Serendipity

Serendipity is a happy accident, a coincidence which ends up being something pleasant. Remember the John Cusack movie by the same name where he met his soul mate accidentally during Christmas shopping? Yes, those coincidences. Something similar happened to me a couple of months back. No, I didn’t find my soul mate, but a lot of coincidences happened for one day.

Source- www.my-beautiful-words.blogspot.com

Before I begin with what happened on 28^th January 2014, I would like to give an excerpt of a chat I had with a classmate of mine the previous night.

Me: Hey, how come you don’t have any pictures of you here on Facebook?Avik: Never occurred to me to put up any!! :PMe: Have we ever talked at the university?Avik: Err…no, don’t think so.Me: Then how do I know which one is you?Avik: Ah yes, true that. Well, I know you. You will be there at the Literary meet tomorrow at Maidan, right? I’ll introduce myself tomorrow.Me: That will be great. See you tomorrow.

The next morning I totally forget about the chat and go to the university for my classes as usual. I meet my BFF, Drisha later and set out for the Metro to go to Maidan for the Literary meet. On our way, Drisha and I stop at the roadside stalls at College Street to check some second hand books. We browse through a copy of War and Peace and before I decide to buy it, I spot a few pages missing and keep it back only to find a Jeffery Archer novel lying next to it which I promptly pick up. Meanwhile, I spot this guy (who looks like he is about my age) comes up and pick the very same copy of War and Peace. The look on his face tells me he had decided to buy it. Being the good Samaritan that I am, I go ahead and ask him not to and point out the missing pages. He thanks me and moves to the next stall. Meanwhile, Drisha and I buy a few copies of good old Jeffery Archer.

We move a couple of stalls and I find this book with a very interesting cover, a palace like structure with doves flying (I’m guilty of buying book with pretty covers). I browse through the blurb and it seems like a good one. So I decide to buy it. Suddenly, my gaze shifts to the figure next to me intently looking at the book. Happens to be the same guy we met before. He asks me if I intended to buy the book and then goes on to explain that he had read the prequel and had been looking for this book for a while. Another look at him and I knew he really wanted the book. The angel in me decided to show up again and I handed him the book saying he could have it (in retrospect, I have absolutely no clue why I did that). He thanks me profusely, buys the book and walks ahead.

Source- www.booksnreview.com

Drisha and I stroll along lazily and reach the metro station a couple of minutes later. Guess who I met at the station? Yes, the very same guy!! He is right there sitting on a bench smiling and waving at me as he spots us walking towards him. I wave back and we walk ahead and hop on the metro. We get down at Maidan and walk towards the exit only to bump into him again!! I couldn’t stop my laughter and start grinning like an idiot the moment we see each other. He grins back and runs away (looked like he was in a hurry).

As always, Drisha and I stroll slowly towards Victoria Memorial (where the Literary meet was taking place), munching jhaal-muri. The place looked relatively empty when we arrived. We find a couple of seats empty in the third row and hurry towards it before it could get occupied. No points for guessing, I happened to sit right next to the very same guy!!  The three of us couldn’t hold on to our laughter anymore and start laughing hysterically, much to the surprise of the gentleman sitting behind us.

Guy : This is really funny, us bumping into each other.

Me: It sure is. :P

Guy: Okay then, I’m Avik.

Me (suddenly all excited): Oh, Tui tahole Avik, agey bolishni keno? (Oh,so you are Avik, why didn't you tell me that before?)

Guy (all confused) : Err,what do you mean?
Me: You are Avik from the university, right?
 Guy: No!! I’m from Sanskrit College.

Me (all embarrassed now): Oh darn it!!

I turn to Drisha and explain the entire confusion that happened, all the while trying to muffle my crazy laughter. Guy stares at the two of us laughing like hyenas.

Me (to the guy): I’m so sorry about the mess. I’ll explain what happened. It is going to sound totally bizarre but please believe me, that is exactly what happened.

I explain the entire situation and he looks amused and laughs with me.

Me: So what are you studying?

Guy: I’m doing my B.A. in English Honours, 2^nd year. And you?

Me (with a teeny weeny disappointment): Oh, I’ll be your senior then. I’m doing my Masters, 2^nd year as well. (For a second I think, I saw a look of disappointment on his face as well. Or maybe I wanted him to be :P)

The lecture we went to attend starts and we listen intently. A couple of minutes later, the sun shifts to a position where the direct sunlight falls on my face and makes it difficult for me to open my eyes. So, I put up my hand as a shade and try to focus on the session. Guy now pulls out a notebook from his bag and hands it to me to use it instead. I grin and thank him. While the session continues, I open his notebook and flip through a few pages.

