Of Being 23

My 23rd year on this planet has been by far the most exciting and eventful year of my life. I'm no longer 23, however, it shall remain memorable forever. Mostly cause never ever has so much happened in one year, nor has life lent so much gyaan in one year. So much so that I wish every year of my youth is like being 23 (Youth lasts till 35 I'm told by a very reliable 40 year old).

Things I did/gyaan I gained when I was 23:
1. I found peace in an environment I despised. I know I can find peace anywhere.
2. I tried LSD. Best thing I ever did.
3. I traveled alone for the first time. To places I had not known to exist.
4. I watched Soulmate live. Twice.
5. I went to Bhutan.
6. I realized that traveling with women can be fun. Also that not all women are vexatious.
7. I realized that a rational man does not have unlimited wants. Rather it is irrational to have unlimited wants.
8. I saw more stars in the sky than I'd ever seen before (or after till date). Thrumshingla Pass.
9. I nearly failed out of college.
10. I managed to graduate.
11. I chose to believe in God.
12. I experienced the bliss of unemployment.
13. I got a job on my own terms.
14. I got sober (Realized that prolonged sobriety leads to being horny).
15. I had my first one night stand (and one day stand - separate occasions) and it all was good.
15. I have gone 5 months without taking a single day off. Miracle considering my college attendance till just a few months back.
16. I have lived, enough to know that I'm not living anymore but rather going through the motions.
17. But now I have a plan. Another first for me.

Graphic Designer Alert!! (There's a new kid on the block)

A friend recently chose to quit his job and go freelance. He's a graphic designer, though not formally trained, he has considerable experience as a designer for his age . I know him well and know that he's good at expressing a sense of beauty in print.

So here's giving a little push to a young start-up. Anyone interested/requiring graphic design work can find him here. All relevant details are available therein.

Cheers.

Of Reality

Last evening I watched Celina Jaitley get hypnotized on television, in what was apparently a live recording. Noting my surprise my mum informed me that many television stars were getting themselves hypnotized on this new show.

Celina discussed her dog, dog's death, boyfriend, and how she wants to leave and go to God ...with her eyes fluttering and voice quivering for as long as I watched.

Meanwhile Robbie Williams released an album last month. I used to like Robbie as a kid. Especially till Escapology I think.

It is becoming increasingly difficult to wake up in the mornings. And I hate the fact that I don't have any holidays.

For once in my life I know what I don't want to do AND what I do want to do. Unfortunately life isn't as simple as what I want or don't want anymore. Not if you're not alone.

Of Darkness

There are places in every city where the unseen partake of activities that ought to remain unseen. For example deserted parks, river banks or a lakeside, cemeteries, marketplaces where you get fake/smuggled goods and even places of worship. Oh and railway tracks, always railway tracks, especially nearby the local stations.

A whole new world emerges after sunset. It is where the peddlers hang out, the cheaper whores whistle at cabbies, junkies smoke and chase, and gay men suck dick. There is anonymity and definite carved out spaces for all giving vent to their respective natures. All seeking a moment of sinful comfort or simply earning livelihood.

A certain kind of all, for despite the difference of activities they have something in common. Go figure what but know that those who don’t belong, stand out visibly. It’s all in the open, really. But no one watches out for it. Hence no one really sees it. Kinda becomes like I can see you, but you can’t see me. Why? Cause you don’t even know I’m here, that’s why.

And it all transpires under the watchful gaze of the night away from the eyes of the clean cut kid who’s been to college too.

It gets real lonely in a city sometimes. And it isn’t the same as being alone. I miss being alone.

It can be unnerving hearing a voice extremely familiar, yet being unable to put a face or a name to it.

My father hails from Agartala, Tripura where the paternal half of my family still owns considerable estates/property which have been subjected to various litigations and family drama. However, in the good old days when I still used to wear shorts to school (we wore trousers from 8th Std. onwards), my father used to take me to our home in Agartala atleast once every year. It was there that I had the first taste of having siblings for there were cousins all around. In fact there were 14 of us in all. Several of the older ones were in hostels and colleges across the country and hence you only heard of them. But we, the younger ones, were present in enough numbers to bring down the house as they say. It would be like the cousins already residing in Agartala would be awaiting my arrival for then they could play and sometimes even bunk school for well you only got to see me once a year. And in any case the rest of the families would be busy with my Mom and Dad. My Dad is a superstar in my clan (don’t ask) and my mom is the only city girl bahu in the family and hence subject to a lot of attention. So I was special cause I was from Calcutta (which is like New York to a kid from Agartala in those days) and my parent’s kid and we had a car and all of that (in those days Agartala had electricity for a grand total of 5 hours a day, and cycles were a young middle class college graduates dream - something like having a bike in the city - and there was no cable) and also cause I got gifts for everyone. In fact I'd be given a list over the telephone of what to bring for everyone. Now of course my parents did all the purchasing and hence a lot of demands weren’t met cause they weren’t chotoder jineesh (stuff for kids) but no one really cared as long as they got something. We were kids alright.

