Welcome 2013!!

In the blink of an eye we all shall be in 2013! A year that sped so fast, leaving trails of memories behind. Some will fade away with time, some will moving along with us as we move on. 

As I look back and start counting the personal losses and gains, I realize that 2012 had been the most unexpected and memorable year for me. It has managed to transform me into a completely different and new wiser me. A year full of self realizations, misunderstandings, highs and lows, growing expectations and broken hearts, meeting new people and people fading away from the list of social networking sites.  

In spite of all the uncertainties and loosing hopes 2012 has managed to surprise me towards the end and making me hope full and eager as before for 2013. 

So as I look forward to 2013 and un-wrap all the surprises that it has in its fold, I take this chance to wish all of you a very very happy new year 2013. Wish you all good health and luck in the coming year!

 

Cheers!!!

Trijeeta.

Confessions of a Facebookaholic

Facebook is the last thing I check before closing my eyes for a sound sleep... (the second last being Gmail ) and the first thing after I open my eyes. Sometimes I even find the Facebook app in my mobile open when I get up. I know you are not very surprised. I am very confident 90% of people reading this will have the same story to tell.

This e-existence of mine was simply unthinkable 7years before but for now it is most of me. Where on earth do you think you can get updated with the places your people around you have gone to honeymoon..or what jewelery people have worn in their weddings or where did the person you last met in school is going for a holiday…right from a boring meeting in office??..Or the inside scoop of a controversial engagement…the first look of your best friend’s car…or the dinner your neighbor prepared.. while travelling in a bus! Stalk the person you secretly have a crush upon…like every silly update posted by him/her.. I do it all. Right from the current affairs to Indian politics..to the presidential elections in US..to jokes…to quotes.. to whether Shiela is hotter than Munni… to the random shares of divine deities you get it all in the single tap of your smartphone. Isn’t it awesome?

Managing the Facebook profile updates can also be nerve cracking at times. As you all have realized by now likes and comments are your only popularity meter… :P  I sometimes even like my own random posts.. its nothing but an utter display of self confidence (few are smart enough to understand the underlying sarcasm). Once I even went to the extent of calling one friend of mine asking him to like a silly post of mine to save my post from just 1 like which was mine. Now you guess how nerve cracking it can be… phew!! Oh yes…profile pictures.. I change them occasionally just when I think I have stopped getting the required likes and comments.. :P Its like my monthly visit to the hair dresser. Its always smart to be prepared for people stalking my profile. And if you think any of your favorite picture has not got the enough popularity as it deserved…fear not! You can always recycle your old profile pics to the current one to alert people to like them in case they haven’t. :D :D

Whenever I visit to party/wedding/picnics, I often hear people around me saying things like: “wow this picture is so nice…it would put it up as my profile picture”…

I also have helped innumerable charitable causes by sharing random posts of sick babies (never ever bothered to find out if the share was genuine)…have slammed rapists…raised my voice for a cause…liked a photo-shopped picture of a God and get disappointed as nothing happened in the next ten minutes as was promised. Yes you get it right, all on Facebook!

The instant sight of the red notifications on the top right corner instantly uplifts my mood for a second and sometimes continues just like talking a guilt-free bite into dark chocolate. Hence my love for Facebook continues and if you ever hear people talking about calling me Facebook-addict or about me paying too much attention to the online page and drifting away from the grounded reality…just remember…being popular is not that easy…..hufff!!!

PS: I even had to add the word “Facebook” to the disctionary of MS-WORD to ease myself writing this blog post.

When Time Stops

I found my old diary while shifting my house. I had nearly forgotten about it until the time I found it again while packing. In the hurriedness of shifting I forgot it once again and re-discovered it while unpacking. Out of guilt I decided to give it a permanent place among my story books so that it is always there in the vicinity of my eyes. And one a leisurely afternoon I decided to give it a much awaited read. The cover had the year embossed on it … “1999”…

It was my first attempt to pen down my thoughts when I was in class ten, being inspired by the Autobiography of Pricess Jahanara, the book which I borrowed from School Library. The first diary note describes my inspiration and how awestruck I was reading the life of a princess which was not as glamorous as I had expected it to be. Sad that I hadn’t mentioned the date of the note. So, thats how it started...

