Learn to enjoy your own company

I have been traveling on my own since I was 18. Across states, countries, and continents. And I have never faced any major issues. In fact, most of the times, strangers have been kind to me.

I remember a particular incident when I was flying to US for the first time. I had a stopover at Newark Airport where I had to take a tram line to another terminal for my flight to Boston. The tram started with a jolt and I almost fell over. I caught the shoulder of an elderly African American man standing next to me. He was about my father’s age and he smiled kindly as he helped me find my feet. Most of the other folks in the crowd laughed in good humor too.

I was a little embarrassed because this was new to me and I was not prepared for it. Life has offered so many novel experiences. Some pleasant and some not so pleasant. But I almost always had help. Even when I was not looking for it. Sometimes, all you have to do is ask before you tumble.

Another thing I want to mention in my rambling today (and I can not stress it enough). Our spouses can not give attention to us 24/7. They have their jobs and other commitments. We have to find ways to enjoy our own company. I like to read, write, or attend Lit events when I can. Occasionally, I go to a cafe or my favorite bar. Sometimes, to a library or for shopping. There is no reason why you should stop going out if your husband can’t accompany you. My husband definitely doesn’t put that imposition on me. He actually likes it when I go out with my friends and enjoy myself.

He will always ask when I get back,’Did my baby have fun?’

I will mostly say,’ Yes’ with a big smile. Or crib about something I didn’t like. But there will always be a story to share at the end of the day. I think that the communication is the key to the trust he has in me. When we start hiding things from each other, it will be the day when I will start to worry. And that will be the day when I will start feeling really lonely.

The Whole Truth

I am your conscience
I am heavy with guilt
Because I know your truth

How messed up you are
Behind those perfect pictures;
How sad behind that smile;
How lonely in that crowd;
And how weak behind
The display of all that strength.

But there are no ‘likes’ for a swollen face,
A broken arm or a bruised neck
So, hide your wounds
And smile for the world.
Caption it with fake inspiration.

And even though you feel empty inside-
Pretend that
You are constantly living
A rich, full life.

Only I know your whole truth.

My memories about Café Coffee Day (CCD)

The cafe culture was still novel in India. One of my undergrad batch mates worked as a barista at Café Coffee Day and I was so proud of him that he earned his own pocket money.

I used the second floor in Sector 18 Noida to study for my final exams because my hostel didn’t have air conditioning during the hot summer months. I would sit with a Devil’s Own and sip through calories that didn’t seem to stick to my body. Now, I will die just by looking at the amount of sugar in it.

Someone from Get Gorgeous Season 2 photographed me while I was out with a hostel wingie. They asked me to go to an audition in Delhi. That is another story how it went. But that led me to shoot a portfolio and one of the shots was my Orkut profile picture for years.

I also kissed my then boyfriend on a dare there. I still remember the jaw of the guy sitting next to us drop to the floor. Oh, to be young and stupid!

By the time I got a job, I think the location had already closed down for some reason.

Of all the places I have visited in the world, I don’t think I have created so many memories of so many different flavors at one place, except at that particular CCD (and Caffe Frascati at Downtown San Jose). It will always be special.

Though some of my friends liked the more ‘happening’ Barista, I liked the comparatively quieter CCD and its jukebox which had Annie’s Song btw. What more could you possibly want to chill ? Grateful to have had that space back then during my early adulthood.

*
The founder allegedly committed suicide link

Loneliness

People do stupid things when they’re lonely. I have been there. I know it. The shadows crawling on the wall are sometimes the only company you have. You’re willing to pay any price to feel alive and present. Your dignity, your body, your pride. But these are not the currencies that can buy you affection. You learn much later that real intimacy is knowing someone really well. How their faces lit up when they’re happy. How their shoulders droop with the weight of their worlds. How you can comfort them by running your fingers through their hair while they rest their head on your lap. There’s no guarantee that you won’t be lonely again. But you’ll always have something to look forward to.

