Category Archives: relationships

Sweet n Sour

freedom-bird

I was a free bird. I am. I have big wings. I loved to fly. More than the flying I love to solve aerodynamics problem with wings spread wide.

She promised a lot. Promised me to let me fly whenever I wanted. Promised me not to touch my aerodynamics notebook ever. Promised me a bright future and new cage.

After twelve years a slave and innumerable ‘What-If’ Analyses…

Me: I don’t like you anymore. You have turned sour.

She: But grapes are sour too. And you love grapes.

Me: And so are lemons, but lemon and grapes have long legs and OMG lips. They both are presentable and eatable. Lemons and Grapes are naturally tangy. You are not even close to Tang.

She: What about cherries? You licked them so much.

Me: They are not red anymore. They have turned black.

She: And the berries?

Me: They are not black anymore. I like Apple better. Apple is sweet.

She: But I am sweet!!

Me: No sugar, you are not.

She: You can’t do this to me. All birds are dogs. I have lost faith in humanity.

Me: Tell me about it. I lost my faith in humanity when Kick made over 100 cr. You are late baby.

Err…Wait…How are we all dogs?

She: I donno. Dogs are adorable.

Me: You are adorable. Sour and adorable. Sour adorable bitch.

Freedom

P.S. This is nothing fancy. Just an abstract abstract of the conversation between a bird and his master Miss Canine Lovelace, affectionately known among her peers as Lady Loveless. If you are still overthinking you have too much time to waste. Go watch hindi movie.

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You are Beautiful

How beautiful am I? – You ask.

You ask me how beautiful you are?

I will tell you how beautiful you are.

You have the most beautiful soul on earth.

You are so beautiful that

Your beauty inflicts pain.

It really aches to see someone so beautiful like you.

Sometimes I feel so empty because of your beauty.

I am not an atheist.

But whoever created, conceptualised you

That craftsman and her creativity need Salute

The satisfaction and excitement of mystery

And discovering the new you every moment

Is never satiated

Amazing it is to find someone

With lethal grace

With crystal clear eyes

With sunshine smile

With vibrant air

With never ending legs

And country roads arms

Which make your travel feel nostalgic

You pose and laugh and play with innocence

While making silly faces

And you ask – But, How beautiful am I?

Again.

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How to woo girls – A loser’s guide

 

Wooing girls has always been considered as an art. It needs passion, endurance, inborn capabilities and lots and lots of practice. I thought to myself, why not analyse this art and prepare a synopsis for a cookbook. I am an expert (certification and 97.5 patents pending with the cupid).

After lots of analysis, closed room discussions with myself and my beer bottle (and belly) and incessant staring at the stars I have reached to a revealing conclusion. The conclusion is whether a guy is interested or not interested in a girl he will behave to impress a girl, without fail. He will behave according to the strategy he has created from his teens (or way before), the strategy (may or may not have been successful) which he thinks fits him the best and which will (in his own small world) make a girl go crazy (and wet). So I have decided to categorise guys and look for the girl which will suit you the best. For starters I do believe that ‘opposites attract’.  People always try to look person who has all the qualities they have only dreamt about in themselves. So here is a small excerpt. The cookbook is still cooking (baking to be exact).

The decent devils

These guys are like coconut or melons. Tough from outside and sissy soft from inside. He will always act rowdy in front of others and will talk softly to each and every girl he meets. The girl community will form and opinion that you are very decent and you will always try to break their belief. This has a dual advantage. You can do whatever you want and still be considered as a ‘good’ guy.

If you do feel that you are one of these kind then watch a lot of movies based on split personality (like Fight Club, Spider Man or Secret Window). These movies will enrich you and portray you as a pseudo-intellectual loser stud. And believe me pseudo-intellectualism is a huge head-turner for most of the women. The girl which will suit you is typical ‘ghar-ki-bahu/behenji’ types. These girls will be super committed and will also allow you to act rowdy. You can actually make fun of them in front of everybody and they will not mind. Isn’t that a cool way to satisfy tour piggish little ego?

