Every time this time of the semester rolls around, I feel an overwhelming sense of confusion! A thousand emotions hit me at full-speed and leave me reeling! It's that time again..the end of another school year...already from freshman to sophomore to junior! I have no idea how this happened or when..i just know that it's happening way too fast and I really need to pause and take a breather. I need time...time to think, time to feel, time to experience and enjoy my years as a student. I'm not ready to step into the "big, bad world"...how do you really know when you are? But that's not why I'm confused...not why I'm so overwhelmed...it's the impossible sense of loss and sadness that grips me that is most confusing! Why do I feel this way? It's just the end of another year...there's 2 more to go and yet...every time I sit back in my chair and reflect on the last 2 years...the excitement, the exhilaration, the fun, the joy, the laughter, the winning, the celebrating and the friendships...I feel an inexplicable sense of pain. This year more so than before. I think it's because the end of this year marks the end of being babied...of having everything laid out for me...next year I spend a semester abroad and when I come back...everything will have changed...no more "adda" in the Jewett lobby, heck! no more Jewett at all! Off-campus, living our own lives...away from the madness of campus life...it's going to be so different...so strange. Packing your entire life into boxes and suitcases makes you realize how dispensable everything is. Shows you how everything can change in a matter of seconds...the once bedecked walls of my room, now lie bare and stark. The messy room lies in ghostly silence...in 4 days I fly home...home is happiness...that warm, snuggly feeling in the pit of my stomach...and yet this sense of absence and change and solitude looms large in the back of my mind. For, when I come back...everything will be different...everything will have changed and moved on...people will have changed...people may have forgotten...I think my biggest fear lies in being forgotten. I always want to know I've touched peoples' lives the same way they always touch mine. It's a strange feeling...it's impossible to explain...happy yet sad, accomplished yet afraid, surrounded by friends yet lonely, moving yet stagnant. To all my friends, I just want to say...you make my life brighter, better and happier...I love having you around...to talk to, to annoy, to fight with, to party with, to love, to complain to and to just be there for you...I hope nothing changes even though I know, a lot will...to Spring 2011!
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Sometimes...
Sometimes all a girl wants is a little romance.
Tiny gestures, little things...flowers, chocolates, poetry, candlelight and some wine...Is that so strange? So alien? Is romance only the stuff of romantic comedies and romance novels? An archaic concept? Unfamiliar ground?
The world keeps spinning at a steady pace but no one has time.
What changed? Why did chivalry, romance and true love get lost in the pages of history? Why do women always want equality? And why do men believe them when they say they do, at least in matters of the heart? Who told men that the fairer sex no longer wanted those long-stemmed roses, serenades and violins? And when did we lose our right to being treated like the world by that special someone?
All a girl wants sometimes...is for her life to be a romantic comedy...where everything is perfect and incredibly romantic at the end...
Monday, 14 September 2009
The Power of Sound
On a cool summer night,
With the crickets abuzz,
I suddenly heard
What might constitute chaos.
I heard a raven caw,
An owl hoot in response
And then there was an uproar,
Of feathers, beaks and claws.
I ran toward it but I was too late.
I saw a baby squirrel lying in her grave.
Torn from limb to limb, she was a sorry sight
And all around her mourned the creatures of the night.
They weren’t to be seen
But their sounds were everywhere
And that is when I understood,
The power of sound in the night air.
Tuesday, 30 June 2009
Everyday Things...
Steaming Vanilla Lattes in Styrofoam cups,
Frosted breath on the cold window
Waiting for the bus…
Getting ready to go!
In walks the Professor
Clicker in hand,
There come the dreaded papers
I can barely stand…
I look out at the snow
Piling up on the sidewalk
And think of distant Kolkata
Reeling in summer’s shock!
Cherry trees blossom
Tulips in full bloom
The sun shines brightly
Driving away the gloom
Up we go,
The plane flies high
Over the sparkling ocean
Through the blue sky
Twinkling lights greet me
The seat belt sign switches off
My bags take hours and finally…
The pollution makes me cough!
Home is where the heart is
Somebody was right
It never felt so good
To step into the Kolkata night…
Wednesday, 29 April 2009
The City of Wonder....
When you live half way across the world, you really gain perspective. Of who your loved ones really are and who your fair weather friends seem to be. When you're not around everything changes. People change, feelings change, relationships change but most of all...the city changes....
Born and bred a true Bangali, it is hard to quench my thirst for all that is identified with my culture. The maach-bhaat, Pujo, pollution, clash of old and new, rosogollas and ultimately PUCHKA! All of these eventually get rolled into one big ball of Bengali-ness and thrown into the corner of my memory while I live in a foreign land and try to enjoy the foreign-ness.
When I say the city changes, I obviously refer to Kolkata, my hometown. When I say it changes, I don't mean it physically changes even though I'm sure in the year I've been away, it has physically evolved and grown. What I mean is, it's place and stature in my mind changes everyday until the point where it is just a romanticized figment of my imagination. I am sure this holds true for every individual that leaves their country in pursuit of better things in another.