The diary covers my life from class X to the first year of college. When my only Ambition in life was to score good marks….Tension meant the Chemistry exams….Only treasures being the friendship bands .... Love meant glue-ing pictures of Aamir khan in between the pages of the diary…..the greatest fear being performing on stage…..taking a break meant quarreling with my sister over a trifle pencil box or reading a comic hidden in the course book……Rebel meant slapping boys on their slapstick remarks…

I had even kept the snippets of songs written on the paper that helped me during the numerous Independence Days, Gandhi Jayantis and Republic days on stage. O’ how each paper wrinkled and yellowed with time took me back to the time when I had actually written them.  I also remembered reciting poems or prose in class, and how my then best friend Debashree took the responsibility of prompting me in between the lines when I forgot. Though I never ever looked at her during my recitation, to avoid the series of non-stop laughing without a reason publicly. The class teacher had even changed our seats to the opposite corners of the class, but with least success.

I found a lot of sketches of mine too dated back to 2000 when did  small quick sketches when I had to pretend that I was studying hard at home or school.  A sketch of “Prospero and Ariel”, from the cover of my course book  The Tempest, by Shapespeare , Or the “Backyard” where I often sat during sunny winter mornings.

Class XI and XII, new school and new friends…my first ever bench partner, So-mad-rita Das( in DNS we sat in single chairs)… being the permanent last bencher for the first time and loving it….sleeping in Chemistry and English classes….understating nothing of physics being taught… the pranks we played in class…. I had penned down all.....

Then my first step into the college, away from my parents..a whole new world with so many different people from different parts of the country.

Please take me back in time. The golden years of my life… I want to re-live the innocence and simplicity again.

Trijeeta.

11/11/2012.

I just realized that….

·         Falling in love is as similar to falling out of love…you can feel every bit of it.

·         The people who have not met me and are receiving my work emails often perceive of me as a 40+ arrogant woman. :P

·         The charm and the charisma lasts only for about 15 minutes of the first meeting…

·         You cannot make someone fall in love for you. Just be the person who can be loved….

·         I still blush seeing Aamir khan on screen..

·         It was my newly bought Tee from Shopper’s stop when the splash of paint fell on it.. L while painting a piece of old furniture..

·         Mother’s love is equal for all her children…just like I love all my paintings in spite of all the visible imperfections.

·         Just because two people don’t argue…doesn’t mean they love/like each other and the vice-versa..

·         No matter how painful the goodbye is ….change is always welcome…

·         When I am expected to do the most boring things in the world…i end up writing blogs like this…

What's In a Name (Bloopers- Part II)

Note: I had no choice but quoting the actual names of the characters in this post.

Sh*t happens when you are chatting in multiple windows at the same time :P :P

Though I always disagree, many people designate me as a chat-buff, chat-addict and what not..

What?? Is it not obvious in this age of social networking?

Well, let me introduce two friends of mine - Sudipta das(Male) and Sudipta Chakraborty (Female). Its Funny, how the naming conventions goes for the people of Bengal, where the same spelling of the name can have different pronunciation and can be applicable for both the genders. I call them unisex names.  :P :P

In this case here the Sudipta(M) is pronounced as Sudipto and not Sudipta..

If its hell confusing for the non-bongs, sorry guys….its equally confusing for bongs as well.

The marriage season being in its full swing, I am receiving the engagement news of every other friend of mine. On  one “busy” afternoon I received a ping in my Gmail account from Sudipta. As I was “busy”, I skipped noticing the surname of the person and I automatically assumed it to be Sudipta Das(M).

Sudipta:  hi

Me:  Hey!! Long time..

Sudipta:  yeah..hw r u??

Me: fine..hw r u?

Sudipta: good…gotta news to share

Me: yes yes!!

Sudipta: m getting married..

Me: wow!! Congrats!!

Sudipta: Thanks. The wedding is on Jan..

Me: with whom?? :P :P whats the name??

Sudipta: Sabyasachi

Me:  (confused) what!! Isn’t that a guy’s name?

Sudipta: yes…of course..

Me: what!!! U r marrying a man???

Sudipta: yeah….its a love marriage and my parents have finally agreed!!

Me: what!!(almost fainting)

Sudipta: why do you seem to surprised..these things are so common nowadays..

