Question : What do you gift a Tramp?

When I walk in to that old bar in New Orleans some day, I'll love to say-

-Just, the regulars.

There's something about things that are mundanely regular that overpowers the seductive and somewhat intellectual call of Novelty.

Give me things that are usual. Give me things that smell of the old poetry book under the geography text in the summer afternoons. Of John Denver and Scarborough Fair. Of Sunday piano lessons and 'You and I'. Of Norah Jones.

Because I am sick of all things that are surreal and transcending. Don't give me something too divine and rare. I never know what to do with them.

Give me something I can touch. Feel. Something that will break when it falls. So I will be careful when I hold it. Something that needs to be watered to make it grow. Something that dies when taken out of water. Something I can cling to when I'm lonely and down.

And for heaven's sake don't give me things I'm never sure I possess.

Got through to TCS today :)

Loved. A Little Less.

They threw away the last bowl of payesh she'd ever cook. The soft sarees neatly hung on the wooden aalna smelled of winter afternoons in the sun. Of dried mango pickles. Of jowan and paan. Of crispy Lobongo lotikas.

As she burned on the banks of Ajay, a gaping darkness stared into the eyes of an old man. The couple on the wall smiled. He smiled back. She did too. (Like they had, fifty years back to the hooded camera.)

Only her smile bellowed in whiskers of smoke that drifted across the river.

The little goat she fed every afternoon stood motionless at the bamboo gate. Its head tilted. Searching eyes. Long after, it went its way.

It's difficult to sleep when the person who loved you the most burns brightly in the cold. In the drizzling rain.

For a friend

A poem by Veronica Shoffstall:


After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security.
You begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises.
And you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today.
because tomorrow's ground is
too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
So you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers
And you learn you really can endure
You really are strong.
You really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn...

'Morning Calcutta

Poster design :Sayantani Dasgupta

Love Actually

There are friends who will tell me I need to find a girl and fall in love (not necessarily in that order). There are still others who insist that my skills at doing absolutely useless things need to be put to good use. Such as the upkeep and well being of a lovely lady. People at a point of time almost convinced me that I keep myself occupied in all sorts of things to overcome the inconceivable emptiness that looms in my life. They had the solution, of course.

‘Get into a relationship! You will no longer need to do all the things you do.’

I do the few things I do because

a) I really love doing them.

b) It’s better than fooling around doing nothing.

Now it’s impossible to put it in a way less cornier, but I believe in what I do and I believe that I can make a difference.

I love a lot of people. A lot of things. And all that makes me the person I am. It’s just that I have never really found someone who would understand me somewhat. I hate to say this, but my standards too are pretty high. It’s convenient that way.

Some people have lame relationships. Okay, let’s put it this way: Some intelligent people I know go around with freaking stupid people. People I would not normally consider talking to. You would say they just have a very different way of looking at life. But I am a snob who thinks they are stupid people. They have this one common defense.

‘You know, he/she is very honest.’

As if honesty was an excuse enough to make up for their uselessness. And for crying out loud, if honesty and looks were the only deciding factor, I would marry a Labrador. Anyday.

Ah, that reminds me. I love animals too. All kinds.

I forgive them. I realize they are just keen in the general perpetuation of the human race. It’s nature’s invisible force at play. Poking me at all the right places.

This post is full of spite and sarcasms and things you would not find anywhere on my blog. But it’s just a word of caution to all the people who have been bugging me. I love being what I am. I cannot think like you do. I do not understand the way you look at life, love. If anyone who has known me thinks I have loved them any less than they deserved, I will remove this post and write out an apology.