tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43860838644884921362024-02-19T17:48:38.171+05:30Babbles of a merciless soulDisclaimer: My thoughts dictate my punctuation.Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.comBlogger64125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-86816236032126126222022-01-27T02:27:00.003+05:302022-01-27T02:27:33.264+05:30The winters in my simplified world It could go
down to may be 10 degrees. At night could be a bit lower. Mornings were all
foggy, really foggy. Then as the day progressed, there was a sweet sun. Just
about the right amount of warmth that you need in the winter days. After a
hearty lunch, which would typically include all seasonal vegetables, like the
cabbage with green peas or the cauliflower with potatoes, the fish with
Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-18240343034519409712016-01-13T17:57:00.000+05:302016-01-13T22:23:45.186+05:30Of the Bengali quest for panacea…
Bengalis (those who speak the language Bengali) are a fine
class. They have over years transferred ancient Bengali wisdom (not just any
wisdom) on how to stay fit and healthy through generations. For example:
Wisdom 01: Eat fish, fish eyes and head especially and you
will have a great eye sight.
Well-known fact:
Bengalis are bespectacled more than people from other regions.
Wisdom 02: Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-22451672420171500662015-07-29T02:09:00.005+05:302015-07-29T12:16:52.623+05:30Of lives - their lives
She had a lively pair of eyes. Intelligent and inquisitive. Her hair done in braids and tied in a knot on top of her head. She was
wearing a black knee length dress that caressed her body playfully. Chewing on
a toothpick, she was efficiently calculating the money and delivering the order
from the small window behind the bars. The place was cozy (read small), dark, plastic chairs
arranged Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-82553439584457753282015-05-30T00:51:00.002+05:302015-05-30T00:54:27.383+05:30Of scattered lifes...
Life lay scattered. For some reason. In front of me. It was
your life.
Your dreams I did not know. You were meant to be back where
you belong. You do not BELONG where you are now. You cannot. It is not fair. I
did not know you well. But I saw you smile. It was bold and beautiful. It was
full of life. I saw intelligence. In your eyes. The eyes were full of life too.
Is that what you really Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-71059268585134606332015-03-06T23:27:00.004+05:302015-03-06T23:27:43.815+05:30I take back my wish...
I still remember the morning. I was in a car, driving
towards the airport. To go to Andamans for my annual vacation. It was a winter
morning of December, 2012. Something inside me broke that day. Because she
died. I wanted her to be with us. To prove that they cannot break our spirit or
our bodies.
3 years later, I take back my wish. What would’ve you
witnessed if you were alive today?
<Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-89675654392286383572014-09-20T02:17:00.001+05:302014-09-20T03:20:57.037+05:30Of feeling safe
So how does one define feeling safe? Being in a safe region? Being in the arms of someone who makes you feel secure? Being in the home one grew up in? Being comfortable wherever they are? Being in a place that is protected?
This is not something that I have really thought about in details ever before. But this is something that has been a matter of great significance to me in the last few days.Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-62586539166100914272014-03-27T19:54:00.001+05:302014-03-27T20:41:31.466+05:30They sigh...
He rests his trembling
hands on the table. The veins form a complex network of tributaries and
distributaries. Some throb for seconds, uncontrollably. He tries to steady
them. The satin tablecloth lies under his fingers, wrinkle-free, cold. He
glances at the flowers in a small vase kept on the table, the cutlery and the
dishes. He looks around; the tall pillars, the crystal chandeliers, the
Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-45447005487077314912014-02-16T20:37:00.000+05:302014-02-16T20:37:28.545+05:30Only if he knew how...
He could
hear it approaching, slow and steady…He closed his eyes, braced his knees to
his chest, and firmly placed the wet towel roll between his jaws. It started
getting louder, the vision got blurred with streaks of red neon flashes as he
placed himself on the bed and waited. Beads of sweat turned into patches of
sweat as he shivered uncontrollably on his bed, trying hard not to clench his
Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-79249319847240636452014-01-02T11:39:00.000+05:302014-01-11T19:34:49.185+05:30Of faith, belief and stories around you
* With much enthusiasm, she carried her bent body, crooked legs, thin arms, greying hair and tired wrinkles wrapped around a torn saree on a walking stick. She trailed behind her family members, but she carried on.