Guy (a little embarrassed): Don’t do that, I don’t want you to see my class notes :P

Now , he takes the notebook from me and starts scribbling something on the last page, almost hiding it from me. I don’t peep for courtesy’s sake but happen to spot the first few words which go “I intend to…..” I secretly expect him to show me what he had scribbled when he was done with it. To my utter surprise, he just closes the notebook and keeps it back inside his bag and gets up to leave.

Me: Hey, can you do me a favor? I forgot to get my camera today, can you please mail me the pictures of the session you took today?

Guy: Only if you promise me a treat for that.

Me: Sure, will do.

Guy (handing a piece of paper): Here, write your e-mail id here.

I scribble it down for him and we all say our goodbyes. I realize that I never happened to introduce myself and never got to know his full name.

And well, in case you are wondering, I never got the mail with the pictures. There could only be two reasons-

Firstly, the guy could’ve lost the paper with my email-id; which is sad.

Or second, before he could send me the pictures; he was taken hostage by a gang of robbers. The cops gave a chase. They got away, but he caused a crash. When he came to his senses, he had lost his memory. An ex-con picked him up, mistook him for a fugitive and shipped him to Istanbul. He met some Afghan raiders, who took him to steal some Russian warheads. But their truck hit a mine at the border with Tajikistan. He survived, took to the hills and became a Mujaheddin. (yes, I totally lifted that from Amelie :P In case you haven't seen the movie, I recommend you do it right away.  )

So that’s that. Even though nothing really happened after that, the memory of all those crazy coincidences one after another and all the confusion from the day still makes me laugh. The only thing that is driving me crazy is to not to be able to remember the name of the book L Can anybody tell me the name of this book whose story was based in Kolkata, had this palace like structure with birds flying on the cover?

Let me know if you know the book.

Till next,

Where Rainbows Begin

Life- a beautiful word, perhaps the most perplexing of all; it is a word that’s often misunderstood just like so many precious things in this world: peace, joy, and love.

_{The most significant aspect of life is that it’s replete with paradoxes, complications and contradictions. What is most fascinating is how people can have such a varied outlook towards the same things. The colours of the rainbow seem to represent these differences, they ‘reflect’ the two sides of the same coin called reality. Life, like good and evil, reality and people, is not all in black and white.}   

_{When bright little rays of sunshine embrace fresh drops of water, we see a striking phenomenon that we call the rainbow; a spectrum of colours that can take your breath away.}

_{Each colour can denote a myriad of emotions. Red may stand for love as well as anger; yellow for patience and happiness- if you notice, one stealthily follows the other. Green represents envy but one can associate it with a connection with nature.}

_{Blue is the colour of the limitless sky of ambition while on the other hand it is also the colour of the ocean that is a symbol of depth; violet spells originality, orange reflects enthusiasm and indigo can be said to represent peace and beauty- it is, after all, in the eyes of the beholder.} 

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Good morning beautiful world! Winter in Delhi has been kind, and it's somehow possible for us to wake up early. There's something I've been thinking a lot about lately. A number of my friends live by themselves here, away from family. For some, it means more freedom and adventure, while for others it  means having to find their own way around. This story I wrote is dedicated to those who might make the most of their life, no matter where they may live- but at the end of the day, always miss home. After all, 

*Home is where the heart is.*   

A gust of wind blew across her face as Tanya hurried down the deserted street, her head down, a bag of groceries in her arms. The sky had darkened and it had started to drizzle. She managed to get home before she got soaked to the skin. She pushed open the back door, stepped inside the house and sighed deeply. Although she’d been anxious to return home, now that she was there, she felt lonelier than ever. Tanya looked miserably at the kitchen table, where lay one coffee mug, which seemed to remind her that it had been a long time since she’d had company. She shut the door and was about to put the groceries away when she realized that she’d stepped on something.

A scarlet envelope lay on the floor, addressed to her in familiar script. Her heart suddenly racing, she stared at it for several moments before picking it up, blinking away her tears. She didn’t rip it open. Instead, she walked into her bedroom, put the letter on her desk and went back into the kitchen. It was raining heavily by the time she sat across the window, her hands cupped around a mug of coffee for warmth. Eventually, Tanya opened the envelope and pulled out a pink sheet of paper with words written in shiny purple ink.

