In love...with a brain eater

“I did what I could…what else could I have done…may be nothing.” Manish, a twenty six years old boy with blue eyes, was staring at the mirror. He was both furious and sad. His hair was untouched since countless weeks, his cloths were untidy and face was pale. The dark circles just below his blue eyes were indicating his irregular sleeping habits. Apart from it, his face was hidden under the uncontrolled growth of his beard. His otherwise robust body had become lean and starved.

“It is hard for you I know…”He contin

ued talking with the half broken mirror, “It is hard to forget her infectious smile and unexplainable warmth. It is hard to forget the depth of her incredibly beautiful eyes and it is hard to forget her divine voice which used to make you high without any weed whatsoever.”

He looked at the little digital watch tied on his wrist. His breath was becoming heavier and tears had started to gather in his eyes, ready to pop out any second from those rusty corners of the eyes. He looked at the watch again and wiped the saline water with the sleeves his shirt. Meanwhile various thoughts kept on tumbling one after another and his heart continued to pound hard in his ears.

For outer world it was a mundane day. He could hear the peddlers shouting about different things they were trying to sell and the sound of car engines getting started, as the office going people made their way to the parking.

“She was one crazy bitch, grown up in UP with high ambitions and rather twisted ways to accomplish the things. One of the most admired and brilliant student of all time. She was a scholar…but I don’t know why she went to South Africa and brought this fucking shit with her. This is the end of her agony.”

He turned towards the bathroom to take bath. While bathing he suddenly started singing a very old song from the film ‘Anand’.

“Zindagi kaisi hai paheli haye…..”

He sang passionately, but none of the wordings or the tune was correct, however finally, his voice caught some nodes and, he left the bathroom. He felt as though he was going to do something horrendous. But technically, he had just been singing a great song in a lame voice. That doesn’t seem much of a crime, does it?

He went again to the mirror and picked up the razor lying near the wash-basin. He checked the blade and started shaving off his beard. Soon his face reappeared from a long banishment under the dark, thick beard. He combed his hairs and headed towards the bedroom. He took out and threw a pair of fine shirts and neat pants from his closet on his bed. After thinking vividly about the color combinations and matches, he took a pair and started to get dress. Once he was ready, he went near the closet and quickly kept something inside his pants pocket.

He saw a glimpse of himself in the mirror and murmured, “I wish you could say for the final time that you knew I was in love with you; a memory you could recall and say that you liked sitting by the stairs of the apartment in stealth with me. You and me, with our hot cups of tea and our warm bodies in Deadly December…I just wish.”

He moved into the inner store room. The room was as dark as the black hole. The sun-rays were abandoned outside but restricted from there. The smell of blood and rotten flesh was possessed deep down the walls of that room. There was torn moss in this air, fallible wisps of death and gore. He stepped into the room quietly, throwing a quick smile at nobody and stood near the door. He switched on the light.

“Hi, honey,” he smiled, stretching on a cheery face as he approached her. His neck looked long and bare in the absence of his top shirt button. It made the scar that ran across his throat more prominent.

There was a girl tied in the chains and bars. The chains were mounted on the wall, giving the girl a very limited movement area. There were pieces of flesh and blots of blood all over the room. Little maggots had already made that room their paradise. Most of them were feeding on the pieces of flesh and a few daring ones were trying to feed upon the girl’s flesh, the girl, who was apparently alive.

“How are you today? The scattered meat pieces are suggesting me that you didn’t have your breakfast properly…why is that so? Are you trying to break my heart?”

There was no response from the girl. She was constantly busy in killing the moving maggots.

“Am I looking good today?” He continued, “Today your agony will end. I have decided to end your obsession…do you hear me Manisha?”

Suddenly the girl looked at Manish. Her face was sunken in, eyes unfocused and completely white. Her mouth twitched and drooled as if craving for something, anything, which even sounds like flesh, meat or blood. The smell of her rotting face was complementing the aroma of the room. Her nails were dark and bloody, but no blood was dripping from them.

“Your eyes are still deep…and your lips red like rose petals.” Manish glared at her with love in his eyes.

Love is complicated. Once a wise man said that it perhaps does not happens with the person but the image. But here the original image of the girl was long gone. She was nothing now but a pile of rotten flesh moving on the structure of bones but still Manish was in love with her.  

“I wish you would not have gone to SA for the research of the epidemic…I just wish. You brought that virus here with you. I have seen you transforming into a flesh eater cannibal from a sophisticated girl…but I told no one about this. As you lost control over you, I fed you everything I could.”

He unbuttoned the shirt and moved a bit near to the girl. His shoulders were badly injured, as if, flesh was cut from there. The blood stains were completely dried up and clotted.