আত্মীয়-স্বজন

আমরা যখন ছোট ছিলাম তখন আমাদের বাড়িতে কেউ এলে মা তাকে ভাত না খাইয়ে যেতে দিতেন না, সে যত দূরসম্পর্কের আত্মীয়ই হোক না কেন ।  এর মধ্যে তুলনামূলক যাদের অবস্থা বেশি ভালো ছিল না তাদের কিছুটা জোর করে- আরো বেশি বেশি করে খাওয়াতেন ।  আমরা জানতাম যে হয়ত অনেকদিন তার ভালোমন্দ কিছু জোটেনি, তাই ডাল-ভাত-ভাজা-তরকারি-মাছের পর অনেক সময় মা দোকান থেকে রসগোল্লা-পান্তুয়া আনিয়েও  খাওয়াতেন ।  মাকে তখন আমার খুব ভালো লাগত ।  

এমন একজন দূরসম্পর্কের আত্মীয় ছিল যার ভীষণ চুরির বাতিক ছিল ।  দামি গয়না টয়না নয়, খুচরো টাকা পয়সা বা ইমিটেশন জুয়েলারি কিংবা চুলের ক্লিপ - এসব ছোটখাটো জিনিস তার যাওয়ার পর প্রায়ই হাওয়া হয়ে যেত ।   মা তো একবার তাকে রান্নাঘর থেকে পেঁয়াজ চুরি করতেও দেখেছিলেন ।   আমি মাকে জিজ্ঞেস করতাম যে,’ তুমি ওকে কিছু বলো না কেন?’ মা তখন খুব গম্ভীর হয়ে বোঝাবার চেষ্টা করতেন যে তার প্রয়োজন আমাদের থেকে বেশি ।  আমাকে সান্তনা দেওয়ার জন্য বলতেন যে, ‘আচ্ছা, আগামীবার তুমি একটু চোখে চোখে রেখো!’

কিন্তু এরপরও সে এলে মার ব্যবহারে কোন ত্রুটি থাকত না ।  আমি তখন বুঝতে পারতাম না যে কারোর পরিস্থিতির জন্য সে পুরোপুরি নিজে দায়ী নাও হতে পারে ।  তার অনেক চাহিদা থাকতে পারে যা তার পক্ষে পূরণ করা সম্ভব নয়  ।  তখন সে অন্যের জিনিস চুরি করার মতলব করে ।   কিছুটা হয়ত অভ্যাস হয়ে দাঁড়ায় ।  না হলে আলু-পেঁয়াজ-লেবু এসব না বলে ব্যাগের মধ্যে কে ঢুকায় ? 

যখন কাউকে দেখে মনে হয় যে মনের দিক দিয়ে তারা কত দরিদ্র, কত বিকারগ্রস্ত- তখন ছোটবেলার কথা মনে হয় - হয়ত তার পরিস্থিতির জন্য সে নিজে দায়ী না।  হয়ত সে সারাটা জীবন অন্যের জিনিসের প্রতি লোভ করে কাটিয়ে দেবে।  এখানে ক্ষতি খুব একটা হয়ত আমার হচ্ছেও না।  কিন্তু সবাই জানে কার মনে চোর। সে হয়ত নিজেও জানে এবং মনে মনে নিজেকে ধিক্কার দেয়।  সকল পরিস্থিতিতে মানিয়ে নেওয়া সবার পক্ষে সম্ভব না।  কিন্তু নিজেকে বারে বারে লাঞ্চিত করাতে কি সুখ আছে তোমরা বলতে পারো ?

Black/Kuro

Kuro means 'black' in Japanese

জুনোর জন্যে পাত্র চাই

আজকাল জুনোর সন্ধ্যে হলেই কান্নাকাটি শুরু হয়ে যায় I খাবার দিলেও খায় না I বক্তব্য একটাই - ‘দরজা খুলে দাও , আমি বাইরে যাবো ! ‘ টয়লেট এর ব্যবস্থা অন্য জায়গায় আছে, তার জন্যে নিচতলায় যেতে হয় না I তাহলে? তাহলে আর কি - উপযুক্ত মেয়েদের অনেক সময় একটা বয়সে মাথা নষ্ট হয়ে যায় I পড়াশুনা, খাওয়া দাওয়া কিছুই তখন ভালো লাগে না I আমরাও সেই বয়স কাটিয়ে এসেছি কিনা I 😝

