i live in an orange and white house now, as opposed to the gritty-greyish-creamish-pinkish-can'tidentify and lightgreen-that-was-once-pink house. you see, the workmen came calling.
i didn't know that my dreams were portent of something. now after sharing bed, clothes, bathroom and every waking minute in the house with an extremely large number of members of the extended family, i feel that i should have known.i woke up one day to find three kids - two skinny and one fat - scraping the wall outside my room. as soon as i glared at them they stopped scraping and started putting a scaffold up. i stomped downstairs to find out that these were our latest houseguests.
the progenitor's brother is getting his house constructed. now junior is a conman par excellence and generally is the sort that gets things done. he got bored of the lack of excitement that his constructions were providing and decided to infuse some change in his routine. so the paint guys were given two-hours notice and told to pack for a week (don't forget toothbrushes and a sheet each) and were brought down from some 230 km away. my kakimoni came along as well - a saving grace - she's a cook worth dying for.
junior took them on an exploratory tour around the block and my mother and aunt cooked alurdom and luchi for "the boys". suitably fortified, "the boys" started on a demolition operation. i was held up at work that first day and when i got back home at 11, i saw three beady pairs of eyes in the living-room, peering from under a heap of sheets that looked extremely familiar. the rest of the house looked like it had been hit with a bomb. and then it all began.
every morning started with the scrape of a metallic sheet against plaster and a cloud of dust. as soon as they'd hear me moving around in the room, they'd stop the scraping and freeze till i went downstairs. there, the kitchen would be a veritable warzone with suggestions flying back and forth regarding what can be done for "the boys". breakfast, lunch and dinner had to offer enough variety - since they were not at home and must be missing their mums terribly - and junior and the progenitor would be sent to the market 13 times. the fish consumption in our house alone must have done something terrible to the ecological balance. each night i'd return home to find them happily watching my telly and i'd recieve frantic phone calls in the middle of interviews with strict instructions to get bengali blockbusters with improbable names. i had to rent 5 DVDs in three days and the local CDwallah gave me a look of disdain that i'll remember for a long time when i asked for abhimanyu. it' maybe a hit philim, but it's still infradig.
then they all decided that it wasn't enough fun as it were and so invitations were sent out. our happy family was joined by five more people, with the cheerful promise that the next team was on it's way. result: we got a lurid yellow bathroom with a pink plastic mirror; a confusion regarding what my great-grandfather's real name was; eleven house guests; three visits to extended family members everyone had forgotten existed; and a great big war over the choice of colours which revealed that my father can't climb trees (o' the shame of it) and that junior's choice of friends have always been inappropriate and that my aunt is extremely scared of monkeys and that my mother had been a closet-worshipper of santoshi-maa even though she knows it was a film and there's no actual deity. her reason - you never know.
anyway "the boys" scraped and cleaned and tried to paint the house a horrible yellow before being threatened with violence. after much heated debate and barbed exchanges regarding aesthetics and artistic sensibilities, the colour for the outer walls were chosen. in a rare moment of unanimity it was decided that we're not getting any more work done and all the paint work inside can be done some other time.
much suscpicious prodding and probing got the real story out. my mother and junior had promised the boys that they'd be sent back this weekend. reason being the local club that "the boys" belong to are hosting a play with cast that's being taken from calcutta and our boys have been assigned duty at the ladies' gate on monday. it would be unpardonable to make them miss that. and of course since it's their first visit to calcutta they'd have to be shown around. so, that thankfully ruled out any more of the paint work being done. this afternoon they were driven around the city by sulky and junior. "the boys" went plane-spotting via the rajarhat highway, they went and rode the metro, they went to victoria memorial and eden gardens and strand road and millenium park and made a round of both the howrah bridges and saw nicco park as well. they were fed coffee and chicken pakoras and dinner was chicken biriyani.
