The First Kiss

I remember my first kiss.

I remember the events that led to it.

I remember that stroll in the park,

And the sudden realization that dawned upon us.

Maybe, maybe just for one night,

We could escape.

And escape we did.

Bags were packed in haste,

Lies were told to friends,

And off we went.

Along the bus ride,

When the evening sun went down,

It was dark and quiet.

He brushed his lips on my cheek,

And I was in a haze,

Can't recall rest of the way.

Next, I know,

We were in a hotel room.

All freshened up and ready to sleep,

And then he took me by surprise,

Kissed me on the lips,

And left me mesmerized.

I let it linger for a while,

And kissed him back with all my might.

I remember the wetness of the kiss.

I remember how much I loved his lips.

I remember how overwhelmed I felt.

I remember my first kiss,

To the smallest details.

We had many a secret rendezvous since then,

Each time getting bolder and better.

I loved him with all my heart,

And gave him all I had.

It was an all-consuming love.

But today, as I scribble these words,

I wonder, should you really let love,

Consume you at all?

Ye Olde English!!!

English is a weird language. It's always evolving. Being flexible and adaptable to changes in the society is what has made it survive for so long. The main reason it is one of the most spoken languages in the world is that it doesn't shy away from including words from different languages and modifying them, which makes it relevant for all age groups as well as for people belonging to different parts of the world.

You'll be surprised to know that not all words used to mean what you know them to mean now. Prior to being used as a synonym for absurd or ridiculous, in old English, 'Silly' meant happy or blessed. Similarly, 'Moody' comes from the word modig, which meant brave or wilful. Now that I come to think of it, maybe that's where JK Rowling got the inspiration for the name Alastor Moody, or popularly known as Mad-Eye. And also, once upon time, 'Artificial' used to mean skilled.

When it comes to borrowing, Oxford English dictionary does it with great pleasure. The latest word to be added to the dictionary is 'Ayyo', or 'Aiyo', which is used as an expression for distress, regret or grief, similar to 'Oh no!' or 'Oh dear!', in southern India.

English is also not very far behind when it comes to adding abbreviations. Nimby, which is a colloquialism signifying objections by a person regarding constructions near his/her own resident, actually is an acronym for Not In My Backyard.

These are just a few examples of how our beloved language has always been hip and happening and #goingwiththetrend. There are many more little surprises it has in store for everyone who's interested to dig a little deeper into its rich history.

Life as Newb sees it

As a fresher, when you join a B-school, you don’t expect it to be very different than your undergrad college. Same old mass bunks, missing classes (or even if we somehow managed to reach the class in time, we would end up sleeping there), the 8 o’ clock deadline for the girl’s hostel. After all, it is a college. How different could it be?

But boy oh Boy, was I in for a surprise?

Back at my engineering college, we girls had to fight tooth and nail with our warden to get an extension of an hour past the deadline whereas here the day actually starts at 8 P.M. Co-ed hostels was something so far-fetched that we didn’t even dream of and now actually l am living in one. Coming from a slightly conservative college, this is definitely huge for me.

Next shock for me was the diversity. One can find freshers, like me, studying alongside with people born in a completely different decade. No doubt there are engineers, but there are students from fields as distinct as philosophy and English and physics. You finally get what “Unity in Diversity” actually feels like.

Mass bunks is an alien concept here. My three weeks Dussehra holidays turned to a 3-day weekend. Earlier, I would miss classes at my will and now missing a class would earn me a grade drop. Sleeping in classes to desperate class participation, craving for that 6lpa package to getting a stipend of almost double the amount for an internship,  from the flexible schedule to “sacrosanct” deadlines, a B-School definitely has its own eccentricities and charms.

Nevertheless, it’s been almost five months, that I have been here at XLRI, and the experiences I have had here are nothing compared to my undergrads. Starting from The completely different teaching methodology to a batch that feels like home and sticks together, a b-school gives the perfect glimpse of what stays in store when I finally come out of the sheltered cocoon to the big corporate world.

I'm a girl, and I hate Shopping!!!

Shopping.

I absolutely hate shopping.

A typical shopping day with me would be me sitting in the corner of the shop while you try out your favourite outfits.

The obvious reason is it involves human interaction. I don't need any guy or girl telling me how pretty I would look in the black or peach dress. The voices inside my head already do that for me.

Also, I am lazy to such an extent that even when I am supposed to be shopping for myself, I get bored after some two to three outfits and either buy whatever is shown next or just walk out of the shop without buying anything at all in which case I earn a few disgruntled looks from the shopkeepers.

I hate the walking too. Apparently women are not satisfied by the variety of choices they get in a single shop. They want to look through other options in multiple shops. At the same time, keeping the first guy still hanging on a thread.

“Bhaiyya, ise rakhe rehna, thoda ghum ke aate hai.” (Keep this aside, will come to you after looking around a bit)

That's how they do it.

