Tag Archives: love

Can’t be better

All beautiful things are worth taking pain for.

I have always found that love is overrated. No I am not a cynic, rather a realist. I have been in and out of relationships and I have witnessed the love fade away. That being said I have also witnessed the so called eternal love stories where they are in deep and blind love, they get married and live happily ever after. But adjustments do form an important part of a ‘healthy’ and long lasting relationship.

I also think that love cannot be among equals. Either one has to love down while the other loves up. If equals do fall for each other their equality may become the issue of conflicts arising from most unexpected of the situations. This loving up & down creates two categories. The ‘good enough’ and the ‘can’t be better’.

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Nisa and Avik fell in love in their college days. They were the perfect example of the borrowed concept of high school sweethearts. Although they were jealousy inducing couple and seemed perfect and were popular among their peers, their friends had a tingling feeling whenever they encountered them hand-in-hand. This was probably because Nisa is dark-skinned and Avik is milky-white, Nisa was an average student while Avik was comparatively intellectually élite. In India where fairness is a measure of beauty and beauty is a measure of love, these kind of relationships are rare. It is rare to see a dark-skinned woman with a ‘fair & handsome’ man. We have been brought up in a society where men are stereotyped as tall, dark, handsome while women have to be fair. Nisa and Avik broke norms. Moral of the story is that according to clichéd beauty concepts Avik is ‘better’ than Nisa and that probably disturbed their friends at some level. But it was impossible to discuss these issues forget about voicing them. They were both engineers, belonged to modern society, wore branded attires and were going to work in an IT giant. Talking ‘trash’ did not suit them.

Nisa was a beautiful woman. She was big bosomed lady and had equally attractive waist line. She knew that she is a head turner which was enhanced by her unquestionable dressing sense. She was perky and could easily make friends. She was soft and used to cry for no reason. Her friends adored her, both men and women. She loved splurging, shopping and smiling. Apart from the fact that everyone knew she was already taken which she voiced with pride, she always acted innocent which made it very difficult for guys hitting on her. But men will be men and she has received her fair share of attention, love-letters and gawking.

Avik was a one of those guys who looked ruggedly handsome in carefully careless scanty beard. He was fair, tall and muscular. His rimless glasses made him even more irresistible. But he was above and beyond looking good. He was intelligent and he was one of the top performers in Nisa’s college. He will truly make you believe that ‘God is unfair’. Avik has also received his ‘fair’ share of attention, love-letters and gawking.

Both Nisa and Avik got placed from campus in Intellitech Consultancy Services, the biggest ITES Company in India and that is where they met Nikhil. Nikhil was a jovial chap. He always maintained a balance between his studies and fun. He paid due attention to his female colleagues but when it came to studies or work he was more than serious. He knew that he was not a brainiac and always tried to compensate it with his hard work and sheer dedication. He had a good sense of humour and easily became friends with Avik and Nisa.

Avik was careerist and within few weeks into their training he started teaching a whole batch of new joinees on the request of his beautiful HR. Company is a totally different ball game when compared to college. Nisa may have enjoyed her popularity because of her big bosom and bigger heart, but at Intellitech the number of girls around increased threefold. They came from all the corners of India in all sizes, shapes and moods and that meant an increased competition and increased sense of insecurity for Nisa. But Nisa was a smart girl and she made a lot of friends, apart from Nikhil. Her insecurity was also diminished by the apathy of Avik towards girls.

After training Avik got a high profile project due to his performance during the training. Both Nisa and Nikhil were benched. Those days were dreamy for Nisa as she got regular salary as pocket money which she spent on more dresses and more. Nikhil got frustrated in those days listening to constant chatter of Nisa. Luckily after about three months they got the same project and same work profile. Nikhil was a guy and he knew the importance of a career. Quickly he assumed a lot of responsibilities and became a dependable employee in the project. Nisa with her laid-back attitude tried to cope up with the corporate life venting out her frustration due to work pressure though frequent exhibition of tears. Nikhil was always there as a friend to wipe them and provide comfort. He considered it as an added responsibility given that his friend Avik was always busy.

The chemistry between Nikhil and Nisa was very much visible to other colleagues in the project and they started teasing them. ‘You are lucky bloke that she is your friend.’ ‘At least introduce us once, we will take care of the rest.’ Nikhil enjoyed the attention as it provided a much-needed relief from the work pressure and answered them with a stupid smile. ‘She is just a friend’, which added more fuel to the fire.