Me: yes I know…its legal now…but I can’t believe its you!!
Sudipta: (confused and irritated now) what are you talking about?? :-/ X-(

Me: You found no suitable girl to fall in love?? x-(

Sudipta: what bullsh*t!! !!@#$$%%%  !@@##^^&&** !@@!@@## !@# (Censored )

Sudipta Chakraborty is Offline.

What!!! Chakraborty!!! That’s when I sensed there is some mistake and re-read the chat twice… and then noticed the blunder that I made. :D :D
(I had obviously called her up later and apologized.)

Note for Google employees:  It would be highly beneficial if you make the provision of mentioning the gender too in the chat windows.. :-/

Realization : “What’s in a Name??” whoever the hell has said that wasn’t introduced to the modern era of chatting..

Is This Love : Part 2

Continued from: Part1 .....

Naina had been quite restless recently. Tarun had not come online for weeks now.

She spends her days flipping through his pictures and posts a zillion times a day, admiring them.

She spends hours analyzing the reason for his absence. Reads his last messages over and over again to get some clue. Nah.. Surely he must have been busy with work or has gone for some unplanned vacation.. whatever.. she decides to wait..

It was a lazy weekday morning. Naina had decided to work from home. Reluctantly she boots her laptop while preparing her morning cup of coffee. Scans through her to-do-list and office emails for work and sighs in relief. Nothing that can’t be postponed till tomorrow or till she gets over her morning blues, smiles Naina.

About an hour later she is back to check her emails again. She opens up her Facebook account to check the updates while scanning through her emails again.

“Tarun is online” popped up from the gtalk notifications!

Her heart skipped a beat. She felt a strange mixture of happiness and anger rush through her head. She had so many questions to ask him that had been flooding her thoughts all these days. Where was he?

She waited for him to respond.

10 minutes pass… No response. Unable to resist, she pings him.

N: Hi

T: Hey Hi
N:wassup?
T:nothing..
Nothing?? She pauses.

T:how are you?
N:fine… n u?
T:very good..
N:hmmmm..

N:long time..huh?

T:Hmm..i have a news.. J guess what?
N:what??
T: I got engaged!! :P
What! She pauses and re-reads the whole conversation.
N: what? You mean Sagaai?
T: na re…not yet…but will be scheduled soon.. J
N: W…o…w J J J
She takes long to type just three letters.. Before pressing the Enter she deliberately adds some smileys.

N: Whos the lucky girl?

T: it’s a surprise yaar…you will have to wait till I officially announce it.
N: congrats yaar! She finds herself gasping for breath.
T: Thanks.

She stares blankly at the screen…

Writes..Erases…writes again…erase again

T: ok..gotta go..catch you later. Bye

N: bye.
T: take care
N: J
*end of chat*

A slow smile touches her lips.

She rolls over in her bed and stares at the ceiling. Tears flow freely from her eyes.

(Disclaimer : All characters in this post are completely fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons or incidents is purely coincidental.)

PAGLU-2

After a long tiring day at work I plunged into the cab with one of my colleagues who happen to share the same cab drop that day. Exhausted by the long Mid year goals discussion with my supervisor, I slammed the door of the ambassador and sighed. It was late and the weather looked promising enough to give us a tough time along the 1 hour journey especially the first 30minutes.

We started our usual frustrated conversation cursing the person whose idea was to build a office at this remote location, the government of neglecting the roads and accidents in Basanti Highway, the client for not enough onsite opportunities, even the cab driver  for being late and making us wait. Just then it started pouring and we cursed out luck too.

We saw the cab driver rush from one of the small “Jhoops”, a small hut type tea stall, stuffing a Bapuji Cake in his mouth. The mobile phone battery was running low and I thought it would not be a good idea to turn on the Radio.

 "Cholo , salt lake hoye laketown”, Lake town Via Salt lake, I purposely try to sound restless and irritated by his punctuality.

“Dada, garite gaan ache?”, can you play some songs, I Ask him. Just then I looked closely at him. A skinny boy,  appeared not more than 18. He wore a red Tee with black collars with – PAGLU written in neon at his back. I wondered if he had a valid driving license.

“Naa”, he replied back regretfully.

“Jai hok”, whatever, I sighed and start the conversation with my colleague about the poor lighting condition on the roads. It had started pouring heavily by then, making it very difficult to drive.

We were progressing at a mere speed of 20km/hour along a road lined by tall trees and dense bushes.

