Ruchira's Ramblings

Hidden in a corner of the busy market street was a little store where nobody ever went in. It's entrance was hidden by a moth-eaten curtain that smelled of decay. Nobody knew who the owner was, nobody had ever seen him. As a matter of fact, there were so many other interesting shopsin that street that nobody ever bothered about this odd little thing- shops selling the richest carpets from Persia, lovely bright trinkets that shone like sunlight on the ripples of a fast-rushing river, mirrors that were framed by the most intricate craftsmanship, rich garments in every possible hue under the sun, and then some more, aromatic spices and wine. It was the most famous market street in the world, and merchants from every country brought their wares there. The street was never quiet. Proprieters vied with each other as they hawked their wares to the customers, balladeers strummed their harps in the hope of a meal, beggars wailed their sorry tales to the passers-by, and amidst all this, th

Hello people! Haven't been here for two weeks, written nothing either because with a packed vacation schedule you barely have time to think or be alone and now I have no idea wat to write. Ugh! I hate this part where you have to pick up the momentum after a break. So here goes- I'll just be thinking out aloud and hope something coherent comes out of the ramble. I might also be a little jetlagged and going crazy from the all the lovely cracker-bombs which ensured I couldn't hear my own voice when I sat down with my harmonium (another thing to pick up after the break) so I'm not entirely sure I can hear myself think. What could go wrong? Let's begin. First off, these people with so much anger about what other people wear or eat or who they love or sleep with- I would like to ask why? Who's stopping you from dressing up like an gauze-wrapped mummy, or any other way you want, sir? What are you afraid of? Being alone? Not fitting on? Are your clothes or your food

I don't particularly like these, but they got written, so... Original Song Lyrics ©Ruchira Mandal The Road I stayed up all night, started at five For the road was long and dark But my pack was light and my hopes were high When I started on my walk. And you know that I loved you I was true when I kissed you And you know that I’ll never look back. I stopped at a crossroad, the people were friendly And my legs had begun to ache Got used to the warm bed and the meal that came timely And before I knew I was caught. And you know that I loved you I was true when I kissed you And you know that I’ll never look back . The walk got lonely, the air got cold, The path got high and steep I posed to be strong and brave and bold For the fall was way too deep. And I know that you loved me You were true when you kissed me And may be one day I’ll come back. … Broken I wish I could recall The memories of the rain But all that I ha

To many more years of clashing dates and running late, of torn shoe straps and dreaded traffic traps, pink dresses and letdown tresses, missing friends and catching trends: I raise a margarita with a straw! ~ We were in class 11 when we started going out pandalhopping together. The first year, I wasn't in the city during Durga Pujo, so my turn came next year, when we were in class 12. I remember the frenzied planning involved- renting a car, chipping in the money, deciding a place to eat (and eventually not finding seats there), picking the outfits and so on. I remember trying to apply nail polish the day before and making a mess and frantically calling up friends (on the landline) for help. I remember people losing their ways on the perfectly straight road between Carmel High and JU Gate 4. And I remember the miles and miles of walking, in spite of the car, and getting foot sore from all the new fancy shoes and having to shop for bandaid in between pandals. I remember the grou