‘You have a thing for him, isn’t it?’ Her boss once said, in front of Nikhil. Nikhil smiled stupidly and tried to ignore her. Nisa was smart and innocent. ‘O, Stop you. Don’t spread or believe these rumours. He is just like my brother.’ Nisa said casually pointing at Nikhil. This really irritated Nikhil. He hated girls who called him like-brother. ‘Don’t ever do that. Don’t ever call me your brother. I am not your brother and I have no intention of being one. I have a sister and she is more than enough. It is like you have a feeling for me and you want to shadow it with a pseudo-relationship tag. “Brother” is an invisible chastity belt for girls. Don’t you worry. Avik is my good friend and I will never hit on you.’

‘Okay, Okay you love birds. Stop fighting. Go to your cubicles and start work now’, their boss stopped the whole thing before it went out of hand. In the meantime Avik was learning and growing really fast in the organisation, but in IT services companies, however big they may be, stagnation dawned as quickly as you learn. Avik switched companies along with city. He got a lucrative offer from Mango Inc., a California-based tech product company. He shifted his base to Bengaluru, the city to be.

Nisa cried again. This time her boss also consoled her along with Nikhil. ‘Stop crying all the time. He will be fine and you can visit him once a month. I will sanction your leave. Now stop your sob.’ But she didn’t and Nikhil was confused this time. ‘What will be the correct and best way to make her stop crying,’ he thought. Her boss tried again. ‘Okay tell me what do you want to be in life?’ ‘I wanted to be an actress.’ Nikhil smiled and thought she would have made a beautiful and successful one. ‘But I can’t, because I am dark. So now I want to be a housewife. I want to marry Avik soon and want to spend money, a lot,’ she said with muffed voice trying desperately to breathe, sob and talk, all at once. ‘But now there is even more distance between us.’

After Avik left the city life became busy for all of them. Nikhil and Nisa found less time to talk to each other. Office colleagues got bored of teasing them once they sensed the futility of their venture and Nisa’s commitment. Nisa also cried less and dropped tears only in case of serious issues like periods, dandruff, unsolvable bug and bad lunch. ‘You are becoming mature’, teased Nikhil at their daily meet during lunch. She smiled and ate silently.

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Nisa has not cried for a long long time, may be weeks. One day, out of the blue the tears reappeared. ‘What happened this time? Did they put extra salt in the sambhar?’ asked Nikhil to cheer her up. She didn’t say anything.

‘O, come on now. Stop crying and speak up’

‘My parents want me to marry’

‘So? Ask Avik to marry you. What is the problem here?’

‘He doesn’t want to marry this soon.’

‘Tell your parents to wait a little then.’

‘I don’t want to wait. I don’t know if I am good enough for him. What if he finds a new one?’

‘If you love him you have to trust him. You have to wait.’ She kept mum.

‘You love him, right?’ She didn’t speak a word. ‘Tell me.’

‘I don’t know.’

This made Nikhil muddled and bold. ‘Then why are you stuck with him? You are beautiful. You can get a lot of guys.’

‘That guy can’t be better than him’

P.S. All characters are fictitious and there is no damn doubt about it.

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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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2012…come on…be kickass!!!

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.” – 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Read from a friend’s post on FB shared from Bible verse.

Christmas is here and new year is near. Shit that was long back. Holy fuck. Fuck Fuck Fuck. What a supercool way to start the first post of 2012, with the holy F word. Sorry loser readers I was a bit high on spirits. Now I am totally dry. BTW, Happy New Year. Well begun is Half done. Half….so clichéd….it is never full. Hope you all started the first half part well. I did not do bad either. Decided to buy Firefox Nitro and start cycling seriously/passionately/just-for-fun/on whim. Now to make it more whimsical, I have decided to write. And write about the most interesting thing on earth (unarguably). Me. Shit, clichéd again. So I decided after reading a post that I will rewrite an ad about myself in the exact way only my name added.

Hello, my name is Tanmoy and yes, I admit it, I pretty much just look at your pictures. Do you actually read these? =P

 

I came from a very small sperm. And, there was this ovum that came from my mom, but I’m pretty sure that I was mostly the sperm part. Later on in my life an ex-girlfriend would say, “100,000 sperm and you were the fastest?”

 

I’m a fun and honest guy and I have an awesome job in an IT biggie (aah…who am I kidding). In person I’m pretty shy when it comes to women…so that’s why I’m hiding behind this computer. And, my skin sparkles like diamonds in direct sunlight.

 

I’m pretty ambitious…I have tried learning French. I have tried to crack CAT. I have tried to lose weight. I have tried to be fairer. LOL.

 

Also, I am not a total fat ass. I try to exercise everyday for 30 minutes on my stationary bike. And, I usually eat fairly healthy.

 

Anyway, good luck to you, because I can have any woman I please. But, apparently so far, I haven’t pleased any of them.