“See, I even fed you my own flesh. But now I am too finding it hard to keep my mental balance going. The virus inside you is making me sick too. I am slowly feeling the thirst of blood and hunger of flesh. But I will not allow it to control me anymore.”

He stood just outside the reach of the girl. He took a pistol out of his pocket. It was black with a sticker of a heart pierced with an arrow pasted on the grip frame. He unlocked the safety grip and checked the magazine.

He did love himself because people who do not love themselves can only adore others, because adoration is making someone else big and us small. They can only desire others, because desire comes out of a sense of inner incompleteness, which demands to be filled. But they cannot love others, because love is an affirmation of the living and growing being in all of us. He loved this girl…unconditionally.

“I love you.”

He took a deep breath and looked at the roof of the house. His eyes started swimming in emptiness and his brain became incapable to think. He left his body to fall on his knees and drops of tears rolled one after another from his eyes. He raised his hand with the pistol and aimed at the girl. He opened his mouth to say something but words didn’t support him. A small amount of saliva slipped from his mouth to the neat shirt. With a silent scream he shot a bullet which pierced the head of the girl. The slash of blood oozed out of her head and within a second, another bullet was shot from the same pistol, the target was different, it was Manish himself. He killed himself.

The next morning a suicide note was found in the room addressing his parents.

‘I didn’t want it to happen…but it happened. It wasn’t that hard. I felt no pain as love had made me numb already.’

 

      

  

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A Day With Single Mother

“You know how much I liked you when were in college, you were agile and energetic. I never thought that you will choose writing as your career; it is so damn slow…you know what I mean…right? I thought you will join army…I wanted to meet you when your book was published but never knew where you were.”
She poured the tea in two cups and slowly kept the kettle near the wash basin. She wiped the base of the cups with her ‘duppatta’ and kept the cups in a small plate and then the plate in a big tray.
“And all of a sudden, you decided to show up today. So, how is all?”
She carried the tray and kept it on a stool. The stool was interesting. Names of different people written all over it with pen and I could also see heart made by a red pen with an arrow piecing across it (I still wonder that how that brutality can represent a message of ‘I love you’). That stool perhaps belonged to some school which was most probably was sold to a scrap dealer and then to a second hand furniture dealer and finally was here.
“Well, so far it is good. The sale of book is picking up slowly. I got your address from Pankaj. What’s up with you?”
She picked up the cup of tea and handed over it to me, as if wanted to tell me not to question her about anything.
“As if you don’t know.”
“What?”
“Mr. Sharma, you could be an author but you are not a good liar. I can see in your eyes that you know everything and perhaps that’s the reason why you decided to meet me. And secondly I can’t believe that Pankaj didn’t tell you anything?”
I didn’t know that she could read my eyes. I took a sip of tea and swallowed a huge amount of saliva which was stuck in my throat. I looked at her. She, with her usual naughty smile and witty eyes, was gazing at me.
“What happened?”
“He left me…asked for divorce…I gave him.”
Nandita Mukherjee, one of the most juvenile girls of my college, was sitting in front of me with anguish in her eyes and disgust in her words. I remember the days when she used to pick her valentine amongst as many as 15 boys to choose from. It used to be controversies and fights over her decision then, and she used to say pompously that she had every right to choose or reject whomever she wanted. She used to have very elaborated logical reason behind it. And now, after almost 6 years, she is divorced, and she couldn’t manage even 10 words to say about it.
“Chandan…hello…”
“Ah! I am sorry. I should not ask this to you at all…this is none of my business.”
“Right…your wish.”
“Ya…amm…however, I know almost everything already…Pankaj told me.”
“Yeah…that asshole…”
“Why you say so?”
“Just like that…did he also tell you that he wanted to sleep with me to fulfill my sexual needs…how substantial…”
“What…no…”
“I hope you are not here for the same reasons…are you?”
“O…no…why would you think that…it’s so awful.”
“What?...sleeping with me?”
“No…”
“No?”
“I…mean yes. Ok, just let it go. Why are we even talking about it? Do you think I am such a man?”
“Well, I have been hearing to such countless proposals since Vivek left me with a 4 years old kid. Everybody thinks that a single mother needs it…and there are no strings attached as well.”
She took the last sip of tea and gently placed the cup on the small plate.
“Where is Arya?”
“School.”
“You work…right?”
“Yeah…BPO stuff…you need to keep yourself alive…don’t you? I took leave though…exclusively for you.”

