Totally random.

I am beginning to feel guilty for not posting here frequently even after claiming satisfaction at owning a page on the World Wide Web.My life is uneventful.Besides nobody reads my blogs naturally because I never read theirs, because I am hardly ever online from my dysfunctional PC and my humble mobile is ill-equipped for blogging.I am not a part of any literary circle which I am sure does help people to write because one is always curious about the comments on the literary exegesis or even random write-ups.Also,none of my friends,I gather,blog anymore.So I am pretty forlorn on the web sphere.But then again it's a relief that nobody reads me because attention makes me feel fuzzy.It truly does.

Since nobody reads me I can't resist the temptation of divulging sundry details of my uneventful life.

Presently my only discernible activity is sitting.And reading occasionally.That does not make me hopeful about my future since I have an exam in few days.However,I must admit that I am having the time of my life.Besides hobbling around at home I also cook sometimes because I enjoy cooking.I associate cooking with strength because it takes a lot of courage to cook with considerable amount of uncertainty.I never follow instructions and I follow my instincts while adding spices etc.My study room was no less than a pandemonium at hell until recently but I felt accomplished after cleaning it notwithstanding the backache left in its wake.I don't have pets and I never get bored because every now and then I invent new ways to amuse myself.I can sit staring vacantly at the window sill or sniff the curious tang in the summer wind that blows mysteriously without whisking off leaves or small buds.Its a sad excuse for a wind.I see children whimpering and trailing after their mothers while returning from schools in the afternoon and an occasional baby wobbling its head and drooling in the mother's lap.I enjoy watching kids,more precisely babies.The way they wobble their heads and clasp the free end of their mothers' sarees in small fists amuses me.My boyfriend says I am senile and lazy and that unlike others my age I am not 'active' or sociable.However he refuses to see I partake in these little day-to-day activities with great joy and I am pretty stoked at the end of the day.I enjoyed writing this.

That's my desk with the book I am currently reading and my desktop on it.
Yeah right I am jobless. :/

Gah!

I like everything that's ordinary.
So if you're extraordinary please make a hasty exit from my life because you make me feel fuzzy and that hurts my head.And you will become my beloved if you travel by local trains,eat chine badam,crunching them noisily,do not study and weigh at least 60kgs.

Pity.

In the second week of February 2012 , as the whole world celebrated the week dedicated to ‘love’ by exchanging heartfelt greetings with their loved ones and had immense ‘fun’ culminating in reckless drinking and PDAs and so on, a forlorn woman tried having her share of deserved fun at a local bar in Kolkata. Later she was raped in a moving car, at gunpoint.

Without much hope, she courageously reported the incident to policemen at a nearby police station. They jeered at her in return and offered her a night of ‘fun’ at Tantra because after all, it was Valentine’s Day. The chief minister, a woman herself and the custodian of a ‘progressive’ state, alleged that the incident had been ‘contrived’ to malign her party. This shocked many and made them wonder how the same woman who waited outside Jyoti Basu’s office with a deaf and dumb rape victim and refused to budge until justice be adjudicated, could say something so illogical in such a grave moment of crisis.

This recent rape incident reminded me of this one debate I had participated in back in school. My argument demanded frequent use of the term ‘rape’ and I clearly remember that I was asked to replace it with the phrase ‘trespassing on women’s chastity’. Of course it made my speech unnecessarily long-drawn but ‘safe’ and ‘moral’. I lost. I lost my argument.

Returning to the case at hand, what I personally fail to understand is how people and the custodians of law distort the term ‘rape’ and do not deal with it professionally. What is rape then? Of the myriad interpretations, one thing might I add is settled-it is definitely immoral. “How could a separated mother of two , Anglo-Indian , go to a bar at the wee hours of the night and drink?”, “ What was ‘she’ doing there?” are some of the questions raised by the custodians of law and our ‘celebrated’ chief minister, Mamata Banerjee. It is interesting to note how social aspects which are otherwise irrelevant to the case are brought in and how they distort the case further- Marital status, caste, interests. In India, it is observed that women who transgress the roles they are expected to play in the society are always considered immoral. It is indeed a shocking fact given that our country, particularly our state, is believed to be progressive and all that. Rape, we all must realize is basically a crime. Like murder, like larceny, it’s a crime and the culprits must be penalized like what every law, in every other country demands.