আমি বাবাকে বললাম পত্রিকায় বিজ্ঞাপন দিতে যে মেয়ের জন্যে পাত্র চাই I বাবাকে জিজ্ঞেস করলাম - কি ডিমান্ড তোমাদের? পাত্রের মধ্যে কি কি গুণ থাকা চাই ? বাবা বললেন - চাকরি বাকরি করতে হবে না, ঘরের কাজ ও জানতে হবে না, মেয়েকে মাছ এনেও খাওয়াতে হবে না   - শুধু আমাদের জুনোকে একটু সঙ্গ দেবে I এরপর পালিয়ে গেলেও আপত্তি নেই I

শুধু একটাই সমস্যা - বিজ্ঞাপন দেখে না অনেকে মনে করেন ,'এই রে ! অমিতাভ দার মাথাডা এক্কেবারে গেসে !'

We are going to do the responsible thing and get her neutered soon

ছবিতে : বন্ধুহীনা জুনো মন খারাপ করে সিঁড়ি তে

Birds in a gilded cage

The birds in a gilded cage
Have forgotten to sing.
They tell me that they won’t fly away
Even if I opened the cage door for them.

‘We are safe and comfortable,
What more could we want?
We are fed well and taken care of.
The world outside is scary and unpredictable.
Why would we risk it all to venture out?’

They have a point,
And I understand the inertia of rest
They have submitted their whole existence to

But I am a bird of a different feather.
I would not trade my freedom to fly
For anything in this world.

Though there are days
When the storms ruffle my feathers.
And I feel like
I might drop dead from the sky,
Still-
I fly, I fly, I fly.

And hope that one day
A tiny fledgling will see my flight
And choose the sky over a gilded cage.

Us, Together

There are a thousand ways we fit perfectly 

Like the way your lips feel on my lips,

When you hold my hands,

When I rest my head on your chest.

When you can tell what is going on in my mind;

When I know exactly what you are talking about 

Even before you say it.

You intertwined with me -

And the fireworks that happen.

Even after a thousand times

It feels new every single time.

You waking up to feel my side of the bed 

With your hand to see if I am still beside you.

We walked through hellfire, my love,

And came out unscathed.

It has made us fearless.

We are so clear of the path ahead-

We are meant to be together.

The symphony we create is divine!

Everything else is just background noise.

Multiverse

In one world,
I married the first man I fell in love with
And lived my life thinking that I am not good enough
I slipped through the cracks in the floor
And walked on my tiptoes around him
Trying to stay invisible
So as not to arouse his anger
At the unfairness of having to live with something subhuman like me.

In another world,
I made the mistake of falling in love with the wrong man
But I learned early
To never value the happiness of someone else over my self-esteem.
So, I toiled hard to become someone with worldly success.
But I lost faith in love and in human connections.
I guess I lost there too.

In my ideal world,
I waited for the right person to sweep me off my feet
Sure, I made a few mistakes here and there-
But that did not deter me from believing in the best of people
And the possibility that I too could find happiness.
Like a self-fulfilling prophecy
It came to life
I dreamed my ideal world into existence.
It is possible to have it all
Only if we have the courage to believe.

Or maybe I have lived all these lives
In just one life.
And if you saw me
You couldn’t say which one was me living through what.

Book review: Dark Matter by Blake Crouch

Dark Matter by Blake Crouch
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Fantastic story! A must-read for fans of multiverse themes. Sometimes, especially during tough times, we ponder upon the roads not taken, the choices we made in our life that made it branch the way it has. What if we were given the option to experience all the possible permutations? What makes us truly us? What is our real identity without superficial social constructs? Are we just the sum total of our choices? I have reflected upon these thoughts before and this book brought those ideas to my mind again. Our ideal life is with the people we love, and no matter the external circumstances, we always find a way home when we know that. Highly recommend it for both the entertainment and philosophical aspects. Kudos to the author! I liked watching Wayward Pines (TV) and recently purchased the audible versions of the series. Can't wait to read/listen to my next Blake Crouch novel.