We were crossing the local village market when he suddenly stopped the car and got down hurriedly. Not a single human being was to be spotted around. Almost all the shops had their shutter down. The heavy rains had made the visibility very poor to spot the boy’s whereabouts. Both of us were equally tensed and I literally freaked out ten minutes after the boy vanished. I was just about to call the office transport desk for help when he appeared....Drenched…with a CD in his hand!

 “CD chilo na Sir”, he said while inserting the CD. Our jaws drop, but we were really touched by the gesture.

The first song starts. Some peppy romantic Bengali song which I have not heard before.

“Ki gaan eta?”, which song is this, I ask my colleague.

“AWARA, recent movie ta”, he answered confidently. “Never heard before?”
Suddenly the driver turned back and said, “Na na, eta PAGLUr gaan, Dev ache..”
“Ki??”
“Haa ami to onekbar dekhechi, hall  e…PAGLU-2 o berochhe.. ”
We are quite amused by the response and continue the conversation with the self proclaimed Dev-fan..

 He eagerly tells us that his favorite actor is Dev, but he likes watching Jeet’s films too. He doesn’t like Koyel being paired with Dev and that he has promised to take his wife to watch PAGLU-2!

What! Is he married!! Anyways…

 My colleague starts enquiring him about how long he has been in this profession etc etc.

What seemed to be a boring journey after the long boring day at work, turned out to be a small adda drive, in the backdrop of the heavy rains and Dev hits.

Both of us equally refreshed and re-charged as we reach our respective drop points.

“Good night Madam..”

"Good night…Pore dekha hole bolo PAGLU-2 kemon laglo..”

He blushed, as he sped by.

 

 

Weekends

 With still half open eyes I check my cell phone. Saturday, 8AM….Disappointedly I check my sms inbox and Facebook updates to recall any special engagements and shopping–appointments for the day. None…

I open my eyes harder and look around and see my sister hurrying and getting dressed for office.

“Toder bank e Saturday chhuti dey na kano bol to?”. Why doesn’t your bank have holidays in Saturday?

“Jatey toder moton IT r lokera aste pare”, So that people like you can visit it during their holidays.  She replied with a grin while searching her uniform tie from a pile of clothes.

Pffff…why did I get up so early….

I got up and went to the living room…my father is going through the headlines of the freshly arrived newspaper and my mother is busy arranging god-knows-what in the room. Both seemed equally surprised to see me. I ignored their looks and sat down looking at the empty tea cups.

 “Jol Kheyechis??”, had water?. Baba broke the silence.
Maa facing a serious competition too joined, “Sokale utechis to Yoga ta koris tahole?”, So that you have woken up early, you have time to do some Yoga.
 I felt it was safe then to escape from their vicinity.

About half an hour later I am back to the living room area with my freshly prepared tea and Marie biscuit. Maa is busy explaining the latest Suicide story from the newspaper to our help who is listening spell bounded sitting on the floor, floor mop in her hand. Baba must have gone to the nearby Bazaar.

“Ki khabi?”, what will you eat , Maa asked not even taking her eyes off the newspaper.

I pause a bit before replying wondering what are my options. “Ki ache?”
 “kalker rater torkari but ruti ta sokalei korechi”, the leftover curry and freshly prepared rotis, Maa replied making it sound like as if she has ordered something from Rahmania.
 She has emerged as a master in re-cycling all the leftover foods over 29 years of home-making.

I go back to my room and open my laptop. Hello Mr. Ratan Tata or whoever the responsible person may be, can you please change the start up page of tata-photon-plus of yahoo news. I am least interested in the wardrobe malfunctions of the celebrities and the food that would help me look younger.  Anyways, may be I should google myself to find it out.

My father has returned and peeps into my room.

“ki re jol kheyechis?”, Did you have water?
There must be some special relation between Baba and Water in his last birth, maybe he was Bisleri owner or something …but for now it gets on my nerves at times. I nod my head to respond without looking up.
“Kire serious kichu?”, anything serious, asks  Baba. The fact that he thinks I am always doing official work whenever I am with my laptop.
“Naa”.
“Naa???” , he asks again not convinced by my ans.
Arrghhh… :-/

Maa emerges out of nowhere, smelling some conspiracy between the father-daughter.