She smiled again. I was not able to decide whether she was already flirting with me or it was a general friend’s stuff. Had she been single and not married, I would have termed it as leg-pulling. But her current situation made differences in my thought…I could not understand why.

mother

“Oh! Thanks…By the way, what about your parents?
“What about them…they live in Banaras…I stayed with them for a month and half but they were too embarrassed due to me…a young girl, divorced, then the usual character assassination by small town public. I wonder why people never blame the man for it.”
“Even if they do, would that be of any good?”
“Nah!...just a sadistic satisfaction.”
She took the cups to the wash-basin and poured some water in both cups from the tap. She did the same with some other utensils. While doing it, her ‘duppatta’ slipped from her shoulder, revealing her v-neck suit. Her well build cleavage made me feel their presence. I had seen her cleavage or may be something more than that, as many as thousand times but today it was more attractive. I didn’t know whether her relationship status had anything to do with it.
“So, did you get any share from your husband…I mean any monitory help?”
“Are you researching on me and trying to make a story?”
“No..”
“You should…” She smiled…same familiar naughty smile.

“I will definitely think about it.”

“Ya…that thinking…it never gets completed, anyways, will you have breakfast?”

“Amm, no I guess, I need to travel a lot.”

“So, having no breakfast will shorten your traveling distance, isn’t it?”

I looked at her in anxiety; she was busy in arranging her hair. She grabbed her hair from front and made a knot in such a manner that it seemed mounted on her head. It was pleasant to see how she was trying to keep her body covered with the ‘dupatta’, unlike old days when she used to flaunt her assets. My gaze traveled from her breasts to her face and back at her breast.

“What?” Her voice was a bit rigid than all of her other sentences.

“Nothing”

“So, will you have breakfast?”

“I can”

“Ok”

I know I was a stupid in conversation but atleast I was not asking her about her Facebook, Twitter, Google+, Instagram or Whatsapp accounts. She stood up and went straight to the kitchen which was attached with the living room. I remember that the kitchen used to be a very discreet place for ladies. The food and other edible items kind of used to appear in the living room directly, no guest would know where exactly the kitchen is? It was a private place for ladies. If there is something they want to laugh about or cry upon, the kitchen used to be the perfect place for that.

Now I mostly see kitchen attached with the living room with no privacy at all. The ladies can cook and chat with the guest sitting the living room. I think it has more to do with the contagious culture of nuclear family. The guest is often known to both husband and wife and ladies don’t need to disappear in kitchen.

“So, what would you like to have Mr. Sharma, Bread…Maggie…or chapattis?

“Anything would work I guess.”

“You have not changed at least in this case…from the canteen of our college to here, you are never sure that what exactly you want to have. Anyways I am making sandwiches for you.”

I smiled.

The bell rang and after a few seconds of silence, Nandi rushed to the door.

“I am going to kill these rascals, I know they are kids who ring the bell and run away.”

She was right. There was no one at the door. She slammed the door and rushed towards me.

“Come…”

She took me to the windows and pointed towards the gate of the apartment. I tried to see what she wanted me to see, but I could figure out nothing. Usual moving cars, some playing kids, few office going people, a hawker fighting with the guard to get in. All seem ok to me.

“What exactly should I look upon?”     

“You see that middle aged man, with a black bag on his shoulder?”

“Yes”

“He is the man who rings the bell almost every day.”

“How you know? You said they are kids who do this.”

“About kids…just like that…I saw this person twice doing the same from the magic eye I have on the door. He does it and walks away.”

“So, why don’t you say anything to him?”

“He wants me to say him something…stupid. He wants to talk with me…thharki budha.”

I looked at her with hint of amazement in my eyes while she continued.

“I don’t know…from class 6 to now…I have seen people thinking just one thing for me…Chandan, you are a writer, can you explain what possibly be the reason of such thinking? Being girl is bad…being a girl without father is even worse and being a single mother is atrocious. Sucks…I feel suffocated here. Everybody wants to know that what I do for our sexual life? What the fuck man, let’s just say that I don’t get time for this and I am too busy looking after my kid and other responsibilities.”

“I am sorry about all these, but you need to get out and fight if you want to stop this.”

“Nah, I don’t need any trouble on this…I don’t want somebody threatening about my son or something else…I think I will pass on this.”

“It will only increase the daring of this man.”

“Where do you live Chandan? If I say something against him, he will allege me of being a characterless woman. This is a man’s society, he will get support and ultimately I would need to leave this apartment and move to the new one. There I will get 3 of such scoundrels…then what? Life is neither a movie nor a book.”

The bell started ringing again. Nandi moved to the door and after rearranging her dupatta, she opened the door, it was Pankaj.

“Talk of the devil and here it comes. I was telling Chandan about men like you.”

“I am sorry. That was a misunderstanding. May I come in now?”

“Yeah, you are not welcome though.”

“Ya, whatever….”

