Saturday, April 11, 2009


The idiocy of installing a massive chunk of iron in the womb of the earth finally makes sense- Irony, thou art the all-encompassing life force of the very life on earth!

We take a kind of unexplained pleasure at perverting all Wordsworthian Pantheistic philosophies, and every form of Hermeutic doctrines by needlessly kicking stones out of our way, or tearing off a rose-bud for the sake of a sharp sadistic snap! For ofcourse! Inanimate objects are supposed to be just that- inanimate to all pain and shame! (look how didactic i sound..and im loving it!)

but tell you what, the story goes another way...the sharp jab of the iron dagger again!

I went to Mani Square a few days back (obviously lolling my tongue after the sudden anachronistic windfall- all food at 21 bucks! Utopia is here!)

anyway, having managed to bag a seat, (which, mind you, required more than simply staring hard and salivating equally hard at the table of some poor munching souls) i had more than a hefty 35 minutes to spend by myself, (on myself, if i may lavish such luxuries on so spoiled a being) coz my table-partner had gone in quest of the Holy Wittles.

so, there i am, studying my nails, palms, the hair follicles erupting on the back of my hand, when, there is a sudden "ouch!" right beside me, and there is a poor lady, all tripped and messy on the floor, her hair all matted with sweat and grime, her two-and-twenty teeth rolling out like gleeful marbles all over the place, her towering pink nails following suit, her nose a blasted bridge...(and since i couldn't have exaggerated more, let us proceed with the main story.)

the object instrumental for her fall, was a wooden (or was it brick? can't really tell with these modern architectural devices) tile that had come loose on the slightly elevated floor of the place, and this, dear friends, was what kept me engaged fro the rest of my time- thanks to Thee again!

what followed then, was quite a psychological study, being compounded no doubt, with doses of sociology...and trust me, it was a study conducted in 100%% consciousness (coz, hungry mice had not yet begun their march.)


so this what i recorded-

there were in all, roughly, three categories of human behaviour with respect to the abominable tile-

1> thoses who could be called the Humanitarians- these folks made it a point to fix the tile back in its place everytime the human being preceeding them upset the order. the cause- obviously, avoidance of accidents. however, deep within these souls, might be a repressed Freudian desire for fame and accolades, the moment of glory when people would rise on their feet and award these bravehearts for thier commendeble duty towards all mankind. Pats of "Bravo!" is what they live for, day in and day out. and, to stretch this psychological study further and enmesh it with with the tenets of social behaviour, one might point out, that the nature of the desired reward for this category of people might be largely, capitalistic- a free hotdog or a hamburger is my bet.

2> the second category would be the Passive Conscience-striken- these are the ones, who would trip, upset the order of the tile, do nothing about it, and yet keep looking back at their sin with abhorence and guilt of such hilarious magnitude, that not a single morsel of food would go down their food-pipe. in fact, this single act would be the death for them. their dreams would be riddled with cannine-barring tiles, and they would not bathe or flush out their bowels for fear of treading on further tiles- having injured one of their breathen, and left it to fend for itself, these guilty pricks won't venture even an inch nearer to thier toilets. Amen be to them. and their bowels.

3> the third and last category would be that of the Defiant Assassin- they are those who would watch the palpable tile from a distance, stealthily. They would watch it getting in the way of pencil-heels and polished boots. and then, the pervert in them would strike- with the subtle deftness of a professional football player, they would kick the poor tile out of its appointed place, and standing back, watch the sheer fun. Anarchy of the basest kind id what they crave for. yet, from a deeper psychological perspective, it might seem that these acts of force are nothing but the venting of bottled-up personal frustrations. poor souls, all!

Thus it had been, till my food arrived.

quite a study it was. it taught me a hell lot.

and the greatest irony of all- i owe it to a single wooden tile. (or was it brick?)

Friday, April 10, 2009

Whoever said tragedies were nothing but an exaggeration of subtly ridiculous woes in the really-real world, need to break out of their glass-bottomed boats and take a nose-dive in the really-real slime-pool!
Tragedy is in the REAL.
I mean, what could be more tragic than the fact that i wear an XL and my boyfriend wears a L...???
(That's the size of our JU t-shirts. What were you thinking, you bunch of smelly socks????)