“Dekhna kichu elo kina”, check if something has come up. Obviously she is referring to the BM requests.
“Naa asheni”, Nothing yet.
“Areey dekh na ekbar”..
“Ufff, Maa!!”

My cell phone rings and I give them a can-I-get-some-Privacy look. Uknown number, must be bank or unicef….. :-/

“Hello, its me from the gym”

“Oh Hi!”
“The aerobics class which was cancelled has been re-scheduled at 1PM”
“Oh Great”
“Sorry for notifying in such a short notice.”
“Oh no problem at all…”

Wah!! Excited me get up and starting sorting my newly bought Tees that would hopefully give Miss Branded and Miss Wanna-be-model  some competition.

 My cell phone beeps just as I was about to step out of home. A Text message from a close friend.  

“Shopping and a long drive after that??”. My friend had bought a new car and has showed a middle finger to all those who thought girls can’t drive.

“Wow! Sounds like a plan.. at 4pm sharp”, I text back

 I luvvveeee my weekends!!

 

Random Scribbles

I am having restless sleep past couple of days. I end up waking in the night several times to check the updates on Facebook and my emails. I don’t know what am I looking for or to put it more correctly, whom.

But this feeling of uncertainty is surely taking a toll on my mind and inner peace.  Lately I have been trying to try a lot of new things which I had never ever dreamed of. I liked most of them and wondered why I didn’t try them before. Like , my hand at cooking…. or cross stitch…. Or reading Paulo Coelho which I dreaded ever since I read first few pages of the Alchemist.

Earlier my mind was always pre-occupied with some goals that I had set for my life and I was always busy planning how to achieve them. But now, it’s like a blank blackboard, dying to get scribbled.

On the outside I may portray a fake image of mine who is very independent, courageous, brave enough to fight back anything that comes up in life but I know from within I am as insecure as scared as any one of you. I seek happiness in company. And the more I try to run away from it the more it has begun to haunt me. I try to lead my life exactly as is expected out of me by my parents and the society but from within there is a nomad in me who wants to escape.

LOVE KE LIYE KUCH BHI KAREGA

Bhaag bhaag DK bose, DK bose, D K bose, bhaag bhaag DK "Bose DK" bhaag… was being played in full volume and I was slogging in the treadmill when the men visibly let out groans and grunts while weight training and the girls in the gym chorused aloud. “Hi Karan! After so long??” The girl in the adjacent cross trainer hushed to someone “Isn’t he cute??”.

I dared not to look around. Ughhh…why do they have mirrors all around this gym and not in front of these treadmills?

After around 5 minutes I got down and looked around, I saw no one new except a pot-bellied sad looking uncle. Karan? I thought panting. Nah. Can’t be.

I continued to exercise with the curiosity fading away from my mind by the shouts of Mr. Muscle, the trainer, “Faster….Faster….”

Grrrrr…..I will kill him the next time he says that!!

Suddenly out of nowhere a kid, smiled and jumped on the exer-cycle beside me. I smiled back. He was about my height, slim and looked a total misfit among the adults around.

“Hi, I am Karan…”

What!!

He nearly was about 11-12 years of age(though I am pretty bad at guessing people’s age), flawless wheatish complexion, a dimpled smile and naughty eyes like most of the kids of his age. The women were right. He was cute, but wasn’t it too early for him to join a gym?

“New ??”  He interrupted my thoughts. I nodded and answered running out of breath..

He seemed to be popular among the ladies, passing Hellos to most of the women passing by.

“Which class??12??”

What!! Is he talking to me?? I embarrassingly replied “No”. L

“11???”

My jaws dropped!! “No.. I have completed my studies”, I said finding hard to find a suitable reply.

“Ohh”, he empathically replied as if I was pulled out of school for failing three consecutive years..

“Which class??”, now I asked unable to hide my curiosity.

“7…”

“What??”

“Yeah”, he answered catching the hint. “I want to increase my height”.

 “Hey you two...stop talking and paddle faster”, shouted the M.

Just wait for me to get down and you are dead Mr Muscle…Grrrr…

“Haaan, my girlfriend dumped me.”

“Ainnn??”

“Yes, she is taller than me now”

What!!

 Before I could say something, Mr Muscle came over and herded me away to the yoga room and Karan to the hanging bars.