Pankaj forcibly made his way to the chairs and after formal ‘hello’ sat down. He looked at me and asked me in signal whether everything is ok…I said yes.

“Ok, so it seems that you ladies need some privacy here. I would now make tea for all of us and sandwiches. For you too, rascal.” She pointed towards Pankaj.

Pankaj said nothing but held his ears with both of his hands and made a gesture as if asking for forgiveness. Nandi winked at me and went to the kitchen.

“It has increased.” He whispered to me.

“Yes, she is now completely out of control….what should we do now?”

“She needs to be admitted Chandan.”

I said nothing but stood up and moved to a corner of the room, where Nandi could not see from the kitchen. Pankaj came towards me and kept his hand on my shoulder.

“I know, it is hard but you need to accept this that Nandi, your wife, is not doing well.”

“I don’t know what to do Pankaj? I remember the days when we were in college. It was so nice. She has the memory of those days somewhere inside her head…I know…she has the memory of our marriage, and our days of love and peace. How could she forget it?”

“I have told you Chandan that since her elder sister had passed away, she had been acting like her. Because of their tremendous closeness, Nandi went in a shock where she is living the life of her sister.  She is implementing everything which she had been told by her sister. The way she used to get tortured by the society and everything which happened with her…she is even imagining about Aryan, her sister’s son.”

I closed my eyes and drops of tear rolled out from the corners of my eyes. I tried to wipe out the drops of tear but they were constant. I applied pressure on my tongue with teeth and kept on increasing it…so that the physical pain can bypass the pain of my heart. But even the taste of blood could not cover the agony of losing everything despite of having it right in front of the eyes. I could not hug her and tell her that how much I miss her…love her…need her. When Nandi’s sister committed suicide with Arya…Nandi forgot who she really was. She died with them leaving me alone.

“How could she forget the immense love between us? How could she forget the promises we made that we would not stop loving each other even after death? How could she forget the plans we had for our future? How could she forget me?”

I felt my legs shivering and sweat running all over my body. My heart beat was fast, as if was about to stop forever. I felt no power in my legs and my body oscillated towards ground, Pankaj held me. 

“She has not completely forgotten you. You can still be in her good books and eventually marry her again…perhaps it will also restore her memories slowly. Our plan is working as well…she likes you.”

I looked towards him with dismay of becoming unsuccessful on this. He also had tears in his eyes. He signaled me to be normal as we heard Nandi coming.

“Well, I am sorry that it took a while. I am not too good with this so you both will have to excuse me for that. And I need to go and get Arya…so try and finish the breakfast quickly.”

I took a sandwich in my hand. They were well stuffed and well made. It was perfect just like everything about Nandi. She had a perfect figure, perfect height, and perfect eyes. Her curly long hairs were magical and smile was infectious. She again arranged her duppata before leaning towards the table to take the cup of the tea.

The door bell rung again.

“Sale tharki buddhe”

Nandi fiercely rushed towards the door and opened it. There was no one.

 

