Summer happiness.

I haven’t felt this exuberant
In months,  perhaps years!

Like a child holding on
To a helium filled balloon
In one hand,
Against a bright blue sky
On a fine summer morning.
With a dollop of ice cream
Of his favourite flavour-
Chocolate chips and orange
In his other hand,
Melting onto his shirt.

Like his baby sister,
Who claps her hand
And cackles loudly
Whilst her tiny palms
Clap louder and louder
And she keeps doing it
Because she enjoys
The sound, and
For no other reason
Than just that.

Like their lovely mother who
Sits on the grass
And looks at her children
Who so effortlessly remind her
Of how beautiful life can be
And how simple it really is.
For, to be happy
All you need is
A little ice cream,
Some clapping,
And a balloon that makes you
Look up to the sky
Against the sun,
On a warm summer morning
With the people who love you
More than you could possibly love

A conversation starter.

There’s just this inane quality in the way light reaches us. I’ve been thinking a lot about light these days. Both light, and lightness. The two seem so…inter-related, yet they could mean different things altogether.
Light. There is a definite confusion over what light is. When we were younger, we used to ask this riddle, ‘which is heavier, a tonne of cotton or a tonne of rocks’. In essence, what determines lightness? Can we really fly without an aeroplane? Is it possible? We could grow wings one day, you and I, and fly. I just need to find that formula I lost while on my way to adulthood. I feel happy. The last few months have seen ups and downs, sure, but I was happy more or less. Make that, the last year. The heart is a wild thing, that is why our ribs are called cages, I presume. I might like other people, that’s human nature but there’s a loyalty that even a pigeon feels toward the master. You’ll come back and I’ll return. It is this unending loop of infinite turns. I write well, don’t fall into the trap of words. You express yourself, or try to, as well as you can. But you get caught up in looking non-vulnerable. Men! I digressed…

In this book I read, life has been broken down into so many beautiful ways. It has no story, but yet, it manages to make one think. You should read it too, if you have the patience. I had to repeatedly go back to reading it, re-reading at times. It was difficult to grasp in the beginning but once over, it was exhilarating.
Yes, I am going to the capital, the place where you once lived, while the one person I really want to meet is not there. Such mean tricks. I want to go away from home and just spend a year writing and drinking coffee and getting high on tequila. I wish I was rich enough to be spoilt. If wishes were horses, I’d ride them like they ride those horses on Game of Thrones, cross the poison water, and meet you.

Oh, you’re online now.
It was nice to be able to write without expecting a reply. Rambling to a screen that replies to your thoughts, was at one point considered impossible. The magic mirror, they would say.




And, that’s how the cookie crumbled.

What if humans have got it all wrong?

What if, there was no rule about studying? If we look at it objectively, schooling followed by graduation and in most cases post graduation, and in some cases a PhD and then in fewer cases some other degree..

All of it is a ruse to keep us busy. It is all a way to pass time till we are old enough to get into the next ruse of our lives: aka earning money. And then, die. (Life family and all other Facebook memories occur in between)

I’ll delve in one at a time. Imagine a childhood where there is no education, only knowledge. We are taught, yet there is no rule. We are learning, yet there is no compulsion. “You don’t go to school? Why?” Such a dialogue would never be uttered because no one believes in the authority of a school bound education, which is littered with exams and ruled by marks. What is the use of education if one cannot apply it? We all went to school, but schooling didn’t teach us how to apply for a loan at the bank, only the format in which we’re supposed to write the letter

The Bank Manager.
Left indent. Date. Subject to be underlined. Body in three paragraphs. … Signature with full name. “How can you STILL not know the format, you’re in class 12!”

That’s just one example. Science students barely know a thing about commerce. Arts? That’s a joke.
The commerce kids know about how a fridge works, but then again who needs to know how? Arts, you mad?
The humanities children don’t understand the rigidity of mathematics. Science and commerce, get a life? Pardon my stereotyping.

We choose our subject by the end of school life with a pre chosen career in mind, most of the times. However in case of the Indian education system, the board chooses the stream they think we deserve, at times. So what if someone scored poor marks and wants to know how the freaking microwave works? The internet, right?

Education, literacy, knowledge. They are three different things and the quicker we understand that, the faster will we be able to focus on what’s really wrong and what’s actually required.

But now, imagine a world sans this mindless banter. We get rid of this ruse and travel the world with our equally cool parents and learn of birds which chirp only in the amazon and dream under an open sky. We could all be so peaceful.

Then, you would say that travelling needs money. No education equals no job equals no money.

RUSE! All a big bad net to keep you busy throughout life, distracting you from what you actually want to do. Read books. Write. Travel. Party. Booze. Stone. Listen to music. Create music. Dance. Just sit and do nothing. Sleep. Cook. Study something you want. Build a robot. Save lives.

Study a subject because you want to DO something with it, not with the intention of earning money to buy something you actually wanted to do.

Imagine a world that deals in barter. It is regressive but what if I could give you what I’m good at and you provide me with what you are food at and we all live at happy life without money or the constant fight over it. Inflation. Rupee versus dollar versus euro versus yen!
“Hello Iran, dude we need a billion litres of oil. Please?”
“Hi India, sure man just send in your vessel full of Saffron”
“I will be watching you two nation” says USA.
“Buzz off”

Wouldn’t it be cool? Utopian and impossible but imagination can make dreams seem weak.

So, if the need for money is abolished, we don’t have to work 9 hours a day or more.  The poor won’t be poor because poverty won’t be an issue…because the word would disappear. The rich won’t have the best cars and the homeless would have homes. Finally, the world would rest solely on what skills god intended to give to you.

How well can you sell yourself?