Love ke liye sala kuch bhi karega, I mused as the music played aloud.. :D :D

BLOOPERS – Part I

I felt my cheeks turning beet red with the feeling of pure idiocy.

Well, I don’t know how often it happens with you guys, but it happens with me most of the times and the instant reaction that comes to my mind is, “Please Lord…make me invisible or Let the earth open up and swallow me right now!!!”

I was on my way home in the usual 6:30pm office bus when it happened. It was too late when I realized that I had done it again. :-( :-(

It was Friday and I was in a very happy mood. I don’t know why but suddenly I felt like singing “Aj main upar….asmaan niche…” . No I had not got a promotion or an onsite and the salary hike had also been meager. No prizes for wild guesses…..No didn’t fall for cupid’s victim this time :P …But whatever be the reason, I was very happy.

I had even managed to beat my competitor in the race of occupying my favorite seat in the bus. I felt a strange satisfaction seeing his disappointed face when he saw me peeping through the window triumphantly. Ahh, what a way to end such a beautiful day! I mused.

 I don’t know anything about him apart from the fact that we both work in the same organization, avail the same bus back home and share the same affinity towards a particular seat the bus. Anyways, let me not get carried away by the emos..

The bus started and I happily plugged in my earphones and got swayed away by the music being played.

I started humming slowly. I must say that I have a pretty good collection of songs to suit my mood swings every now and then.

Those who know me know very well that I am a typical bathroom singer and I hate to sing public. Fortunately or unfortunately I had been always the chosen one to sing in all kind of occasions like republic day, independence day, teachers day and all those innumerable days since childhood. Not one such performance had ended without me turning beet-red after that . And with all those Indian Idol and SAREGAMAPA seasons being telecasted recently the hidden singer in me gets charged up..

So I continue to hum. One song after the another, feeling the lyrics, the tune, the soul of the songs, praising the lyricist and the music director even the actors who have lip sung!

I see the conductor of the bus turning back at times, maybe he is concerned about the people getting down. A sincere one, eh.. But I continue to hum, lip-sing with the earphones ON.

The bus gets stuck in the usual traffic jam . Ughh…. how I hate these moments. Suddenly I feel a cold shudder and I look around. 

Oppsss!!! I see all the eyes in the bus is staring at me! Is everybody smiling! I quickly pass a stern glance at my friend sitting nearby. He almost chockes himself with laughter!

Was I audible? I texted him. Even to the person in the last seat! He texted back. What!!! I passed a nasty look at him again for not warning me. Now I can even see people peeping from their seats to see the person who had stopped singing!


Shit man!! I realized that it had been more than half an hour since the bus started. Oh no!! Even my seat-competitor is smiling at me now. Grrrrrr..

“Please Lord…why me all the time??? Now make me invisible or Let the earth open up and swallow me right now!!!”

TaalGaach (The Palm Tree)

Now the next person of Group A to come on stage and recite her poem is Trijeeta. I felt suddenly as if somebody had awaken me from a deep sleep. I tightly gripped my father’s arms in fear. I want to run away but don’t feel my legs anymore. Baba slowly patted my arms and took me to the steps that lead to the stage.

I was hardly 4 or 5. It was my first participation in the recitation competition held in our township on the eve of Rabindra Jayanti. My over-enthusiastic Maa had been toiling for days helping me memorize the poem with the expressions and hand movements every now and then. I had no prior experience of reciting any poem apart from the Nursery Rhymes and had always let my mother down when anybody asked me to recite any one of them.

I climb the steps and stop at the corner of the stage. Uncle lead me to the centre of the stage and made me stand in front of the mike facing the audience. Uncle, as everyone called him was the pricipal of the nursery school I went to and the organizer of that event.
Someone from nowhere came running and adjusted the mike for my height.

My hands froze, my throat dried, my voice choked looking at the audience. The panel of judges wearing heavy glasses sat behind the white-clothed tables in the first row. The children and the participants sat just behind. The parents and the rest of the audience sat behind them. All the eyes fixed on me.
 I try looking for Baba among them. I saw him standing with eyes full of support, exactly at the place where he had left me. I look at him with shy full tears in my eyes and he looked at me with eyes full of reassurance and comfort.

I could hear Uncle prompting me to start.

