Oyster

There was a cubicle, white as snow and pale as the bloodless corpse. She was asked to come in everyday, her freedom was bought in exchange of perks to facilitate her freedom, make it more colourful.
Irony sits on her giant throne and smiles her sly smile. Its important, you see that she lets the world understand what she truely is and how much joy she can bring into the world.

Someone had once told her that 'we are supposed to be here for atleast 9 hours a day. The employees at least, but you trainees can leave early. No issues.'the mouth spoke those words but the eyes said, 'i won't let you leave. Oh no!'

So she sat at a corner of the office, an alley turned cubicles, slowingly freezing to death as the world unfolded its new colors, every second.

Someone came intervened with the query, 'What would you rather be doing?'
She replied in a jiffy, ' The world is my oyster!?' 'Is it?' 'Isn't it?'

Someone smiled, sameone smirked on her face, someone patted her head and stiffled a laugh.

Yes, oyster. Sure! And the Television is the pearl, yes?
All she heard now was laughter, loud booming laughter.

And then it dawned on her. Painting the world red was just and advertisement on the idiot box. And it was all in her head, the oyster ultimately was just a blue padded cell. And she was on the corner, with a tatasky remote.

She wanted to go to a different cubicle now.

Fess up, Bitch.

Okay, so it has been a while since i have written anything and honestly there cannot be a worse timing. I have my exam tomorrow and it would be better if i studied, but then again mind is a fickle thing which does not understand the constrains of exams or irony!

Demons. An incredible song by Imagine Dragons. In fact I am listening to it right now. We all have our demons, I know I do. In fact my number is more than the amount I would like to have. And for some reason, these seem to reproduce more demons, and they are eating me up. As cliched as it is, I do feel like a hollow shell. But then again, who doesn't?

College has to be an interesting stop in the journey called Life. And I will be honest it has been very interesting, in its own fucked up way. It has been quite interesting. But in the past 3 years, things have changed. drastic changes. I have changed. My mom slapped this fact across my face that I have in fact become a shallow little biyatch. (Those may not have been her exact words, but the thought was the same!) I have changed. And i am not proud of that person. I want to go back to being that one little girl who kept a book in her bag at all points, had things to talk about, knew things about things and was everything there was to be. But I have changed, and I am hating every moment of it, and now that it has been pushed in front of my face, I can't ignore it.

This is not what is bothering me, what really is the problem is that I can't seem to care about anything. Anything at all. I can't really pin point when it really started, but its been a while that nothing interests me, or irks me. Nothing. The other day, I had this scare that I had lost my phone but you know I didn't care.. I mean it didn't bother me. And this is a very small example. If I do try to care or think deep I have this extreme lethargy which makes me want to go to sleep. Even though it sounds ridiculous but its true.

I don't know how to make it go away! I am not able to read books, I am not able to write, I am not able to understand anything or relate to things. I don't know what is wrong and how do I fix this! Some might say that its mental or I am not feeling this way only imagining or something, but I don't think its like that.

I think I really need help but I don't where to go. What to do, where to seek help from? In fact I am not sure whether I really need help or its just my mind fucking with me.


-Ex.

Dadubhai, I love you.

I hate it all. the whole situation that is around me.
I lost my grand dad. I always knew that this day would come and that thought always brought tears to my eyes, but then I never really thought that it would happen. But Nov 2, it did. He was gone. Everything was just stopped. I could hear him say, "Study from you notes, teachers jeta notes daye ota theke podo !" (read whatever the teacher gives) And now that it has actually happened, i don't know how to cope with it. Being in hostel helps. It makes me forget about things which I can't help. Yes, it definitely does.

Today was his last rites.And then a memorial, my mother has asked me to write something for him. That I have trying to do for the past 3 years. Yes! That's how prepared I was. But I could never come up with something to write about, I mean I had things to write about but then they never took form of a complete piece. And when, mother asked me to do it, I freaked out and simply refused. That was the day when I achieved a new low in my own eyes, a low which i can't go back from.

So, today, my mom called from the memorial and I heard some people say certain things, and I just could not hear it, so after 5 mins I disconnected. I could not do it. The guilt, the remorse, it all created this ugly blob in my head which only sucked on my ability to do anything.

I loved my Dadubhai very much, and the day I heard about this tragic news, I could not even believe it was true. I is hard to, impossible to imagine that the next time I am in Kolkata, he won't be there. I won't anyone say "Kinkini ke dao aaro! Oor jonne'e toh anlam mach!" (Give Kinkini more, I got the fish exclusively for her). I won't hear him say, "Chamotkar!" I won't talk to him, every time I call.