The BiKing Boys

Ah..you have a spelndor,passion,FZ,fazer,apache,pulsar then you are ready for a go. Girls love bikes. At least, most of them. They love the fluttering of their hair sitting on the pinion while the chauffer guy escorts them to a mall. These guys pretend that they don’t care about mileage and can drive bhery bhery fast. And they can even drive a bike keeping their both hands in air (old school?).

If you do fall in this category then spend minimal on yourself, because the girls whom you are going to patofy are very expensive (financially and emotionally). But there are certain tricks. You kind of girls love movies and ice-cream. So in that case you have to spare pend only Fridays with them. Rest of the week they are busy gossiping.

The farting flirts

These are the guys who think farting in front of girl is damn cute. Their fart is always those sweet and dangerous. They have a small *beeep* sound or a sweet humming sound which comes out momentarily from their rear window.

If you fall in this category you should and would look for a girl who smokes or the one who loves to smell. One who smokes will never complain because her olfactory glands have lost their sensitivity to smell (hope their other glands are working). The one who loves to smell will go crazy about you as she not only loves you but you as a complete person with all the intangible (and abstract) qualities you have. If you really want to keep (or woo) this girl eat a lot of cabbage and radish and cauliflower. This kind of diet will keep your relationship in balance.

The handsome hunk

These kinds spend hours in gym and more hours shaving their armpits. They smell good and taste even better (no personal experience cited). They have an obsession for sunglasses. They have feeling that they can woo every girl and believe me, at the end of the day, they can.

So, you fall in this category. Feeling lucky about your genes and mirror eh? If you do belong here then keep a comb and mirror (the ones sold in local trains) always with yourself, you may not get a washroom to look good everywhere. You should always look for a girl with super-model looks. You don’t have to care about the words like ‘cultured’ and ‘classy’ because your girl will never bother about them. She will be too proud of herself and too engrossed in her shallowness and facial (no pun intended). And don’t forget to worship Hrithik. When your girl screams ‘OOHH MY GAWD’ in the bed, she is actually referring to Hrithik.

The Mama’s boy

These kinds of guys take permission from home to go to pee. They use local transport to travel and never have driven a bike because it is too dangerous (as his mom says).Specifically suited for arranged marriages, these guys love their family and cheating does not appear in their dictionary. Their body structure can range from too lean to guys with dudeterus.

If you fall in this group and brave enough to accept it then ‘salute’. You should look out for an independent girl who loves freedom. The girl should have a Royal Enfield so that you can capture her pinion. Remember Deepika in ‘Karthik calling Karthik’? And she should never ever wear a saree. She should teach you to drink whiskey and act as your second mom. She should take you out for a stroll every day in the evening for some fresh air.

The frustrated frat

These kind of guys are super shy and super duper frustrated losers. They always hang in groups and can be spotted in different malls passionately pursuing their hobby ie. Girl watching. They may even fall in love and will wait for a glimpse of the girl of their dreams but will never ever have the guts to talk.

So if you are this kind of loser then it is probable that you masturbate a lot (and I can’t define lot). And you are so egoistic that you are actually waiting for a girl who would come up to you and fall on your feet. You, my friend need medication or a bold girl. You are looking for a girl who (and her commitment) will be your asset to flaunt. Best of Luck with that.

The ‘I don’t care ones’

These guys are also seen in bunch and they feel like pride of lions. They think show that they don’t care a shit about girls (but are not considered gay) but secretly try to get a girls attention. Actually they are the hungriest kind and their every move is targeted to woo girls.

If, my friend, you are here then believe me you just need a goddamn girl. You are not racist and don’t believe in discrimination of opposite sex based on caste, colour, creed, whims and size. The day a girl will give you the tiniest amount of ‘patta’, you will run to the nearest temple to pay homage to God.