Dear Mum,

I know you must be very surprised on receiving this letter- but probably not as surprised as I was when I found myself writing it. We both know that I’m more of a cell phone person. But I recently realized that talking on the phone can sometimes be very unsatisfactory when you have so much to say, and it’s hard to put your thoughts into words. I’m sure you’re thinking of the exasperated look that I used to get on my face whenever I’d see you writing letters to Dad and waiting for him to post a letter in reply, all the way from New York. I do hope that you’ll be just as happy on receiving my letter. I think I’ve finally started appreciating the joy that letter writing gives you.

I’ve been missing you and Dad a lot, of late. But I guess I’d kind of gotten used to Dad’s absence, what with him being abroad most of the time. I love you both with all my heart, but going away to college in a different city has been hard on me, and the one I miss more than anyone else is you. Sure, I miss my friends and teachers, the neighbors and our relatives- but they’re not the ones I think about when I return to my apartment every evening after a tiring day at college. I miss home, Mum. I miss the way you took care of me. You raised me to be independent and responsible, and I am able to survive by myself in this unfamiliar place. The people here are nice, even if some are not. And I’ve found friends who mean a lot to me. But I miss the best friend I have- you.

I wish you’d be here to wake me up gently on cold winter mornings, to walk with me in the park as I’d tell you how my day went, to cook meals for me, and to see me turning into a mature adult- just the way you’d told me to be. I miss the times we spent together, but I know that- no matter how far you may live- you’re always going to love and protect me. I love you, Mum. Thanks for everything you do for me. For reminding me that there’s someone who will always accept me the way I am. For making me strong. And most importantly, for giving me numerous reasons to smile.

Yours,

Sneha

Without much ado, Tanya pulled out a sheet of paper from her drawer and began writing, as she continued to smile through her tears.

*Where your treasure lies, there lies your heart also.*

Facts about Bengalis You Didn't Know

Hello dear readers!!

Yes, I am not dead yet. I'm on my bi-yearly pre-exam hibernation. Will be back soon. Till then I shall leave you with a few pearls of wisdom. This post is inspired from the Some facts about Punjab and Being a Punjabi post series by Bikramjit sir on his blog. (Check out his blog to read all his Oh-So-Awesome LOLarious posts). So here I bring you some lesser known (or ill famed) facts about us Bengalis-

1) Every third person in the state has a name with the "Debo" prefix, irrespective of gender. Debopriya, Deboprotim, Debashish, Debojit, Debopriyo, Debnath - the list is never ending my dear ones.

2) Every child in the house has two names - one his proper and official name that we call the "good name" (first thing Bengali uncles/aunts ask you when you meet them for the first time - "Shona, your good name??" ) and his pet name which is usually something not even remotely close to his real name and serves the purpose of embarrassing the person in public. Most common of them being shona, mona, babu, pocha, buri et cetera et cetera.

3) No meal is complete without a sweet - rosogolla, mishti doi, shondesh , cham cham or any other variant is a compulsory for every meal.

4) Sourav Ganguly and Mamata Banerjee are the universal "dada" and "didi" respectively (literally translating to "brother" and "sister" resp.). And we don't give a damn to what India scores in the match...all we need to know is if Dada scored a century or not. And anybody who has wronged our Dada dear is our sworn enemy. Topping this enemy list is Greg Chappel closely followed by Shah Rukh Khan.

This is our Mamata Di !!
Source

5) This one is a corollary of 4 - Every male you meet on the road is your "dada" and your maid is your "mashi" (literally translating to "maternal aunt")...irrespective of their age.

6) Evenings are not complete without "parar adda" (sorry dear people, there is no direct translation for this word. The closest would be rendezvous, but then it wouldn't carry the essence of the evening "addas") and "telebhaja" (fries and fritters). Oh I forget the "chaa" (tea).

This one is called vegetable chop.

7) Corollary of 6 - Every street has a "chaa er dokan" (tea stall) and a "mishtir dokan" (sweet stall) and of course a phuchka wala (Golgappa stall. Sorry, dear non-Indian reader, there is no English word for this extremely unhealthy but heavenly yummy street food).


8) No dish is Bengali enough unless cooked in high-cholesterol Mustard Oil. Yeah, it is not good enough unless the spicy zesty fervor of the dish makes your eyes shed a few tears of joy (literally!!). And no meal is complete without fish.