The part of the house we stayed in was inhabited by my father’s immediate elder sister (he has five) and her family comprising her husband and two daughters. The younger daughter Munai and I were less than a year apart, she being older. And since my pre-puberty days till sometime after that, we were the best of friends. I remember she would get into all sorts of trouble because I would go out of my way and be a pest to the neighbours and everyone in general, and more often than not, she would be my only companion despite knowing that she would be solely held responsible by my aunt for her and my acts cumulatively. She didn’t seem to care though. The other cousins, including the male ones were a bunch of pussies compared to her. We bought eggs and chucked them into neighbour’s houses through open windows, sat scared out of our wits inside the loo at the farthest end of the pond on our land in the middle of the night waiting for ghosts, got caught and slapped for it by our worried parents who had been searching for half an hour, stole mangoes from the neighbour’s forests (well she did cause I couldn’t climb the trees), and even shat on an evil uncles brand new Bajaj Chetak (well I did, cause she sometimes remembered that she was a lady, and no she wasn't looking, she was the outpost).

She took a lot of beatings for me. But it was almost like a price we both knew she had to pay, and well we were gonna do what we were gonna do anyway, so it didn’t really matter. To her or me. Suddenly now it does, to me.

My father had to return to Agartala last night due to an emergency. Later in the night I got a call from an Agartala landline and there was a girl on the other end. And it was that voice. I knew the voice, but had no fucking idea who it was, except that it was someone I knew very well.

We stopped going to Agartala sometime during my 7th/8th Stds. Munai and I gradually lost touch. I even forgot about her. In the middle I would hear sometimes my father mention that she had graduated from school or that she chose to do a Bachelor’s in English Literature, that she refused to get married, that she tried to get into Jadavpur University for her MA but her father wouldn’t allow it, that she was a teacher in a high school in Agartala. That she’d grown very tall and very quiet.

I spoke to her last night for barely five minutes. We didn’t bother exchanging pleasantries cause well we couldn't recognize each other for a while. She informed me that my father couldn’t get in touch with me cause there was network problem and that she would take a message if I had one. I didn’t. I asked her how she was and she said she was fine, and there was just a little catch to her voice, like she didn’t expect me to ask. Or thats how it seemed to me. She didn’t ask how I was. It had been over 10 years since we last spoke.

Last night a lot of memories came back to me. Memories that were put aside to the immense restlessness of growing up, and perhaps to hormones. Now I can’t stop thinking about her, about our home in Agartala, the way things used to be and the way she spoke last night.

Of Ataraxia

Finally figured out a word for what I’ve always aspired towards. Achieved too for a short time. Discovered it while watching Lucky Number Slevin for the second/third?!? time.

Now on the other side of the fence and looking back, I feel we had to be innocently out of our fucking minds to have been like that. No regrets though. Good times. Didn’t have a word for the way I felt then. Its good to have a word for a particular feeling. Then again there wouldn’t be any poetry if there were words for all feelings.

Ataraxia. Where have you gone babeh?

Blah Blah Blah

Winter in Calcutta is like one of those albums that have withstood the test of age for an individual. The ones which are played when nothing in particular comes to mind. They're always secure, warm and often nostalgic. I'm glad its winter now. The season seems to be the only thing beautiful enough to be distracting me from my current obsession that is MYSELF.

And its always been beautiful, especially during the evenings.

Watched a lot of films this weekend. First up was Ninja Assassin. There are bad films and then there are films which are so bad that they're awesome!! NA falls in the latter category for me. Absolutely brilliant. Loved the fight sequences and the painful way in which they tried to show the emotional turmoil of the hero's early years. Was non-stop action and comedy. Plus I'm a sucker for swords and other sharp objects being used as weapons, especially against the gun touting white man.

And this one had a chain-sickle. Too-fucking-cool.

It doesn't compare to Ong Bak though. I watched the second part of the trilogy and was mesmerized. Tony Jaa is the best. And it literally kicks ass of all high budget hollywood action films due to the sheer intensity of the violence it reveals. Have a newfound admiration for Muay Thai. Must get me hands on the other Ong Baks.

I also watched The Dog Problem on TV because I had nothing better to do. Loved it. Its rare to find comedy acts that make you laugh at life and not at cheap jokes. Want to watch this one again without the intervention of dad wanting to watch the headlines every ten minutes.

Last but not the least Anari No.1. Govinda Rocks. Period.

No winter is complete without the consumption of dark rum in copious amounts. Mission was accomplished last Saturday wherein the frivolity of promises I make to myself was revealed yet again. I'd promised myself not to drink beyond 3 pegs, but then ...I lost count. But it felt good. Still I have decided not to partake liquor in any form anymore.

Atleast till Christmas.

Cheers.