The Best Friends

These guys are a more like girls (not gay). They always hang around with bunch of girls and are best friends with many of them. They cry and share feelings. They are very well behaved and open minded (at least it seems so).

If you are one of these, then don’t worry. You will get a girl. You will always be the backup plan of you best friends. So as soon as your friend goes through a breakup jump along and if you are lucky then she may even consider you. And if you are the reason of their breakup then you are screwed, because even if she breaks up with that guy you will always carry the tag of best friend throughout your life.

The list is not exhaustive and the categorisation above can be elaborated and bent in many ways.

I know that most of the guys will deny that they fall in any of the category above but the girls will know that some way or the other they do resemble, may be the tiniest amount.

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Confusion and Red Rose

Aah a day to celebrate love. Cliched. I would rather masturbate and go to sleep.

V day has never been a day of importance to me. It has always been a day of confusion. I still remember that day when I took the ‘Red’ rose, stealing it from my dad’s garden, with me in my school bag and brought it back on my way back home. I am still confused as why I took the flower to school. Is it because I was hoping for a girl who would come up to me and say, “Hey, can I have your flower? You can take my candy instead.” Or was I apprehensive of the fact that people will laugh at me if I don’t take a flower to school on the Vday. I was in class five then.

I got my first kiss on V day. I remember it because it was my first kiss. I realised it later that I celebrated love. It was fast, sensuous and moist. And confusing because it was new.

This year people asked (I apologise for their stupidity), what am I doing on the ‘day’. I gave them a completely stupid and confused look (exhibiting honestly the feeling inside me) and said, “I donno.” I lied. I do know what I will do tomorrow. I will wake up. I will brush and shit (I wish tomorrow it is heart-shaped). I will go to office and (try to) solve bugs. Then I will fall in love with every next girl I will see in office. Then I will return home and eat and sleep. The funny thing is, many of us who are very close to real life will have more or less the same day as mine.

Don’t do that.

Love instead.

Love yourself, your vicinity.

Love air and love aroma.

Not only tomorrow but everyday.

Do something before you file a missing report of your balls.

I celebrated Vday by writing a small post (tomorrow office).

What are you waiting for?

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That’s Why

Why? Why?

Let me tell you a small story.

This is the story of boy. And the boy is in Kolkata. Kolkata International Book Fair was in the city. He loved to read. He loved to smell. Smell the books.

So he went to the Book Fair. He bought few and smelled few. And he indulged himself in some gastronomic pleasure. It is traditional in Kolkata to munch something while you shop. And he did the same. While returning from ‘Milan Mela’ ground, he and his friends decided to hop into Arsalan for some ‘Biriyani’. Arsalan was full, so they headed to Aliah near ‘Dhormotolla’ and had ‘Biriyani’ and ‘Kebabs’ and ‘Phirni’. He loved calling himself a foodie and was proud of his taste buds. While returning home he took a bus. And the realisation happened there.

The bus was moving at a very slow pace, very typical to the average speed of Kolkata city buses, that too on a holiday. He got himself a window seat, rested his tired but happy body, and started enjoying the ride. He started watching the scenery outside. He felt as if the the city is trying to share her joy and warmth with him by rubbing her nose with his. He rubbed back and smiled. While moving his head slightly out of the window and enjoying the cool breeze, he thought he looked like a dog who is enjoying his flowing hair, to people on the roads.

As soon as the bus stopped near Rabindra Sadan, a bunch of people got into the bus, and his tranquillity was broken by the sudden hustle inside the bus. The conductor of the bus, in a very harsh voice asked everyone to move towards the end of the bus and make space for other passengers.

