Its raining, she's crying

Last few months were hot and humid outside and inside it was increasing state of restlessness and fear for unknown. A master in Chemistry, an avid reader and a classical singer she was her in law's personal favourite. And that is how her fate got attached to that of Subhro's - the highly educated least affected professor of Physics. His universe was surely that of atoms and neutrons and his passion - coin collection. Her fate was supposed to be sealed on 9 th day of July when she would be called married with the sign of red vermilion on her hair parting and the white red bangles on her wrist. She sometimes thought that may be she would be less Snehalata Sen and more of Snehalata Dutta -the charming youngest bride of Tollygunge er Dutta Bari. Currently it was late afternoon and she was busy finishing "Dahan" by Suchitra Bhattacharya -her favourite.She had this premonition that this would remain unfinished if not done before the D Day. Preparation was in full swing, her red benarasi saree resting on the decorated plate called the tatta.Her youngest paternal aunt was due to arrive first from the relative circle. From the time her fate was sealed, she was all exited to be the bride.Her elder cousins who were already married had shared their views and experiences,some even from overseas.But as time was nearing,she could feel a void , a sudden emptiness -a better phrase to make people understand. She will go to an unknown home, start leaving with people whose names would take a few months time to remember,let alone the different faces and the face within. Her entire routine would change in sync with a yet to know stranger.She often wander would it be the same as it was now.Or would it be entirely different. She would better be left in here. Well she thought, that's very childish isn't it. Her mother had taught her that every girl meets her final destinity in her husband's home.As she came to the balcony,the breeze fell over her face, the untamed strands of hair falling on her temple. In a few minutes, the much awaited rain came pouring on the earth.Outside it was raining, her eyes were too - with tears of unknown and unseen. She thought to herself with a smile - lets call Prof Subhro - the complete geek would know the other universe - the universe of sorrow and love.

The Chaitra Sale

Summer is at its best. Sun is suddenly all this interested to perform its role.Seems like appraisal on its way. This time of the year, apart from being the hatred part by public poll, brings a big smile in the face of Bengalis. Well its chaitra sale guys. For those who do not have the faintest idea what it is about ,well do not panic. Its that part of the year, when shopkeepers clear their stocks and customers add to their stock.Be it the red saree or the green T-shirt you are bang on for it. You could sense the euphoria and the enthusiasm in the air. You could see Mita aunty coming out from the crowd with a transparent packet containing her long desired jaipuri printed bedcover. You could see the same sign of pride and win when our beloved Dhoni make a winning strike for India. Soma has different desire.Bagging trendy shoes to match her everyday college attire. She having found one red sandal for 150 bucks is none less than the head scientist of a successful rocket mission. Avik is not behind as well. The sling bag for Piyu , he gets at 100. This means her fresh smile in this humid summer. As the last day of sale approaches, footpaths are flooded with black heads, all of them with energy matching the glowing sun. One the very last day, shopkeeper cheers for the stock clearance and customer like Soma,Avik and Mita waits for another year to fulfil their yet another desire of acquiring a treasure.
 

Chatterbox To Meterbox

Recently I have joined a MNC in Kolkata. I happen to travel in bus for almost two hours to reach there. Chatterbox that I am, has suddenly become a meterbox. I donot have any friends travelling along the same route and so I have to keep mum for those long two hours. I feel disgusted, irritated and I feel all those emotions related to keeping mum. A talkative person I am, had to sit and look outside or read books(my favourite pastime).But reading books is allowed if and only if I get a seat.
I seriously pray I get one person to talk with.Otherwise I am like that meterbox which only gives reading and keeps mum even when it catches fire. One word of caution to who so ever you are wasting two hours of a highly talkative person .:P

The Pain Of Taking DECISION

God, decision is one word that makes me tremble. Yes taking decision for me is like climbing Mount Everest. It is full of weird thoughts as in what will happen if my decision goes wrong. What will be its impact on the people related to me? In these few years (though I am quite big enough) whenever it was time for taking a decision it made me freak out. I still remember my decision of taking Computer Science in a bad college or any stream in good college was once such occasion of taking an immense important decision. And yes the decision was wrong. No job which led to a year of frustration and last of all an admission to post graduate which meant confinement with study for another two years. Its not that I only take wrong decision. Yes few of them taken by me are superb and will never ever regret them. Just want to tell God , please do not make our already damaged life hell by giving us ample opportunities of taking ample decisions. We are already messed up with career, future, health and family. So spare us from that. But yes off course we have to take decisions like which path to choose to reach college if we are late or more complicated ones.

The city of gardens

I happen to visit The City of Gardens a week ago. True to tell this city has something in it. The pace of working ,the serenity and the living like a king that's what describe Bengaluru. In the morning you see loads of people from different fields moving towards their destination in colorful scooties. You can find Oracle, Microsoft , Axis bank people all waiting for the traffic to get cleared. This time I did not go for any sightseeing so I happened to observe the people and the culture of this city closely. Within a span of just few hours you can see a mini India in front of your eyes. Be it the Bengali home delivery guy or the North Indian guy or the local waiter. Some have been living there for more than a decade but seemed that they had got with the city quite well. But it is the weather which make you believe its really an air-conditioned city. Cool breeze blow frequently making you forget the warmth of hot summer. Branded shops are there in every corner of the road as if the city allows them to be there like a milk shop. In short Bengaluru is welcoming telling you that it has opportunities and new hopes for everyone who comes here. Love you Bengaluru.

Journey By Train

People who love travelling often choose train as one of their favorites. Being a regular traveller  I often notice if our life is a book , a single train journey can provide loads of small characters who make more or less  some impression. Be it the family who gave me immense knowledge about East Bengal food, the little guy whose chuckling still make me smile or that brother who made friends in a second. May be it is the long timespan that we get and the boredom that make us start interacting. Being a chatterbox I usually find it difficult to sit quite. Interacting with different people makes your life enriched with experiences. I still remember that North Indian family at the special train during cyclone who had become a family during those endless hours of train journey. The guy from Durganagar whom I met just only two days ago while coming back from Bengaluru found out that his elder sis and I share the same nickname. Amazing isn't it? These are people you will not probably meet ever but still while sitting idly they will come to your mind just like that. Its like the small girl whom Apu from "Pother Panchali" met during a visit to a temple. He never met her again but the warmth the character produced had left a good feeling in the readers' mind. If you ever note down the person you met till now , I am quite sure the number is more from the accounts of train journeys. Life is short people whoever you meet just keep a mental note of them in your mind space. When I will have nothing to do in my life i.e.  no mugging up notes or going for interviews and I will be like really an unwanted person these characters will surely make me smile. :)

There lived a girl called Neha.She had just graduated and wanted to become a journalist.But her father wanted her to do masters then phd and so on. Her mom wanted to get her married to the rich NRI guy and last of all her relatives thought she was all spoiled and needed disciplines.No body wanted to know what she actually wanted.
Girls do this sound familiar.well this is those typical stories of 21 taak parai, 22 mehe shaadi or 25 mehe banche. may be the picture is a little different but yes quite similar though.
Have you ever thought what you actually wanted to become?
23 is such an age where these things start coming to the scene.people who loved you in your childhood ,who provided you chocolates had now become all irritated with whatever you said or whatever u wore.strange isn't it?
23 is an age to live love and be responsible.but its not doing wrong but right.the right things which can convince our elders?isn't it?