 

Actually, I don’t want to put too much information on here, because I can only handle one woman at a time. =P

 

So, If you want my body and you think I’m sexy…

Come on, sugar, let me know.

 

First Date:

 

You will fan me and feed me grapes…actually it’ll probably be the other way around. =) Maybe we could do something like go shopping so I can buy you a new car. Let me know.

 

But, if we do have a date, or something, then we’ll tell everyone we met when I dropped tea on your feet at tea junction.

Enough of me, now more of me.

I was watching Roadies 9 auditions and it struck me (actually they advertised) that a reality show with 9 seasons in India is not bad. See I am not a big fan of Roadies but I don’t hate it either. I actually love to watch the auditions. I really respect Roadies and Raghu Ram for creating a trend and a dream for the youth, and mind it, I am not going in their content and its quality. There are youths who have been trying to be a Roadie.

Many people think that being a Roadie is cool. I respect them for instilling this thinking in today’s youth. For making Roadie a phenomenon. It takes lot more than hype to make a successful reality show like that.  It is like showing mirror to viewers and showing the joker face residing in everyone. Even my roommate went for the auditions (Yes he is from delhi).

All the best Raghu, Rajiv and Ranvijay.

CAT results are out. Pathetic. So don’t ask and shut the fuck up.

Watch two animated movies back to back. Coraline and Mary & Max. Superb movies. Dark. Not made for humour. Has a deep story and gripping storytelling and screenplay. Must Watch. Also watched Vinnaithaandi Varuvaaya (original of Ek Deewana Tha). Nice movie.

Till then lemme R.I.P.

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Feeling Numb

 

She has been life.

All moments. All humour. All romance. All drama.

Reasons for being her is too tough to imagine.

He doesn’t want to know the reasons. The reasons are not reasonable.

When nothing seems right,

When nothing is mere black and white,

She shows the face of light,

And he thinks it is ray of hope.

She is fair and has brown hair.

She is grey inside. Not white. Not black.

Pure and unadulterated grey.

Each drop of rain they shared,

Each part of air they breathed,

Each touch they experienced

And were memorable.

Memories fade away. People don’t.

Smile brighter than sunshine and tears like dew drops.

Hypnotised by the sheer charm and sparkling eyes and harsh sweet voice.

Each part of his life was sure to contain doubts and questions.

He ran away from each part. One at a time.

And then he met her.

This part, this part right here, he thought, has no doubts.

This part is full of answers he was searching for.

This is his favourite part.

He decided never to run away from this part.

He decided to hold it strong.

His hold was not firm enough or it was too firm.

He lost his grasp and his life.

Permanently crippled and eternally numb.

She said, “I am leaving you because I love you”.

And he used to think, ‘love’ is the reason, you never leave a person.

She left as she had more life to play with.

She left because monotony is not her style.

She left because she cannot part the air she is breathing.

She left because life is too short to stick to one thing you love.

And he used to think that life is too short a time to spend with love.

He wants to run away from this part of life.

She was the reason he wanted to stick.

She is the reason he wants to run away.

Irony of fate or cycle of Karma?

Who knows!

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Spoiler Alert: This is a hate post

Illusion. In this world nobody deserves anybody. Nobody is perfect for the other person. If you think I deserve her or she deserves me, you are in a mere illusion my friend. Wake up! Grow up!!

Few days back I came across an article which claims that a research has proved that women regret more than men on a failed relationship. I don’t know about any research and I don’t care about any. I don’t need to be a PhD in rocket science to comment about relationships (it is tougher than rocket science though) or truths. Experience speaks. The research says that men don’t dwell upon their past so much. I don’t agree. Men are hunters and have been from time immemorial. They dwell more. It is true that they try desperately to move on but for a guy like me it seems impossible. Not only for me, it is tough for all the guys around me. So I considered it as a general rule.

Whereas girls are too fast. I blame the bad men to women ratio in India for all these. They can punch you in the face and ask – did it hurt? And we morons say –Of course not, with a big grin on our face, with one eyebrow raised to emphasise the masculinity.

And guys if you have really stepped into their soft ground, beware, as they can be brutal. If they decide to be cruel even God cannot save you. They can inflict pain to such an extent that even Satan can cry (even if he is a male), and you will be unable to walk throughout your life with a straight spine.

If you see heaven in her face, you are in grave danger because it will haunt you throughout your life.

If you think that she is the one, I bet she is – Run now.

Guys in relationship – Don’t take it personally. Be nice to her always. (Or be ready to face the consequences).

Girls in relationship – I know you all hate me. It is just that your guy has not done anything near to being a moron. If he does you will see yourself how apathetic you can be.

Single guys – Be ready.

Single girls – You are welcome.

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