And it's not just the walking. When presented with a lot of choices, I get all confused and confunded and end up buying some shitty dress which I will probably never wear more than once or twice.

So, it's not just physical shopping, even online shopping is not a very welcoming alternative.

I love getting dressed up and trying new outfits as often as I can. But actually moving my weight around seems like an uphill task.

They make my Heart melt

When you are away from home and mother calls up, “Did you have something to eat?”

When you are preparing for an exam or an interview, and father says, “Ask for any help you need”, even amidst a busy day in plant.

When you love reading, but haven't had time to read a book in a very long time and sister calls up saying, “Hey, I'm bringing a book for you,” even though she doesn't earn.

When, after it has been months since college, and friend says, “I miss you, yaar.”

When you have come back home, after long long time and mother says, “You don't take care of yourself, come, let me oil your hair.”

When father, who has never shown affection outwardly, texts you, “Happy Birthday” and “Congratulations”, because he is proud of your achievements.

When sister calls up in the middle of night and says, “Sister, I am bored. Talk to me.”

When you are travelling alone, and your friend says, “Keep texting me till you reach your room.”

Weirdly though, people around me don't explicitly say “I love you” or “I care”. They have their own versions. And every little implicit versions of I love you's melt my heart.

What makes me Jealous?

In my campus, the professors live with their family within the campus. Most of them have little kids, who have made the roads their own personal playground. Post 5 or 6pm, the chillar party can be seen racing their bikes or playing football.

What makes me jealous?

Their carefree nature. They don't have to meet deadlines. Their friends don't need to make arrangements from a week before for a single video call. They don't have loans to worry about. They are living in the cocoon of comfort and love and hell, yeah I am jealous of them.

It reminds me of my childhood days. We lived in a colony. Festivals were a big deal. Say, it's Diwali. The entire block comes together to burst crackers and celebrate the festival of lights. Whereas, today, it's Mahaashtami.(The eighth day of Goddess Durga's 10 day visit). I am in my room, back for a small break, after attending classes for four hours, and will go back to classes again.

Now, this is not to be confused with the Peter Pan syndrome, where an adult refuses to grow up, but this is rather a nostalgic feeling, reminiscences of my childhood days.

And so, yeah, I want my childhood back.

If it's Unknown, Does it even Exist?

There are two kind of people. One who have been raised up in a family that is religious and the other who come from a family that has never been much into religion. I cannot speak for the other half, but can give a small sneak peek into the former category.

I come from a middle class Bengali family and from childhood have seen my mother praying twice a day. She occasionally keeps fast and there are days when the entire household is not supposed to have non-veg. When I was a small kid, my sister and I would often sit along with my mother and try to imitate her. It had become some kind of a game for us.

As we grew a little older, somewhere around the age of 14 or 15, my mother once tried explaining me the concept of God. She said, there’s is some superpower out there who looks after us from above. She asked us to keep that superpower in mind whenever we are about to set for some task, be it exams or simply riding the scooty over to a friend’s place. So, to me, that was God. A superpower. It had no form. I would stand in front of the idols and pray to a formless entity. I sucked at memorizing the hymns and always would ask that entity to look after the people I cared for. Sometimes I would get a little greedy and ask for good grades, but my rational brain knew, that grades and marks were completely dependent on the effort I put. Nevertheless, I would still thank the Entity for anything good that happened in life.

Then, a few years back, I went through a difficult phase. Somehow,everything stopped making sense. Bad things were happening and I couldn’t figure out why. I had tons of questions and no answers. I looked up at the Entity for some kind of explanation, and I didn’t get any. Months went by and I was still in a haze. Then a doubt start creeping into my mind.

If there is some Superpower looking after all of us, why is it that I get to have so many privileges, and not the kids in Africa? Why do I get to have more food than I can consume, and people are dying because of starvation? Why do I get a job with a higher pay and not that girl or guy who is any day better than me? Why is it that some die young and some have to live long enough to see everyone they care about leave one by one? Who gets to decide what kind of life a person deserves?
The more I thought about it, more questions came to my mind and the entire Superpower and Entity concept, couldn’t answer these questions. I don’t hate the concept of religion, I just don’t believe there is somebody looking out for us. I will anyday bow my head to my parents and the freedom fighters who fought hard to free us and all those great humans working endlessly and tirelessly for the betterment of humanity, but no more to the Unknown.

You don't understand. I can't explain.

Depression.

This something that I have wanted to talk about for a long time.

So let me start by telling you of a small conversation I had a little while back. Recently, someone I know remarked that if a person who is well established in life, doing better than her peers and is on a career path that is going upwards, shouldn’t have anything to be depressed about.

Now, here is what I have to say about it.

Depression doesn’t only hit those who have no money or job. Those are the most basic needs of a person.

There are quite a few popular theories of motivation like the Two factor Theory and Theory of Hierarchy of Needs, which clearly states that Money is the hygiene factor or our Physiological Need, which is a bare minimum that every individual needs to live a proper life. What really motivates us to put forth our best effort is when we get social acceptance and recognition.