* His 4-year old son sat on his shoulders, eyes wide open, staring at the mammoth human conglomeration around him. At three in a chilly winter morning, the 4-year old was Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-37352942477170989002013-09-29T18:54:00.004+05:302013-09-29T18:58:18.377+05:30It happened one afternoon...
She has been walking for hours now in search of life. With no cars on the road, or a gas station or even a tavern in the vicinity, the winding road next to the thick forest looms as a threat in front of her. It's especially hot for this time of the year.
She knew the moment her car broke down, that it's going to be a long day. "Hello...hello...can you hear me?", the cell phone breaks Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-85610102455673644612013-09-28T19:35:00.003+05:302013-09-28T20:34:18.814+05:30Of packing and unpacking a lifetime...
I know this is going to be a controversial topic, way more
controversial opinion that I have ever put down in the expressionless
cyberspace. But it's been nudging me for a while to be explored and I finally
am taking the plunge. Before I forge ahead with my blabber, I really want to
appeal to the unfortunate folks who are actually reading this piece that I am
not being judgmental Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-5789888442192908602013-01-27T22:10:00.005+05:302013-02-02T22:39:48.154+05:30" You seem to me like a loner"
...My colleague said, emphatically. I immediately apologised, with a sad smile, "Sorry!" Two questions popped up in my mind as I watched the traffic zoom by while entertaining my usual vices, with two of my loner travel buddies, in Montra, Pattaya, Bangkok:
1. Why was I apologetic?
2. How do you define a loner?
I haven't had quite a chequered life as many, I have tried to take my Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-43101734409573457242013-01-13T13:51:00.001+05:302013-01-13T19:23:00.568+05:30Of misplaced Bindis (colorful dots that Indian women wear on their forehead)
They are everywhere...on the mirrors, on the bathroom walls, on the dressing table cabinet, even on the headstand of a bed. In the hotels, resorts, beds and breakfasts and even in the shacks. On the roads, ambulances and police vans...they are there too.
The first time I saw them, left on the bathroom mirror of a hotel room, I immediately thought of the story of the forehead that Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-69640100435291507492012-11-12T23:26:00.001+05:302012-11-13T21:10:03.900+05:30Where did good ol' pen and paper go?
I am the type who takes long to adapt to changes.
I don't like it when one picks up the pen from my desk and never returns it, somehow the Reylonds company had managed to make one customised pen for me, and now it's gone...I have to get used to a new one!!
I also don't like when my neighbor's kid glances through my newspaper and folds it in a different way before I open the Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-19816957183205353332012-08-31T13:56:00.002+05:302012-08-31T14:13:22.654+05:30Of a ‘Broke’n Existence
Of late I have found myself precariously positioned at the edge of bankruptcy, every month-end. It’s been a while and I must say being broke is possibly the best education on life, economy and relationships that you can get for free. Learned the ‘penniless’ way, these lessons may just make you wiser.