View all my reviews

The 10th Annual Poetry Invitational at SJMA

Santa Clara Poet Laureate Mike McGee invited some poets to write ekphrastic poems based on the exhibits of San Jose Museum of Art. Ekphrasis is the vivid, often dramatic, verbal description of a visual work of art, either real or imagined.

My piece was based on ’History of Science II’ by Catherine Wagner in the Gibson gallery.

Take a moment to look at the chromogenic print.

For a more immersive experience, please visit the San Jose Museum of Art.

The library of souls

——————————

This is me-

All my emotions sorted into shelves

Then labeled and archived.

One shelf is for my mother-

Who learned early in life

That the only way a woman could live with dignity

Was by earning her own living.

Her face burned in the summer sun 

When she walked home from the school she taught in

So she could save money and buy us fruits.

Another shelf is for my father- 

Who was stabbed 27 times and left for dead 

By his best friend of 27 years.

Here you can see the memories of my sister- 

Whose existence I don’t acknowledge anymore.

Because I don’t want to explain 

Why I have not spoken to her in years.

The covalent bonds of friendship

Have kept me sane through the years.

Otherwise, 

I’d have fallen apart a long time ago.

And right here 

Is me organizing my thoughts-

All those solitary moments 

I spend overthinking.

Then neatly page mark and 

Color code them in my journals.

But the most complicated relationship 

I have is with myself -

Love, Hate, Love, Hate, Hate, Love

What if I am not good enough?

What if I don’t deserve happiness

For something I might have done

A long time ago?

Then I say to myself-

You are doing the best you can 

In all possible circumstances.

Love, Hate, Love, Hate, Love, Love

Now, take a step back.

Look beyond the wooden frame 

Of this curio cabinet.

(This curio cabinet)

There are thousands of stories just like mine 

(In the corners, can you see?)

Yours and yours and yours.

An atheneum of human stories,

This is a library of souls.

Book review: Becoming by Michelle Obama

Becoming by Michelle Obama
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This book resonated with me because a lot of my own personal beliefs were reaffirmed. For example, I believe that education is a way to achieve freedom when your resources are finite. I believe in speaking for those who are brushed aside. I believe in owning my story and saying it out loud.

The book is divided into three parts- her childhood in South Side of Chicago, her life before and after meeting Barack Obama, and her life as the First Lady. Throughout the book, she has mentioned her insecurities of not fitting in - something a lot of women feel when they have achieved something substantial. When I got admission to my B-school, I kept thinking that it is a dream. And I will wake up pining for a life that I could only dream of. Constant criticism bothers me even now and I often forget that people who engage in judging others often do so to feel good about themselves. Their own achievements too few to keep them focused in their own business.

There are several lessons to learn here. One of the important take away was that all the world saw in 2008 was the first African-American President of the United States. But the Obamas led a grassroots level campaign with a message that made a large number of people turn up to vote on election day. It was no fluke. It was hard work, determination, and hope. It opens my heart to the possibility that as a first generation immigrant, with an unusual name (for some), I too can follow my dreams to where they may lead me. That fear is for another day.

View all my reviews

In love with the sea

The sea is a big tease
It sends out its waves to touch me

I think it wants to play
But it is just its nature to reach out

It wants to embrace the land
I am just in the way.

Nevertheless, I stay on.
Welcoming the rushing waves to my bosom.

Letting it hit me as hard as it wants.
I stay on till I start smelling of the sea.

Exhausted,
Fearing that another embrace could drown me-

Slowly, with unsure steps
I head back to where I sleep.

Someone else takes my place.
And she plays with the same belief.

‘You are mine,’ she chants like me.
I smile as I walk away.

The sea is like a promiscuous lover-
Who gifts you with only heartbreaks.

The beauty of some relationships is that
they do not last.
Because if they did,
They would have killed you.