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Valentine's day

Love is hard to be explained in words and so as the great Valentine’s Day. People expect lovely things for themselves on this day which is quite expected, and I am not an exception to this. Last year I planned to meet one of the ‘Phone friends’, who was erotically innocent while talking over the phone. We were unknown to each other by face as she never shared any picture, and neither did I. It was exciting to meet a person to whom you have never met before. On 14^th Feb we decided to meet in a McDonald’s food chain at 10 am. I was too excited for the date and in delight of meeting a girl, I purchased a branded shirt of ‘Levis’ which cost me more than my half of the salary. Once I reached home I looked at the bill again and realized that it was a bit too much for my small pocket. It is an irony that after goofing up by taking that shirt, I could not look sad while paying that money to those people…because I was paying that just under a video camera. We do many things in our life which cannot be reversed, though we wish to have a reverse button in life. I was watching television in the evening and all of a sudden I came across news which raised my Goosebumps. There was a report about a boy who never returned after a blind date. These news channels are bizarre. I was about to get indulge in a blind date tomorrow, and today they showed this report…bloody fish. On one hand I wanted to meet the owner of that soft voice, to check upon her beauty and many things which I do not prefer to say in public and on the other hand this news report had made my base to sweat. What should I do? Should I cancel the meeting or purchase new underwear and move on? I came with an idea to move on with the plan because I didn’t want my new shirt to wait for too long. I planned to go with a friend and to add some spice in the meeting. I asked that friend to pretend as if he was me, and I decided to act like a stranger. I gave a pat on my back and went to bed to see the dreams which were nasty.
The next day I was sitting inside the food chain of McDonalds, my friend occupied a nearby chair.
“You should sit on a different chair now.” I said and handed over my mobile to him. He transferred himself to a different chair. We both were looking anxious and excited. Soon my friend received a call and he gave directions to the lady. I saw a girl moving towards the table and wished her to be the girl we were waiting for. She said ‘Hi’ to my friend and sat on the chair beside him. I thought I could have wished Lady Gaga to be my girlfriend and that could have been true…wasted a wish. The girl and my friend started talking formally and I started staring towards that girl. ‘Not bad.’ I said to myself. After visiting and revisiting the same assets for trillion times I gave a miss call (with other mobile) on my mobile which was with my friend. He looked at the miss call and ignored it. I felt like the biggest idiot on the earth who gave his ‘to be’ girlfriend to his friend on a plate. All of a sudden I felt the rush of blood and I thought of punching on their table but I suspended the plan as I didn’t want to break my fist for an unknown girl, and friendship day was not too far away as well. I noticed that I have received an SMS. It was from my mobile so, I read it. My friend sent me the information related to the girl and his conclusion was that girl is not good for me although he wrote that he had informed the girl that he was not me. I felt like throwing the mobile on his face. I was planning to poke my nose in between but suddenly both of them moved to the exit. I stared at my friend and he smiled. I thought he will return from the gate after sending off the girl but sometimes a thought can be so wrong. He never returned. My goddamn friend just took my ‘to be’ valentine with him. What? I sat there keeping my hand on my head, and thinking that what should I do with this ‘Levis’ shirt now? I tried to pacify myself saying very good things about my friend. I used all the abusive words I could recall at that time. I noticed that he left my mobile on the table. I took the mobile silently and crawled towards my house thinking that it could have been a better valentine if I would have ignored that news report.
In evening I glared at my mobile and thought of calling that girl, to scold her. At least, I will get rid of my frustration. I called her. The hysterical voices soon started to flow through phone but it wasn’t mine, it was hers. She blamed me for flirting with a girl I even didn’t know and I blamed her for flirting with a boy she was unfamiliar of. All of a sudden we both stopped making noises. There was a pin drop silence. I was shocked that she played the same trick on me and she was also sitting there on one of the chairs. My blood stopped flowing for a second and then a loud laugh destroyed the silence. We both laughed our heart out. I asked her that why she did that? And her answer was shocking. It was the same news report…that sucks. I told her about the reason which prompted me to take that step too. We again laughed till we felt our breaths running out. We decided to meet again without any friend but on next Valentine’s Day.
Now as we are about to see a Valentine’s Day again, I hope our date will be successful. Meanwhile my friend and that girl are still in a committed relationship.

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Back-ache: Causes and remedies.

The population of the world is increasing day by day and so as the problems related to health. A huge part of the population work in offices and they ignore the physical labor which results in yet another problem in our kitty and that is as cosmopolitan as human being-backache. In this article we are going to discuss some of the most ignored causes and some of the easiest remedies. This article would also contain few of the fact about the backache but let’s start busting few of the myths first.

Myths buster

1. ‘Sit straight to prevent backache’ has become an old quote which does not works now. Slouching is definitely bad but sitting straight for the longer period of time can cause in back pain.

2. Taking rest while you are suffering with back pain is nice but resting for longer period of time may backfire and the problem may become worst.

3. Lifting the heavy things cause back pain is partially correct because it depends on how you lift heavy things instead of how much you lift.

4. It is really not momentous that only injuries can trigger the back ache. Dis-degeneration, infections, diseases and even hereditary conditions can start this issue.

5. Anorexia and eating habits can result in bone-loss which of course can be a major cause of back pain.

Causes and facts related to back pain
There are countless reasons of backbone. Our medical science is not so developed yet that it can identify all the causes of back pain. In the researches it has been discovered that bones are not the reason of pain, it is ligament and muscles in 75% of the cases. By simple research we can find out the facts and causes related to the back pain however it is highly recommended that if you are facing this issue for more than 3 weeks you should consult a doctor or a physiotherapist.

1. The exercises are always necessary to keep the body fit but due to latest culture of maintaining a body like a macho man people are more attracted towards rigorous exercises which really do not work, instead of giving an attractive body it results in back pain.

2. A high hill wearing women may look stylish for a while but it is one of the main reasons for back pain.

3. Emotional stress, it causes spasm of the muscles which result in back pain.

4. If you are a smoker/alcoholic then there is news for you which may not sound that good. Cough can cause back pain and as the smokers/alcoholic are slow when it comes to healing, back pain becomes a long term affair.

5. Obesity causes 50% more chances of back pain.

6. The people who sleep on a mattress rated 5.6 on a 10-point hard-to-soft scale they had less back pain than those who slept on a very soft or hard mattress.