"the boys" are leaving early tomorrow morning.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
i dreamt of snowflakes. stinging and burning on my tongue. i dreamt of vast open spaces, except it was just knowing that there was a space. all i remember of the dream is the feeling - nothing else. not much of a dream. yet waking up from it turned it all blue.
sometimes it feels like being rinsed with that purplish liquid - a faint blue patina over the normal colours. something you can't do much about.
sometimes it feels like being rinsed with that purplish liquid - a faint blue patina over the normal colours. something you can't do much about.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Your Sloth Quotient: 59% |
 You're definitely lazier than the average person, but you're able to live a somewhat normal life. All your life needs is a little more effort and variety, and you might see that doing hard things is actually fun! |
i need to concentrate more on not doing things. i wanna 99%.i just wanna be the supersloth.
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
how can it be that after more than two decades, make it two point five decades, of education and constant hammering of concepts like self-worth, security and success, my only - one and only - ambition is not to do anything, ever? read books and raise dogs and sit and do nothing. yes, that's what i want my life to look like. and i can't even feel apologetic about it. how can it be?
i live for the day - that one day - when i'll stop and do nothing. and i don't want to be all old and washed out before i do that. i want my retirement now.
i live for the day - that one day - when i'll stop and do nothing. and i don't want to be all old and washed out before i do that. i want my retirement now.
Saturday, October 21, 2006
i am happy at the moment. ok, this has been one of my trademark drunk as a fish lines. but this time, i am sober and i mean it. the last few weeks haven't been too great.
work, toad, tempatation to walk away, restlessness, missing things and people and places i'm not supposed to miss, guilt, weariness...
R's father passed away a couple of weeks back. it was heartbreaking to watch her deal with it. it was even worse to watch her kid brother trying to be a "man" about it. none of us knew what to do, how to make things better (like that can be done) and felt like utter failures as human beings.
this evening was different, more relaxed and pleasant.
it seems like ages have passed since i had time enough for myself. which is sad, considering all major decsions i've made in the last two years have been geared to one goal - having more time.the other day, me and the southern wonder were mourning the fact that no-one recognises the fact that wanting contentment, wanting to be just happy - no more, no less - is a legitimate ambition.
time, people i care for, time for people i care for, and a good book or hundred when i get a bit tired of them - should be quite simple actually. except its not. there's some elusive ingredient that's always missing. but not tonight.
work, toad, tempatation to walk away, restlessness, missing things and people and places i'm not supposed to miss, guilt, weariness...
R's father passed away a couple of weeks back. it was heartbreaking to watch her deal with it. it was even worse to watch her kid brother trying to be a "man" about it. none of us knew what to do, how to make things better (like that can be done) and felt like utter failures as human beings.
this evening was different, more relaxed and pleasant.
it seems like ages have passed since i had time enough for myself. which is sad, considering all major decsions i've made in the last two years have been geared to one goal - having more time.the other day, me and the southern wonder were mourning the fact that no-one recognises the fact that wanting contentment, wanting to be just happy - no more, no less - is a legitimate ambition.
time, people i care for, time for people i care for, and a good book or hundred when i get a bit tired of them - should be quite simple actually. except its not. there's some elusive ingredient that's always missing. but not tonight.
none of our diyas survived beyond 10 minutes. of course this is all the progenitor's fault for he insisted on earthen diyas and made those wicks himself, claiming technical knowledge having watched someone do those eons ago. undaunted we took out chrismas decorations out of a blue reindeer-y box and set those up. it was hard to pick which one was more hideous - half-dying, spluttering diyas or erratic mini-berries in blue, green and yellow; that lit up in sporradic bouts. to complete the look, we added some dry-ish marigold strings too.
we tried to look suitably mournful to show solidarity with the man, but it was too frikkin' hilarious. we left him sulking. then psycho kid from the 'hood came calling to ask for help with her fireworks. told her to piss off since i'm too scared and as a result was dragged to the shop to go and get some, which R, S and psycho kid then let off with greatest glee. i sat on R's steps with her mum, my mum ( who abandoned her dreamy musings on how to make my father's life a greater misery for the rest of the evening), the other R and three cats.
we may not have had lights enough, but there was lots of laughter.after a long time.