সঙ্গীতা

আমার সকল কৃতিত্বের পর একরাশ দীর্ঘশ্বাস হানা দেয় বারে বারে । নিজেকে বোঝাই শুধু -একা থাকাটা কি অন্যায় ? একজন সফল নারী কেন পারবে না একজন সফল পুরুষের মতো মাথা উঁচু করে দাঁড়াতে? কেন কানাঘুষো, ফিসফাস ? দেহের রন্ধ্রে রন্ধ্রে সেই ফিসফিস নাগপাশের মত পেচিয়ে ধরে । প্রাণ বুঝি এই যায়, সেই যায়।

এতদিন তোমাদের মনোরঞ্জন করেছি আমার গান শুনিয়ে । সেই ললিতকলার মান রাখ অন্তত । কেন অনুষ্ঠানের শেষে চোখের লালসায় একে একে আমার ব্লাউজের বোতাম খুলে দিতে চাও ? আশীর্বাদ করার ভান করে আমার পিঠে হাত বুলিয়ে ব্রায়ের স্ট্র্যাপ অনুভব করার চেষ্টা করো? কি করে সাহস হয় তোমাদের ? আমি বিবাহিত না বলে?

আমার শুভ পরিণয় হয়ে গিয়েছিল আমার ষোল বছর বয়সে । মনে মনে তাঁকে আমার স্বামী স্বীকার করেছিলাম । তিনি আজ নেই । শুধু তাঁর দেওয়া সুর রয়ে গেছে ।

তোমাদের মত অসম্পন্ন পুরুষ যখন আমাকে লিপ্সার চোখে দেখে তখন আমার ঘেন্না হয় ।এই নারী জীবনের প্রতি বিতৃষ্ণা হয়।

ভালো লাগে একটা নিষ্পাপ জিনিসকে এভাবে নষ্ট করে দিতে ? কি শাস্তি দেব তোমাদের - নীরবতা ছাড়া ?

On Reading

Reading well written books is like having conversations with accomplished people. People you don’t have the good fortune of meeting every day. Brilliant minds. Diverse thoughts. An Oxford professor, a mid-western homemaker, a neurosurgeon from Stanford- each accomplished in their chosen fields. Each with the dedication to finish what they started i.e. writing a book. That trait alone is worthy of emulation. 

Couple's game

A relationship takes a lot more than just roses on Valentine's Day or an expensive gift on an anniversary. You have to acknowledge each other's presence even when you are stuck in routines. Here are a few ways you can have fun together. Feel free to add your favorite things to do as a couple.

1. Go to a Bed and Breakfast for a weekend.
2. Hike on a trail together.
3. Discover a new town together. Have lunch there.
4. Light candles. Cuddle and talk to each other.
5. Have a date by a fireplace.
6. Cook each other’s favorite food then have dinner together.
7. Take walks together.
8. Hold hands more often.
9. Dance with each other.
10. Give each other foot massages.
11. Have pillow fights.
12. Never leave home without kissing one another.
13. Be aware of positive feelings for each other.
14. Make out in a theater.
15. Write love letters and poems.
16. Unplug phones for an evening.
17. Share your dreams and fears with each other.
18. Love without conditions.
19. Face each other and look into each other’s eyes without saying anything for five minutes.
20. Hug.

Ad lucem

Exfoliate your identity.
It is not set in stone.
You can wear it or tear it out into a crumpled mess
Along with other identities that didn’t quite fit you.

Your body, gender, set of beliefs and disbeliefs,
Your most characteristic dogma-
Nothing is truly you.

You die a different person
Than who you were born as.
From helpless to capable.
From darkness to eternal light.

A fish tank

(Dedicated to all those who are looking for a fresh start)

We are all living in our self-constructed echo chambers.
Where our opinions reinforce our prejudices.
Step back for a moment.
Look at the vivarium.
On a sunny day, the edges glisten.

Break free from this fish tank reality
Of skewed perceptions and semi natural existence.
Free yourself from all pre-existing notions.
Things that define you-
Adjectives earned and awarded.