He was sitting in the front seat and the space in front of him got occupied by a group which he considered to be a part of the lower strata of society. He tried not to look at them as it would hamper his dreamy world, he thought, but a kid from the group, due to the crowd in the bus, was forced to sit in his lap. Her mother looked at him and smiled. He noticed that the group was big. There were 6 kids, a man and a woman, probably the parents, most of them wearing torn but clean clothes. The smallest one was in the lap of his mother, who was struggling to gain balance in the suffocating crowd of the moving bus. Then the next, around 4-5 years old, got hold of the window and was enjoying the scenery outside with his elder sister, the one forced to sit in the lap. The father was instructing everyone to stick together, otherwise they may get lost. The mother was stopping her kids from keeping their body parts outside the bus. It seemed that this as their first day outside, at least for the mother and few of her kids. They looked happy and amazed.

He hated the scene. He hated the way the kids were enjoying the scenery outside. He thought the window and the scenery as seen from it, belongs to him, and cannot be shared with those lower status kids. They talked, laughed and giggled in ‘bhojpuri’. When the conductor asked for ticket from them, the father said that they don’t have money. The conductor mumbled a few expletives to them and said, ‘Why do you people get on the bus when you don’t have money. Why do you come to Kolkata?’

He got amazed when the expletives uttered by the conductor did not steal the happiness from their faces, and when the conductor did not force them to get down from the bus. There was a boy around 14 years old with them. He seemed to be the eldest one and posed as ‘know-it-all’ in front of his other siblings. He explained the brands of cars moving on the road and warned everybody to keep their heads inside the bus. As soon as the bus passed the ‘Victoria memorial’, there was a sudden wave of excitement on the kids’ face. The y all looked at the memorial which was well lit at that moment of time with the moon just visible in the sky. The kid who got hold to the window pane, pulled the fringe of his mother’s sari with his small hands and said, ‘Ma, Look Victoria.’ And the mother who was busy balancing the baby and saving her other kids, leant a bit, and started looking at the ‘Victoria memorial’ with joy, amusement, astonishment and pain in her face.

And, at that specific moment felt ashamed. He realised that the window and the city Kolkata did not belong to him. It is to be shared and enjoyed. He felt that all mothers are same. Same as the city. They are busy protecting their kids and at the same time want to feel the happiness on their kids face. They feel secure with their husbands and are mesmerised by bright lights and monumental structures. The mother bent further and started enjoying the view outside with her kids. The girl sitting in his lap, for a moment, tried to push her hands outside the window and feel the air. He took her hand and forced it inside and said, ‘Don’t do that, it is dangerous’, with an authority like a big brother. He was happy again.

And that’s exactly why.

That’s why I love Kolkata. I love the smell in the air, the warmth in the sunlight. I love the Rabindra Sangeet that is played at the traffic signals. I know people will get pissed at the music during summers in a crowded bus stuck in traffic jam, but they will nevertheless love it. I love the metro trains, the underground subway, park street rolls, biriyani. I love underground, Someplace Else. I love City Center, South city. I love Durga pujo and Saraswati Pujo. I love Yellow taxi and green autos. I love shuttles and ‘dada ektu adjust korun na’. I love the way this city accepts. The way it has place for every person. It takes care of everyone. People from different city, state, country are happy here. I love Academy and Nandan. I love Oh! Calcutta and New market and Shree Ram Arcade. I love the crowd of Goriahat and silence of Rajarhat Highway. I love Metro, Jaya, Adlabs and Inox. I love radio Mirchi, miniskirts and ‘lal-paar-sada-saari’. I love when on a weekend some Bengalis are taking part in Kolkata marathon while some are spending it as a weekend trip at Mondarmoni, while some are reading ‘Anadabazaar Patrika’ with a cup of tea and ‘maarie’ biscuit enjoying the first rays of sunlight. I love St. Paul’s Cathedral, the morning walk in Victoria Memorial Park. I love the KC Paul as well as KC Dass. I love Haldiram’s and I love the parks filled with couples exhibiting love in parking places. I love the ITC House, Chatterjee International and S.D.F. I love Dalhousie and Sector 5.  I love Burrabazaar and Saltlake. I love park Circus and College Street. I love Esplanade, Chandni, Chang Wah and Tolly Club. I love BBD Bag and Ultadanga. I love EM Bypass and Khanna Haat. I love Tollywood and fish.