we tried to look suitably mournful to show solidarity with the man, but it was too frikkin' hilarious. we left him sulking. then psycho kid from the 'hood came calling to ask for help with her fireworks. told her to piss off since i'm too scared and as a result was dragged to the shop to go and get some, which R, S and psycho kid then let off with greatest glee. i sat on R's steps with her mum, my mum ( who abandoned her dreamy musings on how to make my father's life a greater misery for the rest of the evening), the other R and three cats.
we may not have had lights enough, but there was lots of laughter.after a long time.
i'm pissed. a) i'm calvin, which is unfair, considering i take my maturity and cultivate it with all seriousness, b) i pasted it like an idiot three times on the blog and now i can neither see it nor delete it, c) some idiot has been letting off crackers right below my window and it's already too dark to see who it is, d) i'm expected to light up ten thousand fucking diyas dressed in a scratchy orange silk kurta ( with blue squiggles and golden spirals in it) and be happy about it, e) someone's messed up my pc so bad that opera's about the only thing that works , so half my fun things are denied to me and f) i haven't had my cup of coffee nor my two o clock cigarette.
and if that's not enough, my mother insisits on blasting devotional kali puja songs on the tv and is laughing like a maniac not eight inches away from me.
i am getting progessively pisseder and pisseder.
i need something monumental to get in a better mood. i'll be back. i need to celebrate the return of my cyberlife with something pleasant.
and if that's not enough, my mother insisits on blasting devotional kali puja songs on the tv and is laughing like a maniac not eight inches away from me.
i am getting progessively pisseder and pisseder.
i need something monumental to get in a better mood. i'll be back. i need to celebrate the return of my cyberlife with something pleasant.
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Friday, September 22, 2006 my subconscious gets a little more bizarre each day. i dreamt i was a sports car. and when i woke up, i knew beyond doubt that i'd been a red one too. i wonder if, instead of a padded cell, they'll give me one of those nice sunny grounds with a pond and benches and pottery class. or at least my own tree to sit and read under.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
i smell lilies, i think of fall colours, i think of tomorrow, i can taste raindrops i caught outside my window, i feel tremendously blue. i wonder if i have synaesthesia. not likely. the only sensation that has any permanence is blue, everything else fades away. i need a green day tomorrow. i need more colours.
Saturday, September 09, 2006
"i feel so horrible. i have to act grown-up now. the responsibilities that come with attaining a certain age is terrifying. i can't believe i won't be seventy-seven again." at this point, my mother stopped mid-way through singing happy birthday for him and clouted my father on the head.
i wish i had more adults in my life, so i'd know how to be one.
Monday, September 04, 2006
while there are designated office spaces at work, there is no rule that says you actually have to work where you keep your stash of dirty magazines and the menus from the takeaways. so at any random point in the day you may find people walking in and calmly staking out on a terminal, much in the same manner of people coming to spend a day on the beach.they sit and look around and smile at people, then keep their keychains, mobile and notes scribbled on dirty napkins on the table. if its a woman they take out a planner. if its a man they start scratching. sometimes you give them a look, sometimes you are given a look. sometimes they plead deadline, sometimes you yell page release. but it is understood by all parties that it is a day trip. a very fluid arrangement and nobody makes a habit of it.
except the weirdo who fastidiously eats pineapple discs every afternoon. he comes in with a coffin-like black bag at the same time, occupies the same pc, pisses off the same people, surfs the same websites and eats pineapple discs every single day. and no-one knows what he works on, who he works with, no-one has ever seen him actually sitting in another office and most people don't know his name. i was naturally very shocked to find that weirdo actually knows my name. he called me by my name to give me my phonebook today. but before i could recover from it, he yawned so widely that i could see the little fleshy thing at the back of his throat. it was so gross that it was kind of fascinating. then i couldn't stop wondering why i couldn't see his tonsils. and that did me in. every ten minutes i kept looking at weirdo to see if he'd yawn so spectacularly again. i tried the furtive glancing, i tried the absent-minded gaze, i tried the focussed look. but nada, zilch, nothing. then the bugger went and got himself coffee and ten minutes later, walked out not to return. if he doesn't return ever, i'll be left for life wondering whether or not he has tonsils and if yes, whether or not they will be visible when he yawns wide. i find this not knowing disturbing.
Sunday, September 03, 2006Friday, September 01, 2006
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