Let the universe come to you.
Wash you to a different shore of unbound reality. Sans glass boundaries.
Give up the false anchors that tie you down.
Swim in the ocean
Not in a glass tank.

Absence and presence

I am too old

For 

This game of

Absence and presence.

Nights of intense passion

Followed by

Emptiness that gnaws at me.

I will settle for someone

Who loves me a little less.

If he promises to stay

By my side 

When I am scared of the world.

Advice to self

Every day I say to myself:

Be brave.

Be fearless. 

Even if you can’t be strong all the time.

The Good Wife

What did you expect I will be?

A good, obedient girl who opens her mouth and spreads her legs when and only when you want her to?

Someone who takes your abuses like she were grateful for any kind of attention she receives?

Your girl Friday who keeps track of your unwashed underwear and unpaired socks?

A woman who becomes more invisible every time you flirt with other women in her presence.

A womb for rent- for you to put an offspring and massacre it if it is a girl.

Because your greatest fear is that monsters like you exist in this world!

Disclaimer: SG asked me to say it is not from my own experience if I read it in an open mic 😂

Book review: Killers of the Flower Moon: The Osage Murders and the Birth of the FBI

Killers of the Flower Moon by David Grann
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

This is an exceptional tale of corruption and systemic exploitation of Osage Indians. The book is probably a tip of the iceberg, and the author acknowledges that. The voice is neutral, yet the horror is so palpable. You are left wondering about the atrocities that human beings are capable of inflicting on other human beings. More than the crimes, the breach of trust upset me. Wives poisoned their husbands, fathers were complicit in plans that entailed murdering their children- all for Headrights. A must-read for anyone who is interested in history as it was. No wonder, I have come across very few mentions of the Reign of Terror in history books. This was an embarrassment. Albeit a valuable lesson that we should never forget.

View all my reviews

Why do you work?

My mom was asked this question- why does your daughter work? Doesn’t you son-in-law earn enough?

First of all, at this day and age this question is beyond ridiculous. Secondly, my husband is more than capable of providing for me. But my parents have supported me to have an education I wanted. That commitment feels validated when I tell them, especially my mother, the continuous learning experiences I have at work. And finally, it is up to every woman to decide whether she wants to work or not. She is the queen of her house and may choose to share the responsibilities with her king as she seems fit. In fact, having a job makes life easier in a lot of ways. You don’t have to explain to asshats what you did the whole day. ( সারাদিন কি করেছ ?)

She invited it

Men who rape and butcher women/other men/trans people don’t become monsters overnight. They get the fuel for their hatred every time someone laughs at their misogynistic jokes. When their mothers say,’Boys will be boys’ as an excuse for their mischiefs. When their Gileadean handmaidens allow them to behave like monsters and get away with it. No, not wives. A wife would have been an equal and would not have tolerated bad behavior. Also, every time a woman says to another woman, ’No one would dare to speak/do something like that to me ever. She must have asked for it.’ The false sense of security is laughable at best and disgusting at its worst.

Are these the first questions that come to your mind when you hear about an assault/rape/murder:

-Was she drunk?
-Were her clothes too provocative?
-Was she sexually promiscuous?
-Did she invite it?

Who invites rape and murder?
Don’t be ignorant.
Read up real news and try to clear the toxic cloud in your head. You know who equally lose in this game? Good, decent men who treat everyone with respect.

The next time I hear someone say ‘She invited it’, I am going to lose my shit.

I know you, I see you

Girl,

I know all your hickies and heartbreaks.
Your secret stash of cigarettes which you resolve to throw every new year but keep it for one last drag.

I know how many times you went to the restroom just to cry at your work because you felt incompetent.

Your alcoholic mother brings home her despicable boyfriends who try to grab your ass when left alone. You just thank your stars that you don’t have to live in the same house.

The jealous friend who secretly hates you but who wears a facade of liking you so that she doesn’t have to give up the benefits associated with you.

The world thinks you have it together but I know how fragile you are and how tired you are to have to put up that show. Just because it is expected of you.

I just want you to know that I know you. And I see you. You are not invisible to me.