Sunday, March 27, 2011


Fortunately I used to be a very sound sleeper from my childhood (for which I’m often scolded like anything during exam times) until a few persons infiltrated into my peaceful life and trampled all serenity of night. Even if I don’t meet them for months still on my bad nights they never miss the chance to give me a goose bump in sleep.

This article is dedicated to them and through this I want to tell them to spare my sleepless nights for God’s sake.

1. Marriage-Obsessed Neighborhood Aunty: I had never thought that just by staying in neighbor, anyone could get into trance of my dream. I can’t ever forget the moment when our neighborhood aunty had showed up with a box full of sweets and chagrined me and my mom by offering her son’s marriage proposal saying that her son is mad for me. I was totally paranoid and my mom was both astound and frightened with her over-friendly gesture. Obviously she had to go bitterly disappointed (how could I marry her son who wears orangey shirts with Hannah Montana on it and blowing farting attitude before girls in college) but still I dream that she is planning to ambush me and forcefully make her daughter-in-law.

2. Her Ogling Son: Her son charts to the second place of my list. Marriage!!! Love!!!! How can a girl actually like a half clown and half insane. And his fashion sense…I can’t even image in my worst day to dress up like that. A red floral shirt with matching tight embroidered jeans comes under his formal wearing and that he used to wear to flatter me with a misconception that I love ‘red’. God knows who that informer is. From a friend I came to know that he has spent thousand bucks to get the information about me. That informer must be too cunning who looted this dork for some info about me. The scariest dream about him was that we are married and are going for honeymoon to some lost island. There he is wearing a yellow suit while I’m draped in a dark violet sari with big yellow and orange sunflowers all over it and he dragging me to somewhere with a big sinister smile paired with his thin moustache. Oh Gosh! I’ll definitely prefer to join any abbey rather than to marry such a prat.

3. My college principle: I’m sorry but somehow I need to get this resentment out before that I burst out in anger. He may suspend me after reading it or put me into detention but sorry my dear princi( his nickname), it’s my blog page not your college campus and be obliged to God that I’m not mentioning your name here .I know your address and phone no. too.

I just hate him. It’s like his blunt face keeps swirling around my mind whenever we do bunk classes. The way he yells at us without any reason, has actually made him into this horrible chart. I really hate to see his bald head with a giant face and a mouth like kitchen always shouting at us in my sweet dreams. And I hate it more when you spit at us talking.

4. All my brainy math teacher: I don’t have any personal strife with my math teachers to be settled down and it’s not like I hate them personally. There are some good math teachers with whom I’m still in touch. But it’s something because of the subject. I’m never so good at math and there were a few malevolent teachers who have mortified me a lot before whole class. The thing is that I drowse in math classes and for that I’m humiliated for many times. It’s not their fault actually. Sometimes I do dream of standing up on the bench hanging head down and the whole class is laughing at me. Please try to understand that there exist some dyscalculia patients too.

5. My family doctor: It’s not like I’m tamed of those syringes and injection needles. But I hate those green and orange vitamin capsule stripes. Every time I visit him, he scribbles something nonsense on a white pad with his name and address embossed on its left corner. I feel sorry for the dispensary people who have to decipher those ruined and bruised letters every time. And then I do have to gulp all those bitter sticky capsules. I really hate those syrups and those Dracula eyes of my doc peering through thin gold framed glasses and x-raying me. Sometimes I do dream that I’m bound to my bed with coarse ropes and he pouring a big bottle of red syrup that both taste and smell yuck.

6. My ex-boyfriend: Although it’s been a year that I’ve broken up from the relation and now I’m too happy, settled and satisfied with my life still somewhere deep inside my mind and heart his memories are stashed . Usually whenever I do sleep after watching any movies about treachery in love and relationship, I dream about him. And that moment I woke up, frantic with a terror and torment. All those repulsive memories with him start spreading like a venom searing fire into my skin.

7. Insane street beggars: Actually my granny is accredited for it. I used to be a naughty, wicked and stubborn child and to make me comply her words she used to tell me about the beardy beggars carrying very dirty torn sacks over their shoulder .She used to tell that they do kidnap wayward children in that bag and carry them to a dungeon where neither T.V nor food is allowed (she knew that both T.V and food are my weaknesses). Still now the fear is dwelling somewhere in my mind and I always leave and turn back from the way if I find an insane beggar with a bag.

8. Greasy uncles: Uncles are really lucky. They can do many things that many teenage young boys starve for. Like giving a bear hug to friend’s beautiful daughter till her face is smacked on his pot belly. Unnecessarily sticking to her butt with an excuse of asking them about their well beings. In fact I also have some those kind of greasy uncles more than whom I would prefer to hug a vampire ( at least vampire uncles are charming and sleek). The worst nightmare about them was that I’m stuck in a century old bungalow with ten to fifteen greasy uncles.