I love hope.

I love Kolkata

~dedicted to 14th February – the day to celebrate love.

P.S. The spellings of the places are not to be used in spell bee. They are intentionally used to keep the feel of the place intact and has been tried to bring close to the colloquial language.

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Letter

To You,

I have drunk a lot

But I will not cry.

Ridiculous?

I am sad.

I’m drunk.

I don’t usually get sad (even if I get dunk).

At least when I get drunk.

So, lets say I have drunk more than avg.

I miss you. I really miss you,’

I don’t have you.

I don’t have to be you.

I want a girl who knows me as well as you.

As if I can share my life with me.

But I really miss you.

I will never call you.

But I will feel the void.

I want you back but not in a normal way.

You know you were who mattered in my life. That’s pathetic. Even if I had cared for you at any point of my life, just dream and be a stone.

 

It is funny that every time I write I try to create a controversy. Is it true or just an exaggeration? I wrote the above paragraph when I was high. Now back to the present.

It is a bit strange that after so many days you called and asked me a question which I expected (not prayed). I prayed that you will ask me, “Are you happy?”. But I know You. You will never answer my prayer. But You answered my expectations. I expected you to ask me something which I will never expect. Something which has nothing to do with me being a being who is trying to survive (and so is everyone). A question which is trivial enough to be asked when you are non-trivial to be answered. So you asked it. “Can you leave cigarette?”

And ironically I answered. I answered in a way which is comforting to me more than it is to you. You know, truth gives hope. I used to think that if I speak my heart to someone, then that person will give heart for me. Not anymore. Now I pretend. You have gifted me a permanent fear of trust. Thank You. Thank You for this lovely feeling of ‘being uncomfortable’ throughout life. If I feel uncomfortable that means I am still breathing. Miracle.

So I answered and answer didn’t give hope. Not to you neither to me. So I avoided the risk of hopes being shattered. Although I am very used to this ‘hopes shattered’ kind of thing from my childhood (may be the reason for my introvert-ness), I still avoid it.

Take Care

And Keep laughing

And continue to make this world (not mine) a happy place to live in.

Me.

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Visual Effects

The title of the post is a bit random and inappropriate. It should be ‘Visual Love’ rather than ‘Visual Effects’, but I will stick to it is catchy. Or rather ‘Effects of Visual Love’. Visual Love is part of human life. We all are victims of it (and sometimes the object of love too). We fall in love and fantasize every visible object around us. Compared to the so-called ‘real-love’, this kind of love has time constraints. Visual Love can vary in timespan from few seconds to days to few hours to max-a-month. But that is it. Not more than that. May be that’s the beauty of it. Momentary pleasure and eternal lingering. Gawking and increase in heartbeat may seem mutually exclusive but the combination is deadly. Just imagine that particular moment when you see a person in local train, bus, lift, lobby, tv and you fall in love. Instantly. And the person is gone by the end of the day or at the end of an overnight slumber. Funny but true story. But some visual loves do take a long time to forget and touches lives.

Patna

Abhi knows he is a victim. Victim of random planetary movements. She did not come to the coaching. He has been waiting for over an hour. Her class ends at 6:00 pm, he knows that for sure. He never misses a chance to have a glimpse of her. This can be his last chance. He hates the fact that his dad is getting transferred to Bombay. He will have to appear for Boards from there only. Again change of schools and new friends. His dad has promised him ‘no transfers’ after his boards. But he does not want to leave patna. He first saw her one month back when he was coming out of R.K.Singh Coaching classes and she was entering Acme Sureshot Coaching, just across the road. Since then he has been on time. Monday, Wednesday, Friday 5 to 6 in the evening he will wait just to have a glimpse of her. He did not want her look at her. He was too scared. She never looked. He does not know her name. He knows very well the he is a non-existent person in her life but thanked God that at least their coaching classes’ routine coincides. But today is his last day in Patna. They are leaving tomorrow morning. So to have a last glimpse he drove his cycle and waited. Waited for more than an hour. It is 6:30 now. She has not come. Her friends, talked, giggled and left. He has to go home now or his dad will be very angry and his mother will be very anxious. He loved his mom and was scared of his dad. He left or he will miss tomorrow morning’s train.

