though it fills me with dread: the costs, the logistics, the anxiety: are not things I look forward to. Really badly constructed sentence that. I guess all of us want to move to something that is not here and now. from this job to a better one. From this country to another is just an extension of leaving troubles behind/grass is greener on the other side on a larger physical scale. So am I abandoning ship infested with Modi and RSS and BJP and TMC? I don't know. Though I planned to go for PhD anyway. And Calcutta has really worn me down: I would be angry at people for leaving and not doing things for and in the city. And now I am blaming myself for staying here and not doing/being able to do much. But now at least I understand why people would choose another option: it's easier in any other city. Jobs are easier. Transport is less shit. Accommodations (for middle classes) are not only full of aging retired people fixed in their ways. You have professionals that you can actually trust when it comes to the health of your near and dear ones.
ARGH! What whiney post. It doesn't look too good inside my head, as evinced by what is typed above. That needs to be remedied. Not sure how. 

Thursday, July 10, 2014

This blog is dead. Long live the blog.

Facebook has made me seemingly unable to write anything but snarky one liners bound to get a couple of likes, no more. So am determined to make a valiant effort. To defeat the facebook persona which has exceeded and taken over who I am. To the extent that sometimes I am afraid to be anything but a prolific sharer of political, funny-nerdy, catty stuff.

So I miss Netherlands. Imagine telling me this when I was living in den hagu? I would have laffed. But I miss my room in Dorus. Lying in bed looking at the glorious blue skies--sigh, how memory deceives: mostly gloomy as hell skies--and listening to the quiet being broken by shrieks of gulls and occasionally fellow students (yeah, student housings are weird places). I miss making meals three times a day--and putting on nearly 10 kilos and not fitting into any of the blouses come graduation day--to avoid studying. Falling asleep to Dexter and House on the laptop or Alex Turner's melancholia inducing soundtrack from Submarine. I miss living by myself just for myself--not having to think of others' needs wants desires. Doing as I please: letting my room resemble a battlefield of discarded clothes, shoes and printed articles or cooking elaborate Jamie meals for me. Going by Kelly's (expat shopping) to pick up a bottle of Hopping Hare or Bulmer's pear cider just for me. Going by the wednesday farmers' market to pick up the extremely expensive wild mushrooms for some outlandish Jamie dish requiring 40 ingredients: pied a bleue or some pink oysters. Going by the fancy veggie shop to pick up 250 grams of cherry (finished in an hour) or blackberries or exotic silver onions and fresh borlotti. Going by the Turkish store to pick up haloumi and stopping on the way back at Damocles finding the sudden treasure of 13 and 1/2 Lives of Captain Bluebear, almost new, at €5.

Of course these are things that come to mind looking back. Then I was living in my head: holding imaginary conversations discussing the merits of Hopping Hare with Simon, the rare find of Satanic Verses with Linus and that cumin gouda is a good addition to risotto (he will have a fit!), telling PC about travel to Spain accompanied by Bluebear and so on.

And the same lifestyle: having nothing to do and watching series constantly, here, I ascribe to depression. Oh Calcutta and lack of jobs, whittling away my desire to change, sustain things I do slowly but surely.

Monday, June 3, 2013

First Post(!)

So yeah it sucks to lose all your photos. Everytime I think about it reverberates painfully in the hollow left behind by its loss. But one must learn to move on--though one does not know yet, how, exactly. In the meantime the purple frantic goddess continues to sit atop the refrigerator. I will wait with her.

Monday, December 31, 2012

One line rant

Never want to put myself in a position again where you , you and YOU can hurt me again. Kthanxbye.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

A False Start

I'm disappointed. (Already?) I'm also sleep-drunk, after 30 + hours of train ride through kuasha wreathed landscapes. I want to escape, already. Everything jangles too loudly on my frazzled raw nerves. I imagine them like loosened cables, covered by red piping. And duty-duty-duty-duty-duty-duty-duty calls my name.

Monday, August 6, 2012

So much, so little

The days are going by so soo sooo fast. and yet workwise STILL haven't achieved much. :(
All trips cancelled :( Kittens. Biting my toes and suckling on my earlobe at 2 am :] Brinjals in fruition and desi seeds on their way :) Osian film fest :-/ Kittens downstairs growing bigger and healthier and prettier and somewhat more friendly :) 

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

The City of Dreaming Books

has just arrived by post. Strangely the postman (?) was wearing a sunhat, shorts and summer shirt and also a pair of goggles. Can't wait to get started! The temperature's still under 20 but if you, dear reader, think I'm going to waste this sunny day you're wrong. Off to the park, very soonly