My family is not that emotional, o maybe they are, I don't know. But I have been told again And again, "Don't be a sentimental fool.." "There is no need to be emotional." So, its a good thing that I am alone in this room with no one to judge me, and tell me how i should mourn for my Dadu.

He is gone and there is nothing I can do, even though people pretend that they were prepared for this to happen, they were not! How can you be? I don't understand.

But My grandfather was also not the emotional type, and he would have probably not to see me act like this. But since I have had quite a record disappointing everyone, I will go ahead and cry and be depressed because that's how I react.

I pray to the God above, that Dadubhai is at peace and his soul is rested.
I will always love and respect him and remember him for the great, strong which he was. The reverence I hold for him will only grow as the years will pass.

My Blue Slippers Slip

There was once a lad in the far far land, he was a curious one. He wanted to taste all the nectar in the world and take a bite at all the apples that were there. He was born in the house of Lard, a humble merchant of textile, who did not have the eye are desire to experience of the most exquisite honey swirling in his mouth. That kind of ecstasy was something Lard was unaware of. Therefore it was natural to be shocked out of the boots when he heard his son say that you wanted to go to large, large land to have it all.

 

'But son, you WANT to look after my textiles, your innocent brain is tricking you into believing otherwise.'

'No Father, I am the one who wants to sell the silk in your precious drawer, no. I am the son who wants to bring his mother the taste of heaven and preciousness of silver to her feet, the sluriness of the fermented liquid which brews in the barrels in the basements of the large houses.'

Lard did not understand his son's need to explore. It was not a safe option. The feeling of not a familiar raod under yor feet frightened him.

'Son? What will you do when you realize that the wine you were fantasizing about was in fact sour and not what you wanted? What you do then in the large land where no one you know will be able to help you out?'

'Yes son, please pay heed to your father! The silver will shine only to remind us that there are shinier things out there to be achieved. You don't want greed to break us apart? Do you now, son?' His mother, Tallow, asked wiping her eyes. 

'It will be difficult when there are boulders in my path, yes. There is not a single word which can be uttered to console the nagging sensation of failure but dear Mother, will the world be changed if I were to go back to my rock and lie beneath it and not breath a word but that pine tree which have the most soulful aroma? Will I be happy with everything I see with my frail eyes? No. But will I try anyway? Yes, because my molds have set the notions too strong AND the land of the unknown is calling me. Let me know that I have what blessing you may want to bestow upon me, and let this be the last time you think of me as your little boy. Today I, Epoxy, stand to be strong and bind together the knows and unknowns. To make everyone believe that what is undiscovered is not malignant. Not always!'

With that Epoxy, the son of the Lard and Tallow, cemented the belief that you can only look at the world with you tint. He was the silver and today he lives happy in a land not so large and not so far. He lives in a land with a mighty fair lady who called herself Putty. 

It was not hard to say that they lived happily ever after, with a curious relationship at hand.

All night.

If the clouds were not there, would one look up the sky and think about longing one might have felt once?
Might have felt the tiny trembling in your stomach, listened close to the faint growling of sky-keepers. There can't be anything which can be remembered or loved unless it flies past you everyday.

Maybe your life is just as frail. Just as fragile. Just as irrevocably breakable.

As you walk past the one person, you look into the eyes and you see this glass. Glass for the emotion you long to see. Then with time you learn that look too well, so much so that you develop your own kind of glass.

One day the beauty of the trees will fade. Then slowly and surely, the time will come for other things to fade as well. The sweet memories of the kind holdings will all blur away into a light touch of colour in the vast sky.

It will all end leaving a soft trail.behind and one day that trail.will die as well leaving no evidence of your existence, and no one to for that loss as well. All in its own fair time.

Awkward marathon

I have been watching this show called "Awkward" for like three seasons in one night! My god that is some speed.

Time to switch this woman offf. Oh, wait! The last episode is here! Well, after that I will.

OVER! Its overrrrr!!
Alright. Now simply switch it off and turn away!

Away.. Sllowly. Great!

PMSing my way to hell

When god made women, I am sure that he thought that lets make them real special. Earth needs the flourish only a woman can bring to a room. Yes, then he gave too much thought into us. Lets make them really reAlly special he said. Ah, the irony.

So, the world is filled with hatred, then again I think that maybe its inherit into us. By god. Maybe I am wrong but how else you connect the monthly pain!? Causing pain and trauma is what is instilled in us.