Because I cannot; so "she" can...

This is for that day when I'll really board a train only to get down at a random station, and then let life take its own course just as it should have let have been long back itself...

She had had a rather late night last night, having walked out of her hut after dinner, after well into an hour into what would be time she’d be off to sleep on any other day. But the night – by her measure of things - was special. 



No, it wasn’t a full moon; in fact, to think of it, full moon nights weren’t exactly her personal favourites, though for a long time she had thought that she ought to think more of full-moon nights than she does. The mere fact that philosophers and poets would always put their bet on full moons than upon the darker ones... But no! Since the time she’d arrived (arrived – yes, that perhaps is the right choice of word?) she’s been falling more in love with the dark, quiet times that some nights offer when they don’t quite let the moon explode into its full blast.

Of December and other good things in life!

“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before its afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness, how the time has flown! How did it get so late so soon?” – had said Dr. Seuss!

A very good morning, dear Toastmasters! Today I am going to talk about the time of the times, the month of the months. I am going to talk about – The Delights of December!

December brings with it sights, sounds and sumptuous tastes that are unique to its nature.

“The Guitar” - A fling that turns into a Lifetime affair, and how!

That she is dying and has something from a month to a two to go, was spelt out to her in a professional, perhaps slightly compassionate and yet disengaged tone. The verdict had been handed out, clearly and unambiguously. She was further explained how she'd first lose her voice, then her sight, and then, decay, not quite slowly.  And yet, as funny as it may sound, this is not but the only verdict she was handed out on the same day. As if she wasn’t yet quite done with! And so, the next two follow: that, she has been "downsized" at her job, and unloved by her lover.

Three verdicts - each unknowing and indifferent to the other two; each, brutal times more due to the other, and yet oblivious; each, each alone, having the power, proved over history, to easily crumble and perish a soul to dust but not before mercilessly tossing it aside into a nothingness safely and surely unknown to one who hasn't walked that road or died those deaths that she was about to, starting that day.

So well, you tell me! What do you do when you’re handed out such a destiny, and you know that they happen, for sure, and all you might do is to accept them and know, tell yourself, in capitals, bold and underlined, that – Very well, girl. This is it!

Know what? Idea!

You… accept.

I wish you a Merry Christmas!

This had also been published in The Huffington Post, Women's Web and MyCity4Kids!!

"How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before its afternoon. December is here before its June. My goodness, how the time has flown! How did it get so late so soon?” – had said Dr. Seuss!

Right! Before you barely get used to the new digits at the end of the date, it’s time to change it again. That time of the year is back. The Time of the times, the Month of the months!

Look! It’s December, again!!

Working Women's Pregnancy - A running thought!

This has also been published in Women's Web and MyCity4Kids!!


I just watched a small video which is being shared widely in social media, which is below:

WATCH THE VIDEO!

And, here's my reaction to the same (I am copy pasting, actually, directly from what I just wrote in the "comment" box of the video, without any edits.) -



I loved, and more loved the fact that somebody thought about it and made it, and yet I cannot but wonder…


Is the only way to prove is to deny your body the changes, the rest it demands, those morning sicknesses and hormonal upheaval... and the only way to women empowerment is just to HAVE TO put up a strong brave face and make sure to be around as if it's all absolutely the same?

The Little Light of My Life...

This post has also been published in World of Moms!

Dhopash's Diaper Days...

*This post is a part of the Pampers #SoftestForBabySkin activity at BlogAdda*


Casually, I was looking up the “Photo” and "Video" folders on my laptop, which is when I stopped upon these. Memories came rushing…

"What is Durga Puja?" - they had asked!

This article has also been published at The Speaking Tree, Youthkiawaaz, WhatsupIndia, Gurgaon Moms and Women's Web!!


Now, strange things happen at times at most habitual moments. Like when they asked you to tell them "something about yourself" at your first job interview, and you looked blank. You did not know, until then, how difficult it could be to be asked to summarise your own self, in precise words and well-formed sentences, conclusively and sufficiently! You do not know where to start, what to carefully keep aside, what is just yours and not for the world to know, and what preciseness of the reply would fit the bill right, that is, to leave your audience engaged and pleased and to still be honest and at it. When confronted with casual curiosity, or even courtesy-calls, on something so damn close to you that you've grown up to belong to it or to be it yourself, it really gets bad. I know I am getting too gibberish for you to keep on reading this piece, especially in a season where you've so much to otherwise, and I duly apologise. Give me a chance to defend.

I'm just back from a very sudden going-total-blank-at-a-most-obvious-question situation at a non-Bong gathering. They casually, only slightly curiously, had just asked me one simple well-meaning question:

"What is Durga Puja?"

Mahalaya - The Homecoming!

Well, it was going to be Devipaksha soon, and so I wanted something nostalgic to the core, something sentimental to its brim. So, I thought and thought, and thought, and then I did what I always do - rob my brother. This time, I robbed him to author the first ever guest post on my blog. So, here's to a happy 200th to myself, and an emotional, nostalgic  few minutes of reading journey to each of you...



Mahalaya, the homecoming

Srijan Sengupta

The Bun in the Oven!!

This has also been published in World of Moms!


I often wonder - now that after four years plus of eventful parenting it all looks like a past as distant as if the rest of my life was not coherent but a past life – as to how did I, we, at all go about it? How did we come at it, at making her? At making our daughter - a blossoming fairytale that she is unfurling every day to be?

5 Ways To Raise Your Kid Gender Neutral

This article has been cross-published at The Huffington Post, YouthkiAwaaz, Mycity4kids and Women's Web.