And now comes my most absurd imagination. Imagine a world without clothes. Nothing, not even leaves.
Animals don’t wear clothes.
We were supposed to roam around with our skin starkly visible. Maybe that’s why we have body hair (that’s one mystery I never could solve, since we do perfectly well without them). Women and men, with children and dogs, all on the streets, naked and eating ice cream and flying kites in a happy world where no one touches another human being a exactly without prior consent. Ah!
There is no rape in the animal world that I know of. If a child, since birth, sees the opposite see in his or her bare and nude form, the instinct to molest another co-species-mate-person would probably, hopefully disappear. ?
That would indeed be the best kind of world to live in.

Such are the ruminations of a mind during the exams. Forgive me, if I have crossed the boundaries of your imagination. : )

Holi thhi!!

It was Holi today. The festival to celebrate the beginning of a season and also, to make sure no one resembles themselves but smothering them with colours. WoOt! It is the best festival EVER. I love it. I wait for it, earnestly every year. A lot of my friends aren’t pro-holi, given that the colours (called abeer in bengali) aren’t herbal or organic, so there’s the huge issue of skin rashes… and then, people start slinging mud and eggs, rotten tomatoes, the entire mass of things-we-don’t-want-on-our-face.

But I love it. More because, I don’t mind a few rashes and acne on my face. I have so many, anyway, what harm could a few more do, right? And there’s children running around with cute little water guns (pichkarisand uncles and aunts boozing away, halfway down till Sunday, everybody’s hands are pink and faces are red, nails are filled with colour which refuses to come out and there is bhaang everywhere. Bhaang is the best Indian concoction of an illegal (?) drink, and even children gulp it down, cause well, Burra na maano HOLI HAIIII  !

I live in a colony, so the mud slinging and tomato throwing remains contained to a minimum and there is just a lo of water and colours and drying up in the sun, while lying on the grassy lawn, tripping a little on the bhaang that you were given by the adults of the colony, all of this while really bad bollywood songs are blasted on the hired speakers and you’re so thrilled, you actually dance to them like there is no tomorrow. And then when the body begins to ache, you slug back home to sit under the shower, trying in vain, to get back the normal complexion. It sounds dreary and scary but it is double the amount of fun than what I can possibly describe. Imagine, running after your buddy to paint his/her face a shiny golden or a smoky green…which all, in the end, turns to black cause all the colours get mixed up.

It is a day to make amends and forgive, forget and hug things out. It is a day to make merry, to drink openly, to eat great food and visit relatives, cousins, friends, the shizz. It is a day where being dirty is accepted. It is a day where being high is the norm. It is a day where there is colour everywhere… happiness, joy and rainbows being farted out at every corner. How cool can a festival get? Yes, I look like a red-faced bozo right now but I loved every moment of getting painted and thrown water balloons at. It hurts like crazy (that’s the only minus point), but then again, we pay good money to play Paintball, which also hurts life crazy. Tomato-tomaato, then?

Here are some really ugly photos from the day that was, and will always be the day I look forward to every year.




Today, I am choosing happiness.

Some people love a motive. A target to fulfil often keeps a lot of people alive and kicking. A reason to talk, a cause to help, a limit to reach, an audience to share with; these make a tonne of us feel more secure. It’s like we have something to do at the end of each day. The latest craze is the #100happydays thing on instagram.
I find the idea absurd. I feel it’s rather alright to have a few blue days. In fact, being gloomy is, at times, helpful. Blues make me introspect and think. When I’m grumpy, I work better. All the smiles and giddiness, joy and tickles make me feel complete, and therefore saturated, and ultimately complete…so, the need to work (or reach a target) doesn’t even occur to my happy-high mind.

A majority of my close friends are a party to this online frenzy. To be honest,  I had contemplated participating as well but I found it to be an enormous chore. It’s too much of work. And isn’t happiness supposed to be effortless? So I have stayed away from it. Till now.

I am happy yo!” That’s all it takes to feel happy from within. There need not be a reason, or a photograph to justify it. Even after a particularly crappy day, possibly peppered by an argument or two, and then garnished by crowshit on your shampoo-fragranced hair, you could smile after crawling under your blanky and feel content and happy. Would you reaaaally want to crawl out and click a selfie to keep a memory of it, if not to share to the world of online media then, for yourself? (The website #100happydays gives an option to keep the images private as well)
I mean, I’d remember that warmth even without a picture. *insert comfy red cheek smiley*

We all have a compulsion to register everything. Even I do, I wouldn’t lie. Pictures Photographs Polaroids.
Always clickclickclick editeditedit uploaduploadupload likelikelike commentcommentcomment. However, I’m trying to overcome the urges, except for when I dress up. Then, of course I’d want photographs (I am a girl afterall…)

I’m working on staying away from my phone. I’m working on staying away from people in general. Somehow conversations which are too long, pointless and mundane make me feel as if I am wasting too much of the tiny amount of time I’ve been given. There’s a lot to do and so so SO little time!

For now, I feel happy. There is no reason for happiness. You could assume that a lot of things are making me feel positive or that, there is actually nothing specific that is making me smile, or that I’m a really pleased victim of substance abuse : P (not)

Smile. Everyday is day 001 of your 100 days and remember that.

This is what makes college happy!


These two idiots are my newest found loves and the wretched college remains bearable because of them. One makes me tear my hair off my head (the guy, obviously) and the other one is my sweetheart, my roomie. Today we had planned a surprise birthday outing for her and it was fun to see her expression change from horror to bewilderment to sheer joy. And then to see her face painted with chocolate cake! It was her first ever surprise birthday thingy and my first ever plan. So happy that it turned out well 🙂 -stay happy!