I don’t only say what is on my mind. I also do it. Usually. Also, am told I have a shit load of crap in that tiny little brain of mine. But then, you see.. I don’t really care about what is said about me or for that matter what is said to me.
I am selfish. And I practice the delicate art of saying doing and screaming in the spur of the moment. Impulsive, they call me.
Sometimes, when its dark, and I alone. I reel back. Although, I hate it! But my brain doesn’t seem to belong to me en. It reels on its own. And it aches me into believing that what I did, said or screamed about must have hurt someone. Well, maybe. It did. But then I said, did or screamed cause my brain tricked me into believing that I was hurt or played for and what I am saying, doing or screaming about, is correct. True. Fair.
“It isn’t. Now.” My mind says in the lull of the night. #@!%. Talk about change of mind.
How can things be right then and not now?
Its not crafty. So it doesn’t know to meander its way out of situations. Straight- forward is for the boring. So my mind is also boring. I try to tame it. Discipline it. Control it. But I am told..that which is, will remain. It doesn’t change much (or rather ‘Grow’). Equilibrium. But then again as I said, before, “I don’t really care about what is said about me or for that matter what is said to me.” So I work on it every day..mostly night rather. When I am most anxious.
It’s quite sometimes. And I’d like to keep it that way. I like to think it is simple. But it’s simply NOT. It’s simply, foolish. Therefore,
I am foolish.
Post by Tanmay Mhatre:
Touching Story ….A Must Read
Answer by Swati Kaushik:
Before everything.. Living in kolkata is like living both in the sophisticated city of kolkata and the old city Howrah.
Living in kolkata is like a zit on Your face. You know what You did to get it the tip of your nose but You crib and complain anyway.
Every thing that a kolkatan goes through. It Knows.. WHY!?
Living in kolkata is a heath hazard. Every corner You turn there's a scrumptious and delicious chaat wala standing. Everything Unhealthy here is Cheap and Easy. We never forget (wherever we may go), never ever forget the taste of the seeping spicy and tangy mix of water.
Like walking in a pond. Although, we have one in every locality (less than chaat walla though). PUKUR (bengali for pond)
Like living in a land of gazillion beautiful, sassy, independent, sexy, suave, (If i can start to ADJECTIFY em ) women.
Like living in the clouds. Like the 1st drop of rain.
Like crankiness for the mess. Like sheer happiness in the falling rain.
Living in kolkata is like living it like a dream. Like a cheap movie in the morning, an intense drama in the evening and like music at adda (Adda is an Adda.) in the late evening.
Like an afternoon siesta. Like a honking rickshaw or the yellow taxi.
Living in kolkata is having a bengaali friend(assuming You aint one) who can recite tons of bengalli rich poems and songs.
Like making a 4hr journey to Durgapur and 4 hr back just to see Your friends down there ;)
Living in kolkata is to be late for a train yourself and cribbing that for a change the train left on time.
Living in Kolkata feels like nothing at all. Not living in kolkata feels like missing everything.
Like the wind in your hair while taking the walk across the rabindra setu in the evening or early morning, or like driving past fast on the new bridge, like sitting on the princep ghat, like walking alone on the roads of salt lake.
It feels more not living in kolkata than what it will ever feel like living in Kolkata.
Like a missed morning coffee.
Like a bird with clipped wings.
Like a face without a smile.
(Everything that when there is, isn't important, but when missed becomes the world.)
What is a fall without a break?-
My melancholy of an ambiguous tomorrow.
Ruthless animosity, my heart pledges to itself;
No joy feels reaching, until balanced by an ache.
Why am I so needlessly needy?
Why do I want a Break?
For sparkles of hope I look to tomorrow.
Why can’t my sleeping smiles lay awake?
Awake in the dark of the witching hour;
awake when, falls, shooting stars in shower.
More in numbers than in count-
have I called to Your name,
In the calm of the night.
Mild my call,
Dulled: Fire draining off of me,
every single night.
And the burn branding me Yours’,
till the end of time.
You change a thousand moods.
You make a million smiles.
You break a ton of spells.
And You cast a glowing smile.
You inspire. Guide. Mentor. Help.
You are that light.. at the end of the dark tunnel.
Low doesn’t feel as low with You around.
You sometimes feel like an illusion.
A hand slipping away .
But what You give, stays. Lingers.
And it reflects in times of need.
You are answers to questions.
And sometimes a few questions emselves ;)
But You help take it all..
You inspire greatness.
You inspire success.
You make me want to fly.
You look with the faith that I CAN.
And I believe I will.
But today. For all those inspirations.
And a very Happy teacher’s day. To a friend. Philosopher. And guide.
“You disarm me with Your faith”