9. Rumor mongrels of my class: They are another prime reason for whom I missed my several classes in the beginning of college days and had to miss sleep too. Though now I’ve learnt to both ignore and answer back in their tongue. Thanks to them, I’ve got along with lots of boys who are my good friends now with whom they used to pair me. So just a few words for them –“just keep f**king you b#$@%hes. Even my s%&t doesn’t care it. :P”

10. Whooping relatives: “atithi deva bhava”- this is what we are taught at home. In our culture, we are ought to consider guests as our God. WTF ! I can only dream my relatives as fatty monsters with big horns and a big thorny tail with whom they are tormenting us physically and mentally always asking weird question at unearthly hour. Last but not least they are something always dispensable .

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

GirLS! SteP OuT:
Sometimes I really wonder from where does my wicked mind get such creepy ideas??? Something that will almost chagrin parents and will make you a topic of gossip on canteen table. Hang on!!! It’s not like I losing my “V” or something like kissing a stranger in front of whole college. But what I did one need to be really crazy and I’m a self-confessing retard which is rare in the world.
Our college is about 20 kms (i.e 12 miles) from our house. We are provided with college-bus facility which really sucks most of time. This was also one day when the bus service drove us up the walls. That day we had only two classes as some teachers were absent due to their respective screwed life and we had nothing to do after break. As per iron-rules of college, to go by bus we had to wait for five long hours with nothing much to do in hand. And that particular day there was really nothing to eat in the canteen too. And our college so far from the town or almost on the outskirts of town that there isn’t even shop to buy a candy.Horrible!!!! I and my friend anita who catches from bus from the same bus were desperately ranting the administration for pissing us off in boredom. I had already finished listening to all songs on my mobile and wasn’t a bit interested in repeating those tracks again. Anita’s situation was something like that too. Doing nothing is really a difficult thing. So we decided to have a brisk walk around the campus.
It was end of winter days when we used to have shivering mornings, whooshing frigid air shuddering ears while devilishly hot afternoons with blue clear and endless sky. We jumped off the bus rubbing our hands and eyeing all around deciding exactly where to go to divert our hacked mind. We also searched for other option to reach home sooner like asking lift standing on sideways of highway. But travelling with a stranger on these lonely roads is no way less than tugging a sleeping lion’s moustache. Another option before us was to catch public bus. The moment we decided to catch some public buses to home, the sooner an overcrowded bus crossed the road whooshing dust shattered our ideas. Except the front side of the bus, from every place people were hooked like mangoes hanging down branches. And inside was so crammed that even an ant wouldn’t have enough space to barge through. It was the only bus in last hour to our fate. So we decided to walk along the same path the bus had rutted on. At least doing something will pass the time.
Sun was burning bright yellow blinding eyes. That was somehow hotter than past a few days. Ripe tamarinds were hanging from dusty green tree on side walk. Beside to the road, grey fields were widened beyond the extend human eyes can see. It was after-yielding season when all grains were yielded. Just a few vegetables like overgrown cabbages, pouted cauliflower and pot-belied egg plants were over some fields. All of sudden the evil part of my brain was lighted with some adventurous thoughts. “Why not to get home on foot. It’s just 20 kms. Not much. We are young bones in hot blood” I thought to myself estimating the hours we will take to be at home. With little hesitation I shared this stupid idea with anita too. Don’t know how but she also agreed on it. Perhaps her mind was also out of order in that time.
I was wearing my hoody woolen brown jacket which was wound around my waist and she was wearing a permeable knitted grey sweater which was still on her torso like this from the morning. I checked for water bottle and filled it thinking that it might be needed on way. There were a few candies that I had bought this morning. We started walking along with chattering about several hot topics and rumors of college and chewing candies. Without any exhaustion we walked through five to six kms until a small temple came to our sight. It was standing alone with a triangular red flag flying in twisting wind and the temple door was closed. We clicked a snap on mobile standing there with smile on face. Later,it became the memoir and proof of this dorky deed. In next half an hour we crossed a small bridge over a canal which was two kms away from the temple. By that time smile had vanished from our face and all the mirth and enthusiasm had turned into exhaustion. But our spirit was still alive. At least mine. I willed myself as there was no other way. If we did quite it there and decided to return to college, we would not be able to make it as our steps were tired. So we decided to walk till we get any bus on this way.
By next half an hour our step had lost its senses. Heels were soaring in pain. Sun seemed perching us searing with heat. All candies were finished by then and half of the water bottle was empty. It’s been continuous one and half an hour that we were walking. Our shoulders were also shagged. To our misfortune there wasn’t a single bus to our rescue. Both were standing in middle of lonely roads hopelessly and helplessly. The road never seemed so lonely and long when we used to go by bus or perhaps we never bothered to notice. Anita had already cursed me several times for accompanying me in such foolish idea and now even she was too tired to speak anything. She was about to cry by then. Her eyes were welled up with tear which made me ashamed of my stupidity. I was just praying God to send even a small vehicle to our relaxation. That’s when all of sudden a blurred box-like something shimmering in the bright day light came to sight on the road from the direction. After a while, it came to realization that it was an auto rickshaw. We waved our hand before it asking for lift. To our rescue, it stopped. There were four people inside including the driver and two goats. The only place available there was the open space behind the passenger seats for luggage. If it were anywhere in the town, I would rather wait for another hour than compromising to sit there. But our situation was far away from affording any kind of luxury. Closing our eyes we crammed ourselves in that small stinking place with our leg dangling outside.
That was enough for the day. The auto rickshaw reached us till the first crowded junction from where much other transportation was available as the passengers were heading to another direction. After half an hour of another auto rickshaw journey, we finally reached our homes. Finally being in home seemed like crossing Mount Everest. I heaved a sigh of relief. The day neither could I nor anita can ever forget when with a lots of attitude we had step out in the journey and ended being hacked off. Still now when we see the picture, we laugh till stomach starts aching. In real that crazy endeavor for such a eccentricity will always be in our memory.