“Nomoshkar…Kobiguru Robindranath er TaalGachh…” My voice echoed around the auditorium and scared me even more. I gulped in my saliva in order to clear my throat and took a deep breath.

“Taal gach ek paye dariye….sob gach chariye…uki mare akashe”, as taught I look up as if to visualize a distant sky above. I notice lots of mikes hanging above at the different levels all across the edge of the stage. The Disco ball which looked so pretty from far looked giant and scary above.

I close my eyes and try to concentrate.
“Mone sadh kalo megh fure jay…ekebare ure jay….kotha pabe pakha se..
Taito se thik tar mathate…goal goal patate…eccheti mele tar
Mone mone vabe bujhi dana ei…ure jete mana nei…basakhani fele tar…”

While my mother was teaching me this poem, I had asked her why the Taalgach had to stand all day long only on one leg. She said it had only one leg. I had sympathized the Taalgach and had even tried to stand on one leg.

Ohh! Uncle is prompting me again. I had stopped reciting. What are the next lines? I helplessly look at him and then guiltily at the judges. Uncle comes to my rescue prompting me the next lines.

“Saradin jhor-jhor …thor-thor….kanpe pata pottor….ure jeno jabe o…
Mone mone akashete beriye…tarader eriye…jeno kotha jabe o…”

I had seen my classmates getting punished and asked to stand on one leg infront of the pricipal’s office. They were not allowed to play during the games period. What did the Taalgach do? Did he not do his homework , was late or had forgot to bring his books to school?

“Tarpore hawa jei neme jay…pata kanpa theme jay…fere tar monti…
Jei bhabe Ma je hoy mati tar…bhalo lage aarbar…prithibir konti…

Dhanyabad”.

I ended exactly how my mother taught me bowing in front folding my arms together. I walked to the end of the stage and ran as fast as I could down the stairs, diving straight into Baba’s arms, hiding my face in his shoulders out of embarrassment, guilt and insecurity. I knew I had forgotten my lines and all the expressions in between.

Baba, usually a man of few words, patted my back and caressed my hair and said, “Bhalo hoyeche..”

PS: For the people who don't understand Bengali, please excuse me. I have dared not to translate the poem by RabindraNath Tagore.

Shadi.com

Note: The below blog is purely written in light humor. No offense is intended to anyone. And in case some of you get alarmed reading it, please understand that some portions have been tweaked or exaggerated to suit the theme. But otherwise, I’ve tried to stay loyal to the original plot.

It all started when most of my friends got married one after the other. It was enough to set the alarm bells ringing for my parents and a steep rise in their B.P. and blood sugar levels was noticed.  I had even started lying to my mother about my friend’s marital status and ending up missing their much awaited marriage invitations in return.

After being pestered a lot by my mom to create a profile in the matrimonial sites for many days I gave in. Not because I wanted to see my mother happy but I had nothing else to do one US support night where there was not much of work to do and I had to stay awake till 6AM in the morning! Yawwwnn..

None of my friends were online and I was bored listening to music and refreshing the SYSAID to check for new tickets. Yes, there was one more reason, the vital one indeed. I wanted to get married. I am tired of paying for all my expenses myself. What? It was a joke!! Have you guys lost it?!!:D :D

OK..thats how it started..and it was enough to keep me awake for the next few days!!

After creating my profile, I saved my search criteria as well…and Lo! 5457 matches! WTF(wow that’s fantastic J)!!..it cant be serious! No wonder the female ratio in India was lower than that of male…The feminist in me sighed...

I started scanning the profiles..good looking..not so much…pathetic…cute..so-so.…with mustache…dimpled…geeky....NRIs…self employeds..loads-of-degrees…preferred matches…mutual matches….Ugh!!

I scrolled down the list scanning the profiles and then scrolled up. Oh…hmm…Cute...was my first thoughts when I re-checked a profile highlighted in green by the site. A preferred match. I don’t know what the logic behind it is but I want to really thank the person who has written this code. :D Oh!The horoscopes match 74%! Thank you so much Lord!  :P Haan Haan…I know…I don’t believe in them…c’mon there can be exceptions too.. :D :P.

Ok..so my first ever  conversation starts..with Mr. PM(Preferred Match). After an initial hi-hello he asked, “After going through my profile, do you have any questions “?

Yes! Will you marry me? I wanted to reply but controlled myself. :D :D

“ What are your expectations from a guy?”