Source

9) Every Bengali is a born artiste - painter, poet, chef, singer, musician, dancer, football player, swimmer - either or all of these!! And no, I am not kidding. (Sadly, yours only is the most unskilled Bengali that was ever born on this planet :-| ).

10) We do not buy clothes during sales or on our birthdays like most people on this planet. Our species buys 15-20 sets of clothes a month or two before the Durga Pujo :D

I shall leave you with 10 for this time. Might add a sequel to this one if I come out alive after the exams :P

Till then, bubbye.
Wish me luck!!

P.S.- This post is not meant to insult or demean Bengalis. Everything here is meant to be taken in good humor and with a pinch of salt.

Scribbles

ENMESHED

To be or not to be

To do or not to

Past and present intertwine

Into a grotesque mesh

Leaving me all confused and knotted.

JUST WISHES

Wishing forgetting you came easy,

Wishing just a goodbye would have done it all,

Wishing it was enough to erase all those memories,

Wishing just closing my eyes would end it all,

Wishing turning away would set me free,

From all those memories which look so distant

Now that you're not here anymore.

What It Means to Me

Cemetery: a word that brings to mind a myriad of emotions, ranging from fear to a sense of loss. For some people, visiting a cemetery could be exciting- it’s a place to explore the mysteries of life and death. For others, it could be a place of inexplicable peace. And then of course, there are people who like to visit the cemetery at twilight, for the sake of finding a ghostly story to narrate.

It’s almost impossible for a person to not think of ghosts while thinking of cemeteries. And while the idea of seeing a ghost reminded me of funny incidents from books (this is what happens when you read Harry Potter with too much of devotion; ghosts hardly seem to be a problem when you have Dementors running around the place), I decided that this is not how I am going to think of cemeteries- at least not until I go to one and have a creepy experience myself. I just do not like the idea of having negative thoughts about a place that holds such meaning for those whose loved ones have been put to rest.

Having never been to a cemetery, I do not feel like I have the experience to talk about it as much as others can.  What came to my mind first and foremost, when I thought about writing this post, were the various books and movies which have characters that have some sort of connection to the place.

The first one that I thought of was Elena Gilbert from The Vampire Diaries. A girl who lost her parents in an accident, she often sat by their graves and wrote in her journal, trying to hold on to something her mother always encouraged her to do- write her heart out, even when she had forgotten how to live. It was at the cemetery that she caught the first glimpse of the person who was to help her find reasons to smile.

The next character I remembered was Pierce Oliviera from Meg Cabot’s Abandon Trilogy. A teenager now, she is still somehow drawn to the cemetery where she went as a child, to her grandfather’s funeral. A place where she met a man whose future was meant to be linked with hers, in ways she could never have imagined.

I also thought of Peter Parker, who lost the only father figure he had as well as his best friend, and how the funeral in each film had a much greater impact on me than the rest of the movie did.

I thought of Harry and Hermione, as they set off to Godric’s Hollow, and how the graveyard next to the Church held so many mysteries for them. I remembered the words inscribed on James and Lilly Potter’s tombstone-

“The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.”

There could be a million different ways in which we connect to the departed, and a hundred different reasons why we would go to the cemetery. But while the place might definitely be spooky, it’s also true that, 

“Darkness does not always equate to evil, just as light does not always bring good.”

Posted as a part of Theme Thursday and the prompt this week is Cemetery.

First Impression

When was the last time you saw that book at the store and bought it just because it had a great cover? I'm sure many of you can relate to that. Yes, I've been there,done that. And sadly, I've been disappointed more often than not. I do think that the cover, the name of the book , the blurbs and introduction constitute a major part in the process but then that is not what the entire book is about because I've also had instances when I picked up books which did not have good covers or good blurbs and they turned out to be great.

So, judging a book by its cover - bad idea.

People we meet everyday are similar to books. Similar in the sense that we often approach people for the first time based on face value. For instance, I wouldn't go talk to just any person on the road if I need directions at a new place. I would scan around and go ask the most amiable looking person around. That works for most cases. But, that is not the wisest thing to do in relationships and places which matter.

A teacher once taught me at high school that "first impression is the last impression". Believing her was the worst mistake I did in my life. I've judged people on surface value and regretted the same multiple times only to learn one of the most important lessons of life-

Blogger friend Janaki mentioned in her post that people wear masks and do not reveal themselves unless they are comfortable. I believe that every single one of us wears a mask, a pretension of something we are not. This is perhaps an auto response to a fear maybe we all carry - the fear of being judged, of being taken advantage of or of not being accepted by people around us. That fear makes us behave like a generalized stereotype of somebody who will be liked and accepted. The sad part of the story is that by doing that we lose our individual uniqueness.