Thursday, April 9, 2009


Dreams can be real shockers. (pleasant or pungent, is highly speculative.)

back from the Mumbai trip, i was rejoicing at the sudden magnanimity of my Fate which seemed to have (finally) shaken all blankets of cynicism and sadism off its shoulders and dived into my pitiable cause. so, i did rejoice- this had got to be the mother of all joys, travelling to another land with a single backpack on me, and freedom blasting through my ears! and of course, with the perfect bunch of fellow-travellers!

i swore to myself that given a chance, i wouldn't\couldn't have been any happier...100% unadulterated bliss!

but, whoa! the DREAM!

and there i was, preparing for another trip, stuffing my bag vigourously...yes, vigourously, almost with animal-fervour! the strange thing about dreams is that, (and i forbid Mr.Freud or Mr.Lacan from ruining my wonderstruck musings) you can almost feel the texture and depth of know what is happening in your heart, to your heart. there are times when you feel pangs of fear, stabs of pain, jolts of excitement...and wonder of all wonders, it happens right there and then- in your dreams!

but i deviate...(stab me with a thermometre the next time i do so.) i was this particular dream, i was preparing for a journey which seemed to be a cause for great, boundless excitement. i was almost talking to myself, (in the dream, duh!) telling myself how fulfilling this journey would be. and finally, it lay revealed before my inward eye (that's what you call the dreaming eye, right?) that i was to embark upon a journey with my school friends! those long-lost folks who had once been my world.

wow! i said to myself when i woke up. life does have an assertive way of reminding you what had once been good, and also, indispensible.

i mean, through no fault of their own, not a single college-mate of mine knows the real 'Me'. i have sheilded myself off, i know that within my heart..and why not? i just don't feel that alive anymore...(and that's a cause for worry, right?!)

aah! those were the days! (now i know why this statement has become a cliche!)

what NOT had we done?

and at the end of it all, we remained a bunch that was still alien language to many....and didn't that please us so?!!!

u do not have time-turners in the real world. the real world is just that- shamelessly on-your-face REAL. you got to go on with the wheels, chugging along, speeding up, halting...all in perfect unision with the damned rusty spheres.

but dreams...well, they are of some other making. so we have an equally surrealistic name for them, see!

and thank you whoever for making dreams a reality in this tiringly real world.

it would do for this life.


A bug akin to Madame Conscience has been tormenting me since the day i coronated this blog with the title- besh korechi!

so, this very post should be my confession-box (of sorts)-

the title 'besh korechi!' sounds too strong for my appetite. look, let's be frank (to the self, it should not be that tedious a task) - for someone who intends to spend the better half of her (scatological) life (through, of course, no desirious desire of her own) with a 'De-Pend-All M' by the bedside, it would not be wise to undertake such a momentous task . such is the tragic Fate as i see it unfold before me with amazing grace....One can not complain, a flush is all it takes to conceal the 'secret' forever...from bowel to bowl. Amen.

so, coming back to the point- i might have issued a few mis-directed arrows with my rebellious title. Besh korechi??? "But what have i done??", asks my innocent little gut. i can not betray its faith. i am more or less, a chicken- the kind that are so born with nothing much to alter. yes, i do speak up when wrong things happen, (and again, 'wrong' is a dangerously subjective word) but alas! not much happens (has happened in the recent geological past or would happen in the far future) that has given the chicken an occasion to shout out to the world, walls..whatever- "besh korechi!!!"

so, why raise the bars??

dramatic yawns and intentional rolling of eyes would break my fragile cut-glass little heart....

and my blog has suffered enough to last it a lifetime...(see what an insatiable greed for immortality does to you!)

thus, let the title be.

let it file its nails, take a hot bath, walk the ramp...whatever.

we would proceed with our matters of mock-immediacy...right???



so, i begin with an official apology- this blog started off into the world with determination raging in its loins, but as it happens with all, er, well...over-enthusiastic hitch-hikers, it got into the wrong car, got mauled, kicked in the brain with the heel of a fake 'Adi Das', lost a couple of teeth, nails, et all....

Now,though it calls them 'Magnificient Misadventures', i cough it into silence....

so, umm...sorry to all.

so.....deliver me from this hilariously formal address....

Thanking You.