16th July. Feast Day. Within thy hallowed portals Carmel dear…Colour dress, food, music and dancing. My first year, when I was still new, I turned up wearing my best frock, and found the fashion sense of the rest of the school far evolved than me. Honestly though, I liked frocks- still do. You pick one thing, and you’re done. No need to find the right blouse or where in the name of Narnian cupboards did the dupatta or salwar disappear to? Anyway, I think I wore salwar suits for the next two feast days. As absurd as it now sounds, not every girl wore jeans those days, and I didn’t have any till I got to Class 10. I owe my fellow Carmelites for my first exposure to fashion, and for being able to conceive the thought that I could wear jeans too. And so on Feast Day in Class 10, I wore my first pair of bare denims with a pale pink tee. One of my friends kept trying to get me to dance but I couldn’t dance back then and I can’t dance now. Sorry, Mr. Darcy, you’ll always be my first love, bu…

Fragments of Delirium

* Dedicated to the youngest of the Endless, who was once called Delight
A city is never one city but a haphazard collection of many cities, each with their own  This part, for instance- red brick buildings, imposing architecture, a page from a different decade. And a road full of yellow taxis- bulky and bright and defiantly old-fashioned. And for the tiniest slice of time, the city is a stranger. The clouds gather. ~ Say thank you. Be polite. Smile. Or type a colon and close a bracket on the secret. Make cheerful plans. It is easy to hide if you know the words, or the signs, to prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet[i]… The windows are shut. What of the weather? ~ And cold iron chains my dreaming soul and bars the door to faerie… ~ Sometimes reading is like an inevitable goodbye, for you know the story must end somewhere. Or stop, at any rate. And you want to cling on to it, knowing that your life have changed irrevocably forever by these hosts of imaginary people and that you can ne…

To Stories that touch the heart, and Monsoon, My Old Love

Some stories are clever. They strike with their ingenuity and execution and they hold your attention. Some stories are well-plotted- all the pieces fitting together neatly in the end like a jigsaw puzzle. Some stories however hold your heart with their authenticity and the ones in Julie Orringer’s collection titled How To Breathe Under Water belong to this category. Orringer's writing is beautiful- raw, lyrical and honest. They break your heart and choke you and you, immersed in these other lives, don't even notice you're holding your breath. And you realize why it is so- it's because Orringer draws you out from your own time and space and immerses you in with her characters who are all submerged, in the process of drowning, and you drown with them. Perhaps if we reach the end of the book, we shall become adept by then to breathe underwater. I sincerely hope that the people in the books did- the pilgrim children, the sixth-grader dancer, the drug-addict aunt... I hope …

Of Winged Creatures and Exit Paths

Where do lost flies go? I mean, they obviously go somewhere, which is how they get lost in the first place, but how do they get back to starting point? On an average, the male Musca domestica has an average lifespan of 28 days. It’s top flight speed is 4/5 mph.
I wonder if it remembers where it started once it’s reached the end. Why am I talking about flies after talking about gods? Well you see it's a natural progression:

As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods;[i]which makes me wonder- do flies go through existential crisis? Do they believe in fate? Last Saturday I booked an Ola Share from my college. The first cab never turned up, and when we called him, he said he was waiting at Quest Mall, which, according to the information on his app, was the pick-up location that we had selected. I checked my app- it clearly said ‘Work’, which was a saved location- with the address of my college. Incidentally the place is at least 20 minutes’ walk from Quest Mall. So naturally, we had to b…

What if the Universe Was Godless

This is going to be short.
One of my favourite Discworld quotes, out of many many favourite Discworld quotes, is this one:

It isn't something new, but recently there has been an escalation in religion-fueled hatred and aggression, and I have been thinking if the world would be a better place  if there was no concept of religion, no concept of divinity, what would the world be like?
As a Bengalee girl growing up in Kolkata, no saree for Saraswati Puja, no meeting friends  and no special album releases and magazine releases for Durga Puja, no cakes for Christmas...
What if humanity had never thought of God? Or gods? Man saw the Unknown and called It God, and because of his nature, sought to know it. And therefore came religion, and afterwards, science. If we had never longed to find God, would we ever find science? Where would we be today? Would a …

No time like the present!

So, finally, I've come up with the plan to keep this blog working. Writing work-outs! Yes!
Over the sparsely productive years of my life as parts of various online writing communities, I have collected various writing prompts, exercizes to generate ideas, work-outs to break that damnable writers' block- all safely pasted, saved and filed away in an obscure folder on My Computer. Now, my plan is to use those exercizes to keep those blog-posts coming at respectable intervals. I might still come up with other posts, though, when the mood hits me, so watch out for those, but here's the first of the exercizes:

 1. Think of adjectives that define your personality. For example, mine might be bold, cocky, friendly, straightforward and witty. With those adjectives in mind, write 350 words on your favourite activity, and infuse those personality traits into your words.  Right, I accept I'm cheating a bit here. This was written weeks ago and I just didn't post it. Because, you…

Sound alarms!

This is getting old. I begin  a post with profuse apologies for not posting more often, then I go off again. It's like an endless loop. Meanwhile crazy guys leave their crazy preachy rants under my comments section.
Anyway, here's what happened while I was fooling around in my online invisibility cloak. I got transferred, changed workplace, got a new syllabus to deal with, went through my first lot of university exam answer-scripts- honestly, I would take a few hundred dementors instead! And I'm still reading 'Dance, Dance, Dance' and also reading 'Magic Mountain' and my laptop and phone went for repairs and it was crazy.
And now I'm posting another pointless blog article and I have no effing idea why except perhaps I enjoy typing aimless words. Perhaps I need a new plan of action. Have a faint idea, let's see how that works out.