I've learnt through personal experiences that not everyone is what they appear to be at first glance. It takes time for people to feel comfortable and start revealing their true sides. And since, I don't know the entire background story behind why a person behaved in a certain way or did something, I do not stand in a position to judge them. A little benefit of doubt does help in some cases.

So as Walt Whitman said, "Be Curious, Not Judgmental" J

Posted as a part of BlogFEST2012. Today's host is Paula whose challenge prompt is "Judging a book by its cover"

The Dagger

Off late, I have been having this very disturbing and haunting nightmare that am stuck in a desert alone, trying to hold on to the earth and I just can't get anything when I try to grab it. The sand grains just slip out of my grip and I am left with nothing. I wake up crying in the middle of the nights with a fear of losing somebody I hold very dear, I don't know who. And the most difficult part is this fear isn't going away however hard I try. There is this unbearable pain somewhere, a very deep sense of loss that I have never felt before, that I can't explain or get rid of. Can any of you explain the logic behind this?

Anyhow I scribbled these lines in a state of semi-drowsiness at 3am yesterday, unable to sleep or remain awake. Please excuse the missing punctuation marks, I didn't feel like adding them when I saw these lines scribbled in my notebook when I woke up this morning.

The Dagger


I carry a dagger
Thrust in my chest
Unable to decide if
I should let it remain
And rip my interiors
Into irreparable tatters
With every movement I make
Or just take it off
And let myself bleed
To sweet death.


P.S.- Please forgive my excessive subjectivity in the post. Will be back with more objective posts soon. Please let me know your opinions if you think you know the answer to my fear.

Love
Swarnali

Lola and I

Having no idea what to blog about, I thought I could share a few funny moments from my everyday life.

I have a 5 year old niece who is very fond of her auntie Swarnali. Whenever I visit my cousin's place, she runs to me with her books and asks me to read out things to her. Here are a few pieces of conversation with her-

Scene 1

Me: Name 4 birds.
Niece: Sparrow.....
Me: And?
Niece: Ummm...sparrow, sparrow's mum, sparrow's dad and sparrow's brother. That's 4 birds.
 Me(in my head): *Damn, why didn't I ever think of that as a kid*


Scene 2

Find the odd one out - Sparrow, Cow, Peacock, Hen, Crow
Niece : Cow
Me : Good, now tell me why it is the odd one?
Niece : Because it is not a parrot.
Me : *facepalm*

Scene 3

Picture of a pig given in the workbook with fill in the blanks option right next to it P__ G.

Niece fills it up as P O G.
Me : That is wrong. Its P I G.
Niece: The name of this pig is POG.
Me : I cannot say you are wrong anymore ( POG is now a proper noun and hence not a wrong answer) . You have mastered English grammar my lady!!!

Scene 4

This conversation will make more sense to people who speak and understand Hindi. I'll add the English translations in parenthesis for my non-Hindi readers.

Am teaching wild animals and domestic animals to the niece. I usually translate the English terms into Hindi and Bengali for her to understand it better.

Me : Domestic animals are those which we pet and who stay with us in our houses or in houses we make for them (this is the simplest way I could make her understand the concept; I know its not a completely correct definition). They are called "Paltu Janwar" in Hindi (translation - "Paltu" = Domestic and "Janwar" = Animal). Wild animals are those which live in the jungles. They are called "Jungli Janwar" in Hindi. (translation - "Jungli" = Wild). Understood?
Niece : Ooooooooo yes I did.
Me : Good, now tell me what type of animal is a dog.
Niece : "Faltu Janwar" (translation "Faltu" = Useless)
Me : ROFL

Scene 5

Me : Lola (yes, that's what I call her), write the spelling of 36 here (pointing to a notebook).
Niece : (writes down) Thirty 6
Me : I asked you to write the entire spelling. This is wrong. It is Thirty six.
Niece : If you can write 6 as both six and 6, why can't 36 be Thirty6? Why is that wrong? I don't understand.
It took me another half an hour to make her understand the difference between a symbol and its spelling.

So that is all I could remember at the moment, will come back with more if I get to remember them. Hope all of you are doing well.

Till next
Love
Swarnali

Final Guest of the Month - Its Jenny Fab!!