7. Gastric can also cause back pain.

8. An injury or a jerk can cause back pain.

How to get relief (domestic treatments)
To get the relief from back pain it is quite important that you know the exact reason of the pain. Is it injury, obesity, old surgery or something else? Though the treatments given here can be used without any fear as all of them are domestic and nearly without any side effects but still if the pain is more than bearable and you are suffering from it since a long period of time then consulting a doctor is the best option.
1. Take lemon grass and ix it with coconut oil (should be twice the weight of lemon grass) and apply that on the external affected area.
2. Mix the betel leaves juice with coconut oil and it can be used as massage oil.
3. Take 8-9 garlic cloves and add in mustard oil, sesame oil or coconut oil. Heat the oil for some time at low flame. Cool the mixture and apply it over the affected area by massaging and keep for 3-4 hours. Take bath after.
4. Self-massage with eucalyptus oil helps in retarding the pain.
5. Consuming a pulp of single leaf of aloe on a daily basis provides relief from back pain.
6. Apply icepack on the affected area. After half an hour keep a hot pack. Repeat it if needed.
7. Acupuncture really works, so if you are suffering from the back pain for a long of time, go and try it.
8. Heat some coconut oil or mustard oil mixed with a little camphor (Karpuram) powder and apply on the affected area.
9. Yoga exercises can be very useful in driving away backache. No hard positions (asana) should be tried if you are suffering from backache.
10. If nothing is really working then magnetic therapy can be tried. It is new way of getting relaxation from muscle pains.
Exercises
I must inform first that if somebody is facing sever back pain then it is better not to do any exercise.
1. Swimming: It is one of the best exercises which not only make the body attractive but also gives stamina to the lungs and limbs.
2. Walking: It may sound out of date or old man’s choice but for the people who find it hard to turn up for the exercises it’s a boon.
3. Cycling: It is definitely one of the trendy exercises which attract people who are in their twenties and teenagers.
These are the three exercises which really keep the back pain away and if someone is already facing the issue which is mild then these exercises can help. It is notable that no pain relief medicines have been mentioned as all of them have their side effects and it is not a very good idea to invite new problems to get rid of one. It is strongly recommended that if the back problem is sever and long term then a doctor must be consulted because it can be slip of cups or dislocation of bones.

 

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KOLKATA DIARIES: Life On Edge

It was as usual a hot and humid day in the city. I threw myself out of the highly comforting AC room (which should reduce the punishment I am about to get for my sins after my death as it was equally painful) of an equally disturbing guest house. It was a surprise that the people living here find it so easy to obey their daily routines. The buses were loaded with people and the roads were flooded with the yellow taxis. The owners of numerous temporary shops (made on the pavements) were busy in arranging their shops to attract customers. It was their daily routine. The shopkeepers or the vendors make and break these pseudo-shops on daily basis. For me it was difficult and full of anxiety, but for them it was just life.

I stood by the tea-stall and asked him for a cup of tea, which he was already preparing. He put the tea and sugar in the milk with his hand, no spoon was required, his hand could judge and measure the right amount of tea and sugar better than a spoon.

“Pani nahi milate ho chai me?” (Don’t you use water in making tea?)

 He stared me with his victimized eyes. The dark circles just below the eyes were complementing his body color. One may not figure out his dark circles without paying constant attention upon his face. He wiped the front line of sweat-army from his forehead with his dirty towel. The second row of sweat advanced, the third row was backing-up. Chai-wala didn’t take much time to understand that his trials of wiping away the sweat was futile. As soon as he tried to open his mouth to tell me something, his attention was snatched by the boiling tea. He quickly lifted the utensil with his bare hands first and then kept it aside. His face clearly indicated how hot that utensil was. He puffed some air from his mouth on both hands and was back to work again. He held the utensil with a piece of cloth this time. The color of cloth was as mysterious as government’s policies for these poor people. He swigged the burn on his hand in the cup of his helplessness and revolved the utensil in circular motion for almost trillion times.

“Doodh me bahut jol hai,jol kyo dega? Log khayega nahi.” (The milk already has enough water)

He finally answered me with his rusty and rowdy Hindi. By that time his little chai-place was swarmed by people. He arranged little tea-glasses in a perfect straight line and poured tea in all of them without stopping while jumping from glass to glass. The first hand, which picked up the glass, was covered by an expensive watch; it was a hand of a police-wala. He was speaking to someone on his SAMSUNG ACE mobile.  