”Oh yes..he should be…err..well”..

Damn, I should have done some preparations at least. I quickly scanned through his profile again for help!

Well , though eventually things didn’t work out with Mr PM , yet I managed to gain a lot of useful tips and tricks of Dos and Don’ts in matrimonial. *Sob sob* (Did anyone say it’s hard to forget your first.… :P)

Next someone asked me, ”I shall ask you a question and if you don’t feel like answering you can say PASS and then vice-versa”. What!!!

Or like. “Who do you think is the role model in your life and why?” Is someone considering himself as  some beauty pageant judge? :P :P

Ok...So moving on...My cell phone continues to beep with the members interested in my profile. And here are some hilarious profiles which really drove me into fits of laughter..

Profile#1(partner preference):

She should be well educated and also career oriented professional i.e. homely and yet outgoing and at the same time a good friend and also a good wife. She should have no greed for money and should love me and me.

No greed for money ..eh?? whose money?? :D :D

Profile #2:

If baldness is not a problem for you, then I can certify that I am quite a nice person :)

A bald saint..what say?? :P

Profile #3(about himself):

To marriage with Mr XYZl!!!. is a Software developer(Java/ J2EE) and a Software Development and software products and other Business-man!!!Annual profits u may not imagine also!!! If u have any idea about a software company and shopping site do profit in year then u may imagine about profit. And I am not willing to fully disclose it here now, u will be knowing it on our direct discussion time.

Ahaa!! I guess there are no income tax officers around.. :D :D

Profile #4(about himself):

 I am really a very good human being, kind heart person what u cannot find out on others (I am having some special characteristics I think).

Hee..Hee….might be he turns into monkey man at night!! Or Were-Wolf!! Or Vampires!!Gosh!!

Profile#5(partner preference):

 I required a wife whose heart is having already stored full of love for her life-partner and waiting to give her life partner. And after marriage with me , she will give her heart(s) full love to me and will bind me by much more love forever.

Yeeeshhhh…oshlill… :D :D

Yes and the journey still continues. I just pray it doesn’t turn out to be a frustrating one and I meet my “potential suitor” soon. Wish me luck guys!

5 years of so called professionalism

Its been 5 years. Yes 5 long years.

The journey started on 02^nd July 2007 and still goes on.  Sure there were ups and downs, highs and lows but I really miss those initial days..

Me sleeping in the boring ABAP training…(Yes !! On the first row!! Right beside Sweta whole noted down every single word uttered by the trainer.. :P)

Scoring awful in the tests..(No wonder they put me in XI from ABAP.. :D :D)

Bunking office to go to RDB,

The regular walks and jhalmuri in the evening exploring Sec-V..

Sharing the lunch..( I eyed the lunch boxes of Rakhi, Ritu and Manisha..:P :P)

Free ka cold-drinks and milk.. :D :D (Ahh!! that’s a secret not to be revealed)

Posing in front of other people’s car and uploading it in Orkut.. hehe…(Most of them have their won cars now)

The frustrating months in bench..(Though I enjoyed the most.. :-) )

The morning coffee at the lounge which usually lasted till lunch.. (was in bench yaar.. :P)

The Recession…

The regular visits to the Resource Manager’s cubicle..

Walking with my cv in hand around Sec-V in search of a job with Ritu..(I was pretty scared of a lay-off .)

Teasing Subhajit about his wife, then his girfriend..(:D :D I don’t miss it now… we are again in the same company!!)

The drooling over onsite pics of some colleagues… (tch..tch)

The over –emotional Anurupa..

My  no-carb and no-oil diets..(it worked though)

Our non-stop photo shoots at every possible location in the office premises.. :P :P

Arijit’s marriage..(not to forget his special gift.. :D :D)

The birthday treats…

F1.... (well... :D :D)

Shopping Spree with Rakhi Bose..

Our first picnic together…

Our Jashn(annual party night) plannings…(Remember Rakhi…we were so busy shopping for Jashn that we almost forgot to go there!!)

The pranks I played in office... (Sankar my usual bakra...lol)

Aww!! I miss it all!! It’s been a memorable journey…

Who said no one is your friend in professional life? I got my friends for life here.

Though times have changed and we are spread all over the world at present..and meet only in Facebook…yet the same bond prevails… the same feeling of togetherness…