Hello Bloggy Buddies,

This is the last guest post for our Guest Bloggers' Month and I have one of the most popular bloggers as our guest for today. Its Jennifer Fabulous from I Know, Right?  If you are a blogger and you aren't following her, trust me, you are really missing out on some awesome stuff. A freelance journalist by profession, Jenny has a special love for Classic Films (same pinch, Jenny :D), British Literature (same pinch again :P) and Bunnies. She is one of the wittiest bloggers I know. If there is anybody who defines "out-of -the-box", it has to be her. You are sure to be either shocked or surprised after reading her posts. Her posts are something I look forward to. Lets get to what surprise she has in store for us-

Hi friends of Swarnali! My name is Jennifer Fabulous and I am so honored to be guest posting on Dreams n Drama. I have been a big fan of this blog for a while.


On my blog I write quite a bit about pop culture and celebrities. Like any other girl, I'm a huge fan of movie stars and rock bands. I've even done a few crazy things in my past to get close to celebrities (such as jumping out of shrubberies, sneaking on tour buses, and jumping on stage during concerts).


But there are some people who take their obsession too far.


Today, I'm going to focus on crazy fans.


Let's start with Twilight. I think we can all agree teenage Twilight fans are some of the craziest people on the planet. And I mean that in the kindest way possible. But there is one person who just might take the title as the most bonkers.

Linda Moore, a 56-year-old woman, told People Magazine that after her husband refused to let her decorate their bedroom in Twilight memorabilia, she decorated another bedroom in the house instead. The Texas woman's Twilight shrine has turned her into a celebrity in her small town.


If you think that was nuts, let me introduce you to a die-hard Harry Potter fan in the United States, who legally changed his name to Lucius Malfoy.

The middle-aged man reached out to Tom Felton, the young actor who plays Lucius in the films. He showed Tom actual legal documents which would allow the actor to disown his parents and move to the United States to live with him in his house, which he had also named Malfoy Manor. Tom has been quoted as saying it was one of the creepiest encounters he's ever had as a celebrity.


Speaking of celebrity names, a 36-year-old British father, Ian Clark, sparked controversy two years ago by allowing his four-year-old stepdaughter talk him into naming his newborn daughter "Lady Gaga."

Unfortunately, the new dad didn't feel any pain after making it legal on his baby's birth certificate. Because a year later, he let the same stepkid talk him into naming his newborn son "Will.i.am." I'm not sure what's worse: the fact that he's forcing his children to have these horrible names or that his four-year-old stepdaughter seems to have complete control over him.


On a creepier note, a 15-year-old girl from Brazil expressed her obsession with Justin Bieber in a more...sinister way.

Jessica Mazon, a former blogger, showcased a special message she had cut on her arm, expressing her love for the teenage heartthrob. In a blog post, which has since been taken down, Jessica wrote about her loneliness and depression and how her love for Justin Bieber was the only thing keeping her going. It is quite sad, actually. I really hope she has gotten some help.


Last but not least, let's talk about two smelly girls in the United States who may just be the biggest One Direction fans on the planet. Two teenage girls recently hid in a trash can for FOUR hours in a desperate attempt to meet the boy band after a concert.

Unfortunately, snuggling in hot, smelly garbage for several hours didn't pay off, because security gaurds found them instead. They never got to meet One Direction.


What do you think of these fans? Would you do the same thing?


If you haven't discovered her yet, its time you do.

Catch ya with the next post.
Love
Swarnali

Guest 12 - Welcome Zeebz

Hellow everyone,

Our guest for the day is the lovely Zeebz who writes at The Daily Ramblings of an Eccentric. She is an amazing person with a totally whacky sense of humour. Her posts are not just funny, they are hysterical. She is a new friend and I don't know much about her. So I let her introduce herself (she does it better than I could have done :P). Lets hear what she has to say about herself ;)

"I'm Zeebs. I work, study, procrastinate, and live. Miraculously- all at once. When my earphones get tangled, I try to untangle them by just shaking it. That is the extent of my problem-solving skills. I'm from New Zealand, and my interests are too vast to name (what am I not interested in? Pineapples). I'm pretty much interested in everything I'm not supposed to be interested in. But to name a few- it involves a man named Charles Bukowski, intoxicating-flammable-liquids, and a Brite piano. The reason I say "brite" because there are different types of ones, each with a particular sound. Also, I thrive on music, philandering, and being a nuisance. I have a pet turtle and a pet dog- the only two constant men in my life apart from the man who contributed sperm to my existence. My current interest resides in a mountain called Angel Falls, that happens to be in Venezuela. Yes, I will be climbing it by hook or crook."