Lesson 1: ATM
There is some way, I don’t know how, the ATM machine senses your state. Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-6634278120114657142012-06-24T23:52:00.001+05:302012-06-25T01:55:17.202+05:30Relationships
Relationships are always counter intuitive. You think you know its going in one way, bang it comes and bites you where it should not. Let me also make this humble observation: Relationships are not between humans only, they are between you and objects, you and narcissism (your and your near and far ones), you and that particular pot hole on the road, you and that rotting apple in your Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-16622446482428240122012-01-07T23:08:00.002+05:302012-01-10T00:39:19.073+05:30When they steal...At 85, she looks surprisingly young, may be around 70 or so, strong built, signature marks left on her determined lips by years of betel leaf chewing, power glasses and an warm smile. She has recently moved to Kolkata with her second son and his family: wife and two kids. In a small 550 square feet, 2BHK flat, the family lives through their daily chores, silences, nods, laughs and disagreements. Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-54016853989637899342011-12-10T23:54:00.006+05:302011-12-11T11:16:18.856+05:30The illusive tiffin box
It started with the steel ones with small plastic snappers on its sides. A small top-open container inside it. It will carry biscuits, banana and may be a small sandesh in the small top-open container. I eyed with envy at the other five-year old opening her tiffin box, compartmentalized with a lovely Tom and Jerry cartoon on the lead (in my days Barbie wasn't immortalized). She had a Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-5498571246011199872011-10-06T22:45:00.002+05:302011-10-07T10:44:06.558+05:30Being rejected
How often have you been rejected? In love? In relationships? By companies? By educational institutions? By friends? By your own dreams? By your own capability? And by reality? How do you feel when you are rejected?
...Perched throat, thumping heart, cold fingers, trembling voice, sweating forehead...? All of it? Some of it? I have had my fair share of rejections till now, and must confess, did Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-15148199976550113752011-08-14T14:28:00.002+05:302011-10-06T23:14:09.947+05:30Have you heard the rain?(C) Saptarshi Gupta
Have you heard the rain?...when it speaks to you? Have you heard the rain?...when it lulls you? Have you heard the rain?...when it admonishes you? Or, have you heard the rain?...when it nudges you to lose yourself?
Have you listened to the rain when it lightly brushes against the window of a fast moving train, grabs your hand and sprints to a place where you know you areEnduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-70924141320491846522011-05-22T13:35:00.011+05:302011-06-07T09:29:59.746+05:30From me to you...I remember you crossing my path once in a while. I remember you bringing a smile on my lips once in a while. Yes, there were times when you would walk with me, but then, you walked your own path till we met again. I do remember you crossing my path once in a while.
It rained a lot one day, I remember. The sun was fierce that day, burning down anything that came on its way. You ignored Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-20873849585990546732011-05-11T10:35:00.008+05:302011-05-14T12:39:56.698+05:30She is...She stood there, in front of the mirror, naked. Her hair framed her face, ever so lightly, poignantly lifting her chin as her eyes dropped. The street lights lost their way into her room through the glass windows. Carelessly glancing through her body and caressing the mounds and the curves, creating a drama. Her eyes, she felt, were tired. Her thoughts, she knew, were exhausted. Her Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-19573623474960351912011-03-27T22:52:00.003+05:302011-03-27T23:07:00.369+05:30Victim of Internet, prodigal daughter lashes out
I am a lavish spender and user when it comes to Internet, since the days in mid-nineties when a 10 min surfing would cost you 70 bucks (not that it does not cost this much today, it actually does, in Calcutta airport - 85 bucks/10 min - but that's another story, I digress) and when sending an email to someone in Bombay would cost less than sending an email to someone in London :).Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-71075234195634600632011-03-04T22:26:00.009+05:302011-03-04T23:18:42.053+05:30Of losing someoneIt takes a while to realise why you are dying everyday.
It takes a while to appreciate that you are living everyday.
It takes a lifetime to realise that you had lived.
- for some, like me, it is true.
When I say, we die everyday - I do not by any means want to be prophetic or scientific. To someone very dear to me, who left, and yet lives, whose loss makes me numb, yet a voice inside me criesEnduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4386083864488492136.post-24084676832795551342011-01-30T19:02:00.006+05:302011-01-31T22:58:25.067+05:30The arch-villain
He did not know how it had happened.
He was born in a world of disparity, betrayal, greed, anger and violence. His failure to blend in to his world made him feel unwanted. He adopted himself to his surroundings. He learnt the tricks of his world easily, juggling with emotions, fending off the smiles, nurturing the anger, and worked his way to adulthood.
They were all disappointed in him.Enduring the Babbles of Lifehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12783281587441159139noreply@blogger.com4