I salute the victim for her indomitable courage and congratulate Damayanti Sen and her team for identifying the hooligans .Apparently, the case seems to have been solved but what remains unsolved and shall remain unsolved is the deep-rooted problem of prejudice that makes one’s will to fight and the law skeletal.

Who cares.

I have been feeling pretty ordinary lately,so much so that I feel insignificant,invaluable.Not that I really have clear reasons for feeling such a thing. But I do feel ordinary. Yes I have in an earlier post celebrated the idea of ordinariness but what I feel now,at this very minute while randomly rambling again,is different. You see it is the kind of ordinariness that belittles its celebrated namesake. It is that one feeling that makes you feel you are nobody...

Are we God?

I think I am pretty stoked about the ways of the world. I think the only change aka ‘poriborton’ which is so strong a word these days that it could replace the former and its synonyms in the English Dictionary.I think the only change needed is increasing the size of the first page of the newspapers so that they can accommodate more news.There’s so much that’s happened in the past month that left me totally numb.I am numbed by the horror left in the wake of the blasts,the trainwrecks,seeing desperate policemen and armymen pulling out wrenched limbs and bodies of innocent people.But mostly I am numbed by the helplessness left in its wake too.I don’t care if it sounds juvenile to remark this way but why can we not donate happiness?You know like you push a syringe and draw some happiness out of us fortunate people and push it into their hearts? These people that started an ordinary day smiling at the glint of sunshine sent through their windows at one moment, and at the other lying on a pool of blood with bloodshot eyes and pale faces…

There’s this cosmic question I throw at you-Do we live or do we merely survive? Do we fear mortality or is it this indescribable fear of  living amidst mortals that can take your life? Is this the beginning of the suspected end? If God made us in his own image then are we killing God? Are we God?

Derailed Kalka Mail.

A Policeman attends to an injured child.Mumbai blast 2011.

Mumbai Blast 2011.

Bleh.

Moment of the day-I woke up to a glint of light sent through the ventilator on the wall.

Green gung-ho.

The world seems to have lost its selfish bone and suddenly everybody is gung-ho about taking on the green war with pollution.Last week while completing my cousin's Environmental Science project I realised people do take a break from reading the mumbo-jumbo on newspapers,from the occasional rapes,murders,larceny,etc,lofty movements from gandhi look alikes,certain slut walks(Come on! As long as men have their special pair,and we have ours,all's trivial.Wait till we evolve!),2G scam(Have it your way I say.Ionosphere will be replaced by your car gas anyway!),from movies with slangs that reinstate how gross a race we really are,etc etc and show off their green fingers.Yes yes,they are working at maintaining green zones all over the world with anonymity and by celebrating green days with grandeur.


No I won't serve you by giving you more feed on films and nudity. Get green now. Get serious.


Since green demands seriousness,I have made a serious observation. One of the projects in the assignment was urging students to take on competitive gardening. Now of course the project is only limited to copying it down for your cousin,however I realised how most women in our locality,including my mother,really actually follow it.Competitive gardening begins everyday at five in the evening and lasts more than an hour.All the women armed with spray pipes spray water on the tender leaves and buds with one hand.They balance the stoop with the other hand on the waist and take a quick glance at each others work out of the corner of their eyes.They discuss prices of saplings,the mali's fee,the manure that can make you sick in your dreams,etc.The costlier,the better and the one who gets the costliest of suchlikes does an inward jig with pride and becomes the talk of the town :P. My mother is seriously hungover by her gardening paraphernalia,which I must admit is pretty,cost the pater a fortune though,but sure is pretty.My favorite part is ONLY the touch-me-nots.How I love teasing my touch-me-nots!Therefore,slut or no slut,2G or 3G,D K Bose or the reverse,please find your little green zone and save our green buddies.

My mother's babies.I wrote this because I love my mother,her garden and my sedentary life.