Thursday, 24 December 2009

Convocation 2009:memories.

Today is a holiday and my neighbour plays lovely music on holidays. I don't know what he looks like. He has a youngish looking silhouette and I feel very fond of him because I feel as if I'm living his life in proxy. When I was 17 I wanted to play the guitar and be a rockstar chick too. I felt it in spurts, because I am musically disabled, and because I...well, I have never felt very young.

Yesterday we graduated in orange robes. I felt even less young. Three and a half years jostled in my mind-I did not know which memory to select, I only had this overwhelming urge to cry. But instead we laughed, we laughed and smiled and posed for pictures. It was a beautiful day.

I hoped that some of my old friends whom I still love very much would forget differences for a day and come and well, talk. I wanted the old times, my heart and head throbbed with the old times. I remembered the first few months and then the friends I made, and I remembered that awful crush that I had and how even that faded, and how everything fades. I remembered the ganja and the smokes and how someone or the other always sings in front of Milonda's. Instead of crying, I laughed and posed for pictures.

I remembered how childish we were in those days. How Prayag completed Kubla Khan. How Nandita impressed me with her khistifying/bartending/writing skills. How Raju could decimate people with a few words, and love them with a hug. How Howlie baked cake and called a spade a spade and never inhaled a Classic. How Sreemoyee slapped my bum. How Suki called her boyfriend her baby. (And how Bandy was always dandy :P)How Sanjukta forgave me despite me not returning her french khata for days, and how awed I felt when she zoomed around in her "big cars." When she broke up, it became "big car"... :P Sion's red shirt, and Diyasreedi's li'l jaunts and Satra's amazing bari and string of ahem, well nevermind. And this and that and this and mostly...well now the important part...

Yesterday I received a medal which maybe I didn't even really deserve. This medal business is always dicey to begin with, and my friends-Nandita and Prayag-could easily have received it as well, and really, it didn't make much of a difference at all. My parents came in the morning and they were in a bit of a hurry and they went away after this, without even waiting to meet me and/or take a picture. I guess it didn't strike them that I have grown up and do not feel ashamed to meet my parents in the educational institute I study in. Anyway so they left, and I waited and waited to receive the degree scroll. We queued up in line. It was the fag end of the afternoon, who would even clap for us? So we decided to cheer ourselves. The entire class.

Amlanda, our beloved Head, came to call out our names. My name was announced. There was a cheer. OK, a resounding cheer. I was so amazed that I almost fell off the dias. Tears welled up in my eyes but of course, well, I laughed. Then Nandita's name was announced. I hadn't even left the stage yet but I turned around and started clapping. Amlanda gave me the closest thing to a glare and I hurriedly left the stage.

Then the fun began. We cheered as every name was announced, and it was the happiest moment of my life. We realized vaguely how significant it was for each of us-the closing of a decisive chapter in our lives. We respected that, we loved the memories we shared (even if those memories could never be relived again)... and every person received a standing ovation. Especially our football hero, Reuben. (Go Manchester United!) No other department had expected this, and by gad, everyone was surprised, and Amlanda laughingly asked us to chup!

We poured outside for the group photos. But I sneaked in to relive a little portion of my memories. N.D. was receiving his degree scroll. I missed quite a few of the group photos as a result. I remembered how we started going out after knowing each other for a week or so. It was a bit absurd, we must have been really desperate. We were nothing alike; he would spout philosophy like a most boring old man, and I would listen open-mouthed. And his sense of humour was non-existent while I thought I had a sense of humour. (I don't, I am terribly inane.) Nilanjan Das was rumoured to be sattvik and I was enamoured of him. I was ready to renounce mod, maagee and mangsho for him- but alas, I later discovered the fraud liked all three. :P Especially alcohol, which he strongly condemned. How much older and long-suffering you looked yesterday Baudolino. It was so strange to think: two years. I am proud of your many accomplishments. I know you will succeed in every philosophical pie that you put your finger in. It is one thing to command respect and awe, but isn't it a greater thing to command love?

I should not have given up poetry. This was my mistake. I must write, I am not an obscene machine. Yesterday as I felt the cold winter sun and the palpable love, as I looked for some people who eluded me and with whom I desperately wanted to take a few pictures, as N.D. and I stared unconvincingly into each other's eyes for Bandy's camera, I felt that I was neither penseur nor poser. I had become a posy in my own life, a wilting posy. I need control and decisiveness, and I think I need love, but you can't command love, can you? My parents would obviously clap for me, but when I heard the cheers and when I received the hugs and claps and whistles when we stood there-friends and non-friends - I realized that I am wrong.

Human attachment is far more complex, beautiful and spontaneous than one can ever possibly realize.

Tuesday, 22 December 2009

lo la lee

You know it's winterish in Cal when your feet are cold without socks. I have taken out my old muffler, you can't tell whether it's blue or green. My hair is in wintercut mode. And I am fatter also. So yes, 15 degrees celsius. I love you.

This, if you don't know, means that May is the cruellest month. My parents got married in May. Seven years later, I hated August-because I was born. Crueller than the cruellest month, summer and all. My mother gorged on strawberries and peaches, and yet I was a sick salmon colour when I was born. And now I am a sick darker salmon-gone-bad. That is perhaps because of the acne I have never much had.

And now, there isn't much to say. I've been 13 all my life, and never had much acne. There is a perpetual discontent-mingled-gruntlement that I suffer from. I do not blame it on my bowels. I blame it on your bowels. Were those pearls that are your teeth?(Bite me.) And I'll rip your teeth and make a lovely bracelet and wear it to supper when I am 91.

I have been 21 for some time. It could have been better, but then you could say it all the time. :)

Friday, 18 December 2009

la di da

I have painted my room
Shades of red and green

My heart is clean.

As for my head.
Along with my former bed
It is dead.

No! Non! I am attending many interesting seminars. Today I heard one Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak from Columbia University come to deliver a talk to The University of Jadavpur. Nobody was asking her a question. Do you wonder why? (She is rude.) She is also condescending. Something about "shivering with delight" at the mention of Foucault. We poor Jadavporeans. Alas, poor Yorick!

The subaltern cannot speak.

P.S. Now the nice things. She is really interesting to listen to, because she is funny and her cleverness sort of compensated for the fact that I will never understand terms like "reproductive heteronormativity". My limit is "organizing principle" or "hermeneutic loop". I wish myself a happy and prosperous life as an academic. :D

Thursday, 10 December 2009


I am surprised

By the lies
In your truthful eyes.

and i forgot
about the snot
but who ever

Sunday, 6 December 2009


I have prided myself on my eloquence
eloquent ahona
aur kuchh kaho naa
but my body hates my mind

o what could be more kind?

my mind has drawn a blank
i wish a cheque would be as blank
so that i could fill it
then i would bill it
but my mind has played a prank

come back, my sweetest mind
knowledge let us together find
i think i could do it
body would boo it
body-i'll woo it

dear body please co-operate
don't hate me, i'm always late
so i've loved you before
and i'll love you some more
as for now, come back
marry my mind
i'm your progeny
illegitimate progeny
a daughter of hate
(please co-operate)

ahona's body really loves ahona's mind, where be you nice people? come back