The Chai-wala raised a glass to me. The outside wall of the glass was covered by tea. And my Delhi mind started to calculate the number of bacteria and viruses in that several times used glass. I asked him for a disposable glass. He quickly took out an ultra-small disposable cup and poured the tea in that, without looking at me. His action and reaction-less face clearly indicated that I was not the first example of that Hygiene-Breed for him. The cup was small but beautiful. It was almost like the cups used for Tequila shots in pubs and bars. I took the first sip of the tea, it was the first good tea I had in Kolkata.

The Policeman finished his tea and slammed the glass on the ground. He was finished with the phone-conversation as well. He looked at the screen of his mobile like a lunatic. His face clearly indicated that he was struggling to find the disconnect button. After abusing the manufacture of this mobile, who were eventually not able to hear it, he finally disconnected the call. The Chai-wala looked at him with lots of hope and expectation. The policeman put his hand in his pants pocket and asked the poor chai-wala,

“ Daam koto re?”

“5 takka”

“Boddo goram!! Kobe je brishti hobe?”

He pulled out an off-color handkerchief from his pocket and wiped out the sweat from his entire face. He looked at his expensive watch and started crossing the road. The chai-wala’s gaze chased him until he disappeared in the crowd. The policeman was his first customer of the day, who went without paying. It was not a good omen.

I don’t know that how his earning for the day was affected by not getting those 5 rupees, but he really looked sad. His eyes looked full of anger and it had a hint of saline water in it. He drowned his right hand in a mug filled with water. An expression of relief came on his face for a minute but from the next, he was busy in collecting the money from his customers including me.     

While wandering on the pavements I saw several stalls. It was almost 10 am when I felt that my stomach needs more than tea. I moved briskly while searching for an appropriate place to eat.

‘Panna’s Kitchen’, a red board read. My stomach roared in excitement as soon as the board was visualized. I checked quickly whether anybody was noticing, and I found only me, everybody else had better things to do. I rushed towards the restaurant but my consideration was grabbed by a pleasant smell of Pratha.

An old cloth and plastic sheets were clutched by the railing of the pavement and the other side was pinned to a building. Under this awkward shade, a stove, few plates and a few utensils were resting. It was looking more like a refugee camp but to my surprises, it wasn’t. It was a hotel and the scent of Pratha made from refined oil belonged to this refuge.

A few benches were arranged on the pavement, which was the sitting arrangement. Few people were already busy filling their belly. I took a glimpse of offerings on the plate. Two beautiful Prathe with vegetable (I could recognize only potato in that) and pickle were served. I looked greedily towards the satisfied face of a middle aged man, who had just finished eating. He stood up and washed his hands on the roadside. His musical burp while washing his hands made me forget about the long lessons on hygiene, which I took in my schooldays.

“Kitane ka hai?”

I asked the lady serving a plate to the customer. She looked at my rather expensive dress and shoes.

“Kuri taka”

Soon, the big pieces of a Paratha (drowned in an unknown potato vegetable) were sliding into my stomach. I am not sure whether it was tasty, but it was enough to make me remember some conventional food with no sugar in vegetable. Surprisingly, I found the taste which I wanted in my food in a place which was not even a complete Dhaba. I felt the joy of eating and concluded my eating in 5 parathe.

I continued my quest of finding joy on the roadsides, pavements, mini shops, little tea-stalls, big buildings, bars, roads and monuments till the sun started to set in the west and shade of night started to gobble-up some street light-less places. I started walking towards my obnoxious guest house crossing the streets of Kolkata…city of joy.

 
 

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KOLKATA DIARIES: The Awakening

I rubbed my eyes and tried to recognize the blur ambience through my dozy eyes. ‘Oh, it is Kolkata.’ Last night was a bit difficult, despite of a working AC in my room, I could not get a nice sleep. New places have been problematic for me, specially for sleeps.  It was supposed to be a busy day. I picked up the mobile to see the time; it was 6:15 am. I took a long breath. I threw my blanket aside and jumped out of the bed.

After getting fresh, it was the time to brush my teeth and take a bath. I went towards the bathroom mirror to take a close look on my face. My dark color was deepened and sunburns of yesterday were quite visible. The oil glands of my face have got an ultimate companion in the form of humidity. I closed my eyes and tried to console my heart.

When I opened my eyes, my attention was grabbed by the ‘BINDIS’ stick on the corners of the mirror, as many as 6 of them. The first one was round and big, green color. All others were also round but red in color. I thought about the beautiful Bengali ladies who stayed in that room with their husband, boyfriend or family. It was hard for anybody to say that how many people have stayed there before me. They all would have come with different purposes and different mind-sets. Had the walls of this room could speak; it could have told us a splendid set of stories.