Am sure you have a fair idea now how zany our guest for today is :D :D Lets go for the actual post now-

THE ART OF PROCRASTINATION

It is an art all of us, but the unrelenting busy bodies of the world, have mastered by our high school years. A time at which we discover how truly productive it is to be unproductive. Arduous assignments, preparation for exams- all fade into the background as we find far more stimulating outlets for our time. A popular favorite is watching tv, which somehow is always fascinating despite the fact that there is nothing on but badly scripted reality shows and commercials that last longer than the programs. And then of course Facebook practically robs me of a couple hours each night, which I spend scrolling through my news feed at least a dozen times rereading the same statuses and wall posts over and over again (I really don't have a life...don't judge me). On nights that I'm feeling particularly useless to society, as well as completely unconcerned by how many hours of sleep I get that night, I will frequent Youtube and watch several unamusing videos only to find one that I actually laughed at (where do people find all the good youtube videos?).

Then there's the more creative procrastinators who will make several rounds through their house, raking their kitchen to find anything to distract them from studying (a plausible explanation for obesity in America if you ask me). My personal favorite, however, is using a kind of reward system while doing homework:

*Internal Dialogue*
Good job writing the title page!
...now go get a cookie.
You deserve it.
Wow a whole sentence?!
Don't push yourself too hard now...
How about you take a break and play a couple games of solitaire?

Clearly, with the amount of effort I put into procrastination it's a miracle that I'm not failing out of university (or am I?). But it gets me thinking, maybe it's the rebels in all of us (and by us, I mean me) that tell us to "stick it to the Man" and refuse to do the pointless busywork that is asked of us (or maybe its just laziness). University/School pushes us to become productive members of society. Initially we resist, instead turning to several unapproved activities to fill the time between school and sleep. We then spend a few hours each night reveling in our anarchistic ways, only to later surrender our obstinate laziness in order to finally meet society's expectations at three in the morning.

(Yeah, we're all sell outs).

I almost knocked my head off my shoulders nodding it all time reading this one as I was posting it here!! I do that all the time, procrastinate again and again!! 

What are you all waiting for? Stop procrastinating now and go check her awesome blog.

Thanks a million Zeebz for hopping in for the Guest Bloggers' month :)

Till our next guest arrives!!

Love

Swarnali

Forbidden

Hello Bloggy dosts,

I know I said this is guest bloggers month and only guests would do all the posts this month but I happened to scribble these lines last night and I couldn't help but put it here. (I hope you understand the feeling).

FORBIDDEN

How could it be wrong

When it felt so right?

The love we felt,

The bliss and glory of it,

The warmth that engulfed us,

The joy we knew,

When our forms coalesced into one

During that moment

Which felt more than eternity.

Dear Brother,

Tell me

Was I wrong

In loving you

Different from how they said I should?

Was it wrong

Just because you share a quarter of my genes?

Dear Brother,

Tell me

Isn't love one's own?

And its definition unique for each?

Then why are we afraid?

Then why is our love wrong

And their's right?

Tell me who decides

What's wrong and what's right?

Am sorry I can't write rhyming poems (I envy those who can do that). My lines are not structured as my life isn't structured either. No rhyme, no pattern it is. 

Well, coming to the subject of the poem, its on sibling incest. Yes, it is a tabooed subject for almost all countries in the world. I don't mean to encourage or damn it, the poem is an after thought after reading Tabitha Suzuma's book Forbidden. Its the tale of Maya and Lochan, brother and sister by birth but partners by fate. The subject was so beautifully and sensitively handled that I cried hours after reading it. The poem is about a hypothetical situation where fate has entangled two individuals who fall in love and blood ties do not make a difference. The fear, the insecurity they face is something I tried to portray. Let me know your responses.

Love 

Swarnali

Guest 10 - Its TSW

Hellow everyone!!


Our guest blogger for the day is Ste or The Solitary Writer (TSW) as we know him in the bloggy world. His association with the blog world is very old, he has been blogging since 2007!! A veteran blogger, his followers list boasts of  500+ members. Apart from being a wonderful writer , he sketches really well. From short stories to poems; from romance to humor to social issues, his range is huge!! Head over to his blog if you don't know him as yet.
He is with us to share a post on relationships. Lets hear it from him-

To love and be loved!!