Kolkata

That feeling of missing a train is coming back to Dia. She hated that. She has always been a dizzy headed, rom com lover girl. She loved it when a single random guy pays attention to her. She feels like a princess. Back in college there was a dearth of decent guys and she had even started believing that decent guys don’t exist. But after joining this MNC everything changed. World is different now and it is filled with random cute, lovable and decent creatures known as men. Or were all them same, seeming decent in branded outfits? She wondered. Lunch time is the best time in her tiring day full of work. At that time she can spot him. He ate from 1:30 to 2:00 pm, sat at the same place, and had fun with his colleagues.  She always entered the canteen at 2:00 so that she can have a glimpse of him. Just a glimpse. No more no less. She does not want to be a stalker. Or is she? She wondered. Her mother has been pushing her for marriage from the very moment she got the job. She knows that in her hometown, patna,  girls are considered burden and she hated that. She wants a decent guy who knows how to respect women, and she thought Bengalis are decent. She loved the city Kolkata and its spirit and its men. But that one particular man has caught her eye. She thought, he has the cutest bum and sexiest jawline in the office. But she never got a chance to talk to him. How can she, being a girl. She did not know his name and moreover he has never, ever looked at him, not even for a millisecond.

That feeling of missing a train is coming back. She fears that she will again start asking the question ‘what if’. The question has bothered her from her teens. She still misses the guy who evidently stalked her for a month. She was so scared initially that she thought of going to the police or her impending boards would have been ruined. Later she realised that the guy has no guts to go up to her and talk. She waited, and waited until one day he disappeared.

She will not let this happen this time. She decided that she will get his employee id and will mail the canteen guy. Her colleagues told her that it’s pretty lame to send an e-mail, rather she should ping him. And she did.

Hi

-Hi

I am dia.

-I am Kush.

5th floor. Your building.

-I know dia. You have been stalking me for the last one month in the canteen.

What an asshole!!! Decent? My foot.

Bombay

‘Passengers of Kingfisher 3571, from Bombay to Patna, are requested to head to gate no 4 for check-in.’- the loudspeaker announced in a robotic droning voice with a faint touch of femininity. Abhi is going to Patna after 10 years to attend one of his friend’s wedding. He stood up and started picking up his luggage. As he was waiting for his turn in the queue, he spotted a couple in the queue expressing their love openly. He hated queues and couples cuddling in public. He waited impatiently for his turn. He hated the couple, may be because he is still single and going to attend a marriage.

The wedding was lavish. The groom, his long-time friend was a writer and the bride was an investment banker. They met on facebook and fell in love. ‘What a tragedy’, Abhi thought. He is still single and looking for love. May be he should get one of those profiles on facebook thingy. His taste was too old fashioned. He tried to mingle with his old friends from Patna with a glass of Smirnoff Vodka and lime soda in his hand.

‘Hey dude, remember that chick’.

The words were addressed to him by a fat guy whose name he forgot, the third time in the evening. He was least interested in looking at a random chick at his friend’s wedding and seem desperate.

‘That’s Dia and her husband Kush. They live in bambai now. Remember you stalked her for like a month. Dude you were pathetic back then.’

Those words caught his interest. He looked at them and realised that they were the same couple from airport queue.

‘I am pathetic even now’, he thought and hated the couple more. And then he smiled.

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