I ordered a cup of tea for me and it was over-boiled to an extent which was far more than required. It made it bitter and heavy. As soon as I had the first sip of the tea, I remember a line from a Hindi story called ‘चिकित्सा का चक्कर’ written by perhaps ‘SUDARSHAN’ (not sure).  ‘स्वाद ऐसा की मुर्दे के मुंह में डाल दो तो वो भी तड़पकर रह जाए’. I felt as if my stomach had jumped into my mouth. I kept the cup of tea aside and waited for the breakfast to arrive.

After a while ‘AMAR’ (the boy taking care of guests in that guest house) brought my breakfast. Bread and omlette with butter…exactly as I ordered.

‘omlette ki chini milano aachhe?’ I asked sarcastically.

‘Na’

He answered and quickly moved towards the stairs. He had no time for my petty sarcasm. I closed the door and finished my breakfast. Despite of my speed and urgency, it was already 11 am.

I moved out of my house and walked towards the main road. I took a taxi and asked him to take me to ‘SHIVPORE’. He casually acknowledged me and started his meter. After travelling 15 minutes or so, my mind started to push me to call my friend Prasun and ask him about his address. I do not discard my intuitions normally.

‘Is it SHIVPURI?

‘NO, it is ‘SHIVRAMPUR’ and once you reach there ask for ‘PONDIT PADA’.

My friend just saved my time and money to go in vain. I asked taxi driver go to ‘Shivrampur’. He acknowledged again and nodded his head. After going through an ordeal in that taxi for almost 40 minutes and asking around 8 people about the address, I finally was able to leave the taxi. Prasun came to receive me.

After all the greeting and Namaste formality, it was the time to have some ‘NIMBU PAANI’. I wondered whether this was the thing which was found during ‘SAGAR MANTHAN’, at that time, people may have called this ‘AMRIT’ but now it was ‘NIMBU PANI’.

After all the news/gossip exchange, we felt that we were running low on energy. So, it was lunch time. Rice, Fish, Daal, Lady-Finger and Jack-fruit. I don’t know whether everything was so delicious or I was so hungry, but either ways it worked. Later I came to know that there was sugar in all the vegetables and I wondered that it still tasted so good. So, putting small amount of sugar in food is not that bad, it is just that you should know, how much to add.

After a long gossip and tea sessions, we decided to go to ‘South-city mall’. An AC mall seemed like a good idea. We booked a taxi and went to south city mall. Being from Delhi, malls were not a new thing for me. In fact, I was tired of going into different malls and seeing same kind of expensive culture but this time it was different.

I entered the mall as soon as I got off the taxi and felt the serene touch of AC on my sweat-clad body. It was like a touch of your first love…deep and soothing. I could not move far from the vent of air for almost 5 minutes. After experiencing the 5 minutes of cool air, I moved in. Lots of showrooms, restaurants, food courts, game-courts…none was of my interest. While Prasun and his friends kept themselves busy in those showrooms I found suitable place for me in ‘Crosswords’. I found a copy of hand written diary of ‘Rabindranath Tagore’. As I turned the pages of that diary my hands shivered. The creation of one of the greatest was in my hand. I could see how he wrote and then cut certain words to find the best combinations, same as we do while we write in out copies and diaries. Though I could not read the entire writing but I could feel the soul of his creation.

Drowned in the memory of literary excellence of English and Bangla, I stepped outside the mall. A rush of warm and humid air collided with my face. I took out my handkerchief and started wiping my face.

Small stalls, hawkers and peddlers had occupied the street right outside the mall. It had all kinds of things starting from fruits, water, chaat, tea, books, crafts and everything which comes in your mind. Generally big malls do not allow such small peddlers to set their business near it. On one side mall was standing proudly with its AC, expensive showrooms, food courts and much more, and on the other side these poor peddlers were trying to increase/gather their livelihood from there. What diversity…ah!

Everybody had talked about the city of joy and its rich culture, but grievances of these peddlers remains constant. I felt a pain in my heart. We feel happy to purchase a creation of a person who no longer exists, no matter how expensive it is. But feel reluctant and negotiate to the highest extent to purchase a piece of craft which is being sold by a person trying to survive in this harsh world. Perhaps we respect the creations of ‘Rabindranath Tagore’ but don’t understand it.                       

Just when I thought that ‘KOLAKATA DIARIES’ will be a simple memoir and I have found what I wanted to pen down through these blogs, I realized that journey of KOLKATA DIARIES is not yet over:

“I thought that my voyage had come to its end
at the last limit of my power,---that the path before me was closed,
that provisions were exhausted
and the time come to take shelter in a silent obscurity.

But I find that thy will knows no end in me.
And when old words die out on the tongue,
new melodies break forth from the heart;
and where the old tracks are lost,
new country is revealed with its wonders.”

                                                                                                                     -Gurudev

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

      

 

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