At this point, even though it has only been 10 months, I have forgotten the heat, the pollution, the traffic, the population, the poverty and all those seemingly unpopular aspects of my city. What I remember and hold close to my heart is the the pulsating energy of the city, the taste of cool lebu'r jol on a hot summer's day, the smell of khichuri wafting through my house on a rainy monsoon day, the pomp and fanfare of Pujo in October, the brightly lit streets of Park Street, the bussle of New Market, the delicious Chinese at Jimmy's Kitchen, the warmth of friendship in Coffee House, the crowded metros at 5pm, the chaat outside Lake Kalibaari, the tranquility of Mosque Island, the memories at the Hanging Bridge, the late night chats on Madhu's chhaat, the delicious aroma of Ma's chilli chicken, those wonderful evenings of Pol Science tuition, cold coffee and gossip, the broken hearts and the mended ones, the budding affairs and the dying ones, those friends that once were just a phone call away, the loud and wonderful rumble of baba's voice, the sizzling of ma cooking in the kitchen, the sound of the TV over Sumit's laughter, the houses of friends and family, the old world feel of North Calcutta, the life and energy of South Calcutta, the soulful music at Someplace Else, the calming effect of Daab Sarbat at Paramount, the institution that made me who I am today, La Martiniere, the adventures Mad, Shreya, PD and I shared, the shops on Bye-Pass we stopped at, Ma's voice floating over my stereo, Dugs' frantic typing on the PC, Kalpi and Minu Mashi hovering around to help, Mohan da's broken tooth, the regattas and regatta nights, rowing on the lakes, finding a best friend, winning BRC 4years straight, finding love and letting go, bonfires and New Year's Eves, Christmas Parties at Raji and Jayatri's, Magic Moments at Debu Motel, slumber parties and family.....
The list goes on of what I think of when someone merely utters 'Kolkata'. It's a feeling unlike any other and it's hard to understand unless you've been away. I go back to that city of my dreams in 2 weeks and I know my romance will be shattered but for now I'd like to think of Kolkata as my Utopia and home as Paradise....
Born and bred a true Bangali, it is hard to quench my thirst for all that is identified with my culture. The maach-bhaat, Pujo, pollution, clash of old and new, rosogollas and ultimately PUCHKA! All of these eventually get rolled into one big ball of Bengali-ness and thrown into the corner of my memory while I live in a foreign land and try to enjoy the foreign-ness.
When I say the city changes, I obviously refer to Kolkata, my hometown. When I say it changes, I don't mean it physically changes even though I'm sure in the year I've been away, it has physically evolved and grown. What I mean is, it's place and stature in my mind changes everyday until the point where it is just a romanticized figment of my imagination. I am sure this holds true for every individual that leaves their country in pursuit of better things in another.
At this point, even though it has only been 10 months, I have forgotten the heat, the pollution, the traffic, the population, the poverty and all those seemingly unpopular aspects of my city. What I remember and hold close to my heart is the the pulsating energy of the city, the taste of cool lebu'r jol on a hot summer's day, the smell of khichuri wafting through my house on a rainy monsoon day, the pomp and fanfare of Pujo in October, the brightly lit streets of Park Street, the bussle of New Market, the delicious Chinese at Jimmy's Kitchen, the warmth of friendship in Coffee House, the crowded metros at 5pm, the chaat outside Lake Kalibaari, the tranquility of Mosque Island, the memories at the Hanging Bridge, the late night chats on Madhu's chhaat, the delicious aroma of Ma's chilli chicken, those wonderful evenings of Pol Science tuition, cold coffee and gossip, the broken hearts and the mended ones, the budding affairs and the dying ones, those friends that once were just a phone call away, the loud and wonderful rumble of baba's voice, the sizzling of ma cooking in the kitchen, the sound of the TV over Sumit's laughter, the houses of friends and family, the old world feel of North Calcutta, the life and energy of South Calcutta, the soulful music at Someplace Else, the calming effect of Daab Sarbat at Paramount, the institution that made me who I am today, La Martiniere, the adventures Mad, Shreya, PD and I shared, the shops on Bye-Pass we stopped at, Ma's voice floating over my stereo, Dugs' frantic typing on the PC, Kalpi and Minu Mashi hovering around to help, Mohan da's broken tooth, the regattas and regatta nights, rowing on the lakes, finding a best friend, winning BRC 4years straight, finding love and letting go, bonfires and New Year's Eves, Christmas Parties at Raji and Jayatri's, Magic Moments at Debu Motel, slumber parties and family.....
The list goes on of what I think of when someone merely utters 'Kolkata'. It's a feeling unlike any other and it's hard to understand unless you've been away. I go back to that city of my dreams in 2 weeks and I know my romance will be shattered but for now I'd like to think of Kolkata as my Utopia and home as Paradise....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)