Saturday, March 5, 2011

Another saga of love and grievance :

There was a guy named Rohan Rathod. He was a graduate from IIT,Guwahati. He used love a girl named Supriya. He adored everything in her. She was like the best thing happened in his life. But perhaps fate had stored something else in their life. One day the boy fell sick in high fever and unbearable headache. As his condition didn’t seem to improve by the local pharmacist’s drug, he went to a renowned doctor of the city.

He went through many testes including scanning and x-ray of his total anatomy. At last it was found that he was suffering from cancer and he is in the last stage where medical science hasn’t gleaned enough to step in to help.

After he came to knew it, he was totally broken. He wasn’t worried for himself rather he was sad because he thought that Supriya’s tender heart wouldn’t be able to endure this shock. Still then he didn’t want to cover the truth from her. He gathered all his shattered hopes to face her with the truth and willed that the time for him will be best time of life. “Till death do us apart”- he thought to himself and walked out to her.

But everything just muddled up and his world went up side down. The girl wasn’t truthful to him. When she heard about it, she broke up with him. The budding love was smashed under her self-centered ego and self-love.The boy couldn’t bear this and cursed the God for suffering him for nothing. Wasn’t the death enough that he had to go through another death of his love and heart ? The treachery was thousands fold worse than cancer. His only last wish was to make the girl realize the depth of his love. That’s why he wrote a beautiful song with all his emotions and care and dedicated it to the girl. His song survived and caught every listener in rapture but he couldn’t. On the 15th day after recording the song he died. Before dying he left a letter addressing her where he had mentioned his last wish that wanted the girl to at least listen the song for once. After listening to the song, she couldn’t believe that what she had lost in her foolishness. She lost the person who loved her the most from everywhere of him. Although she left the place with silent tears but two days after her body was found hanging in her room. She couldn’t take this fortune’s blow.

This is perhaps the saddest story ever happened in love history. Though they are no more, still they are alive in the song. You can feel his depth of love listening this song.

You can also download the MP3 from the given link below:

Wait!!! did you also believed whatever written above. Are you sure all that written above is true. You seem doubtful now. Isn’t it? And I sound absurd and demented to you. If you’re also the one who believed this, you are really a sweet heart who can be deceived anytime easily on the name love and sacrifices. Think yourself. Doesn’t the story sound bit filmy type. The IITian boy….pretty girl…happy days…sudden death….boy dies and girl gave up her life…and the only thing left which is the witness of their divine love is the song.

“What the hell”- You will also say it when you will realize the conspiracy of marketing. Yep,I also had said the same thing when I googled for hours and finally came to know that the story is nothing but an unethical ploy to elicit response and advertise the song. To gain popularity , the poor producer stringed the song with a sad story of unrequited love and death.

This is simple strategy. Most of us in their life somewhere have suffered from this heart break thing. When we listen the song and story behind it, we forget the reality and get dragged to the boulevards of memory lane when our heart was once thrashed. We forget that we live in a real world. Our hormones controlling emotions starts secreting at double speed. So we can’t be fully blamed for believing it. After all we are human beings loaded with emotions. I can bet that most of girls and many boys too have cried while listening to the song. But the reality is the story is just a masterpiece of deception dipped with emotional shite though I can’t say the same about the song. In fact right now I’m listening to the song and it is in my every playlist.I just love the beats at the beginning and the notes at which it ends. I just love the deep voice of the singer.

The only intention behind this blog is to awake you from the delusions about the song. It doesn’t mean that true love and sacrifices doesn’t exist anymore. True love is everywhere and in everyone. There isn’t anyone who has never loved someone more than himself. Love is just love. No further explanation or reason is required for it.

Whatever may be the truth behind the debatable story, but the fact can’t be denied that the song is truly enticing. Whoever is the original singer of the song, I would love to hear some more renditions of music of him.

(Published on wholesome of every soft heart and public interest. There is no intention to hurt anyone with the blog. )