It’s the same with Depression. Not everyone earning money or fame is necessarily happy. Not every smile that you see is genuine. There are high chances that the posts that you see on somebody’s Instagram profile are a way of filling up a void. Somebody might be surrounded by a crowd and still be lonely.

And no, it’s not a phase that will pass. Depressed people don’t always bring it on themselves. Even they want to be happy. They want to be able to actually have fun and not fake it. They hate the heavy weight that they carry. For once, they want to throw away the burden and feel normal.

But more often that not, they are misunderstood. Coming out as being depressed has become nearly as difficult as talking about one’s sexual orientation. People judge. People give you recommendations as to how you need to go out more and open up more and keep yourself busy. There are also few who don’t want to admit they are depressed. They drown themselves in alcohol and drugs to numb their feelings.

Just a small suggestion. Listen to your friends. Make them feel that they belong. Keep in touch. Ask about their work and personal life. I understand it is very difficult to find time from the packed schedule, but nevertheless, an unexpected phone call from an old friend works miracle. Just let them know, that you are there and you care. Believe me, it can make a difference and have a very big impact.

Miss Me?

Our eyes met and I fled

You pursued but I left                                                                                                             

I ran to my room and shed a few tears 

For a few days, which turned into months and then years                                                                        

Today,

I miss how my clothes used to smell like you  

I miss those sweet kisses you blew                                                   

I miss how we ended each conversation with “love yous”

I miss you holding my hand while we  crossed the roads  

I miss your leaning for a secret kiss in the auto

I miss your “call me back when you reach your room” 

I miss calling you up at random hours  

And I miss waking up to your random texts

I miss being yours and you being mine  

I miss being happy 

But most of all

I miss you.

Sunshine and Hurricane

The other day, while I was traveling by train,

There was this girl by the window. 

The melancholy on her face, so full of pain.

I wondered what could have gone so wrong to bring so much of sorrow.

Beside me were two little kids of a young mother

Waving at cattle with a look of awe and wonder

They jumped and laughed and were having the time of their life

The poor mother had her hands full and a huge smile.

The girl by the window looked out at the plains

At the empty roads and railway tracks that passed by.

And occasionally she would raise her eyes.

But avert them as soon as she met my sight.

The kids meanwhile made a raucous 

They started this new game of circus

Though the game was less of fun and more of fight 

They still won hearts and spread delight.

The girl started fiddling with her phone

And her fingers stopped all at once. 

She was gazing. Having a long look

And was that a smile or were those the sunrays crisscrossing across her face?

But then her eyes welled up

I saw the perfect teardrop

Quickly I looked away

Lest that poor girl felt embarrassed.

A hurricane unfurled inside the girl

While the little chubbies were balls of pure love 

And I wondered just then

Is this what they call sunshine mixed with a little hurricane? 

Are you Really You?

When you take a walk on your memory lane
Do you see yourself as a changed person?
Do you still dance in your underpants and sing along?
Do you still cry with Meredith and love with Ross?
And what about those childhood friends
With whom you shared multiple friendship bands?
Do you wonder where did all that jauntiness go?
Who took away all your favorite memoirs?
Did you achieve everything you dreamt of?
Or are those dreams thrown down the drain and you have come up with new ones?
Are you still living by your principles?
Or have they changed as well with the changing world?
Do you miss the old you?
Are you really you?

She

She sat by the window with a book on her lap

Her eyes were no less than Daedalus' deathly trap

She didn't sigh when a funeral party went by

Nor did she smile when a flock of birds flew across the sky 

She just sat there with a book on her lap. 

 "Girl, you alright?" asked some passers-by

"Never been better ", was her prompt reply 

Her thoughts you couldn't read on her face 

But I knew what went behind that maze. 

 How? You ask. 

'Coz that girl's me if I say 

And you and him and her and everyone else

Who have had their wings cut and their dreams torn 

And the rebel in them nipped even before its born 

And so there she sat, all by herself 

Lost in thoughts of could-have-beens and should-have-beens 

Smiles and sighs forgotten 

She just sat there, with a book on her lap.

Fifth of September

Today, the fifth of September, is Teacher's Day
And while I wondered how to wish and what to write
Those good old text messages seemed too clichéd
So, here I am writing you a poem
To let you know how grateful I am
For having faith in me when I didn't
For helping me out in every phase
I can't thank you enough for all that time and effort
You invested to make sure I learned
Not only just Physics, Chemistry and Maths
But all those important life lessons I still hold close to my heart
I hope that this little homage of mine
Finds you with a big huge smile
Happy Teacher's Day, Sir!!!!

Will you Regret Me?

When the night comes, and you are still awake questioning every life decision you ever made, will you regret me?
When you are all by yourself, no one to talk to, but browsing your contacts, will your fingers stop swiping, when my name comes up?
And when after 20 years, if you see me on some crosswalk, will you stop and say hello, or just walk by avoiding my gaze?