1. Don’t buy them blue or pink.

The other day, my four year old asked, yet again:– Mum, are you sure?– Sure of what?– That pink is not the colour for girls, and blue for boys?– Yes, dear.

I took her to the balcony as we talked:
– Look at the sky. What colour do you see?
– Blue. Light blue.
– Now tell me, is the sky there only for boys? Does it shine or rain only for them and not us?
– No!

Epitaph / এপিটাফ

- তুমি সুখ উপলব্ধি করেছ?

- করেছি তো।

- সত্যি বলছ?

- সত্যিই!

- তাহলে বলো, কেমন সে অনুভূতি? কেমন, সুখ?

Rainbow...

Fought, made up,

Looked away, 

Stole a gaze.

Loved, laboured, 

And lost again,
Was that a poetry,

Or, just a maze?

Keep our trust, Jasleen Kaur.

A rather hastily written out outburst. But I needed to...

With this case of Jasleen Kaur, social media has got its new high. Every morning, the timeline floods with half a dozen articles on either side of the motion. The ones supporting Jasleen Kaur uproar with how women have always been taking it lying down and how now the time has come that we speak up. The other stream cries out on how easy it has got to pose as a victim and gather public sentiment. Many a kangaroo courts hop around us, which, to my mind, aren’t any different than khaap panchayats we read about in daily news. We all seem to know what’s right, we all seem to know the answer, and we all seem to be quite ready to execute what we think is the justice. I wish!

Re-United at the Sea...

This has also been published in Women's Web.



Days are long, bright and sunny -

Silver of water, blue of shades,

Vastness of the world at large -

The commerce, the many trades…

A one fine coward morning!

There's this one fine morning, there's this one fine pile of whatsapp messages on muted groups that waited, here's this not finding time or energy to check them anytime before noon.

My old school friends group - one random out-of-ordinary message - read like this:

- "Do you remember that girl called X who used to be our junior, used to date Y, used to travel by school bus route N?"
- Erm, not quite! Why?
- Well, she passed away last night.
- Oh! Sad, indeed. What had happened?
- Fever.
- Fever?
- Yeah. Swine Flu perhaps. Can't say"
- Hm. RIP.

Thus had ended the trail of messages and to be honest, the traces left the minds of most pretty soon as well.

এমন দেশটি কোথাও খুঁজে পাবে নাকো তুমি...

বাংলাদেশ নিয়ে, কেন জানিনা, চিরকালই মনের মধ্যে একটা ফ্যান্টাসি ছিল। তার একটা কারণ সম্ভবত ছোটবেলা থেকে পাড়ায় ক্লাবে বা আড্ডায় ওই বাঙ্গাল-ঘটি, ইস্টবেঙ্গল-মোহনবাগান, ইলিশ-চিংড়ি বা পদ্মা-গঙ্গা (প্রাকৃতিক সৌন্দর্য নয়, ইলিশের স্বাদ বিষয়ক) নিয়ে নিয়মিত খুনসুটি আর ঝগড়াঝাঁটি। আর তাছাড়া বয়স্ক লোকজন কখনো জিগ্যেস করলে নিয়মমাফিক চেনা উত্তরটা দিয়ে দেওয়া, যে হ্যাঁ, আমার বাবা মা দু'পক্ষই আদতে ও'দেশের, আর অতঃপর "ওদেশের কোথায়?"-এর উত্তরে হেথায় ও সেথায়, ইত্যাদি।

বাংলাদেশ ছুঁয়ে দেখিনি কোনদিন। টাকি থেকে নদীর ধারে রেলিং ধরে দাঁড়িয়ে ইছামতী দেখেছি বড়জোর, আর শুনেছি ওপারেই নাকি বাংলাদেশ। এই অবধিই আমার দৌড় আটকে থেকেছে। 

আজকের খবরে অভিজিৎ মৃত। কালকের খবরে অভিজিৎ মৃত্যুঞ্জয় হয়ে উঠুক!

অভিজিত রায়, একজন মার্কিন নিবাসী বাঙালী লেখক, এক “মুক্ত-মনা” চিন্তাধারার লেখক এবং প্রতিষ্ঠাতা, গত ২৬-শে ফেব্রুয়ারি সন্ধ্যেবেলা, অর্থাৎ আজ থেকে ঠিক তিনদিন আগে, বাংলাদেশের একুশে বইমেলা থেকে পায়ে হেঁটে নিজের বাড়ি ফেরার পথে ঢাকা বিশ্ববিদ্যালয়ের ক্যাম্পাস এবং নিকটবর্তী পুলিশ স্টেশনের থেকে ঢিল ছোঁড়া দুরত্বে, জনসমক্ষে চপার দিয়ে কুপিয়ে খুন হয়েছেন। তাঁর স্ত্রী রাফিদা আহমেদ বন্যা , যিনি যেটুকু পরিচয় সোশ্যাল মিডিয়ায় ভেসে আসছে তার পরিপ্রেক্ষিতে বলতে গেলে সার্থকঅর্থেই অভিজিৎ বাবুর সহধর্মিণী, তিনি প্রাণে বেঁচে গেছেন কিন্তু গুরুতর আহত।

Another Woman - Woody Allen - random thoughts

(Non-disclaimer: There are hardly any spoilers in this piece of discussion.)

This is common if I have to guess; you see that woman, typically older than you are - on the street, in the television, or at a party – and from the way she dresses, walks, talks and carries herself, you wish fleetingly that when you’re of that age, you’d like to age like her.

Epitaph

- তুমি সুখ উপলব্ধি করেছ?

- করেছি তো।

- সত্যি বলছ?