'I love you, but you don't care for me,'

'You don't love me like I love you,'

 How often do you come across such statements from your loved ones? It is disheartening to hear such lines from our loved ones especially when we strive hard to make them feel special. Due to our daily activities we could not spend much quality time with them. Trust me for a good lover such words from loved ones are not soothing. Love is a special feeling. It is present in everyone just that by default it is in sleep mode. Imagine the first time when you fall in love with someone your behaviour and attitude changes. Thanks to the hormones which play a vital role in such activities. Trust me, when you are determined to fall in love and spend time with someone, you should be ready to invest some time for them. I was tramping around a garden near my house admiring the nature’s beauty. I keenly observed certain group of people. They were usually couples, of early 20's.There was one particular couple who were arguing with each other. Initially it seemed that the negotiations could be verbally resolved but the argument grew to a next level. The girl was crying and the guy disagreed to her point. He slapped her in front of small ensemble of people. Everyone looked at her. She wiped her tears and silently left with him. Never be aggressive in love. All that you need is some quality time with your loved ones. If you can never donate some valuable time for your loved one, then why fall in love? At the first step, we try our level best to impress the one we love. That is the time we should realize and think about how much time and energy we are going to invest to this relationship. Try to revert back equally when it comes to love. We should give an equal amount of love back. Problems are parts and parcel of relationship. Love is like a game where each team try to give their equal best. It shouldn't be a one sided affair.

Introspect and tell me how you feel to be in love. When you are committed to someone, be focused on small things which would make your loved one happy. Take them for a movie, dinner, a walk along a beach and do things which would make them happy and invoke a smile in their face. Not everyone is lucky enough to fall in love. Be happy that you are amongst those lucky ones to be loved by someone. If you have won someone's heart then be loyal to them and live up to their expectation. Spending some time with them will not destroy your business or profit for that matter. Make them feel special. Compliment and Appreciate each other. Will you still be the same if your lover is not around you? You will certainly miss them a lot and desperately wait for their arrival. No one would unnecessarily harbour special feelings for you. They like you, some qualities of you and certain things in you impressed them making them fall for you. First try to know if you are with the right person whom you are destined to be. In this materialistic money minded world, it might be certain that your partner might be using you as a mere trump card exhibiting fake feelings for you. A true lover's feeling would be authentic and real. Try to identify how much your partner loves you.

The Red Rose-Diamond Ring test.

Perform this test if you want to know whether your partner really loves you. Ask your partner out for a date. Buy a fresh red rose and a diamond ring for your loved one. Give them both , rose on the left hand and ring on the other. However precious a diamond ring may be, a true love would definitely pick the red rose and then take the ring. This would be your true love. It’s difficult to find genuine love in today’s scenario as I have already told that in this materialistic world people hardly care for each other. The one who passes this test would be the perfect person for you.

There might be differences and arguments, but never let your love fade away from your life. Do not dabble in love and exhibit fake feelings for your partner. If you do, then be prepared to see your loved one vanishing away from your life. You will feel jinxed and cry at your own plight. Never fall and fail in love. Sit and talk. Love is sensitive and one should never play with or even try to play with someone’s feeling. By doing so, you are breaking someone’s heart and that person may get terribly hurt. Talk with them and try to resolve the conflicts. True love lives forever and never fails. Be honest, share views and talk amiably with each other. This might help you. Care for the one who loves and make them feel special. Never argue and avoid fight especially when you are in a relationship. This is not good in long term. Never goof up things if your feelings for your partner are true. In the back of your mind, somewhere deep in your heart there lies a small area where your heart beats for your lover. Too cheesy!! After all it is great to love & be loved.

Finally, I take this opportunity to thank Swarnali for giving me a chance to write for her blog.

Signing off,

The Solitary Writer

 www.thesolitarywriter.com

thesolitarywriter.tsw@gmail.com


P.S. -  Wanted to add some color to the blog , was a little bored of the old black and white theme. 
Do you like the look ? Tell me in the comments.

Guest 6- MSM is here!!

Hello !!

I've been wanting to do something different for a while...so I decided to take a month's break from blogging :P (ah thats refreshingly different!! :P)
But you see, I can't let my blog remain post-less for that long and so I came up with this idea of having a guest bloggers month (ask me how to make people work for you,and I have a million ideas :D :D)
And I got some blogger and non blogger buddies to write posts for me. And they agreed to join in the ride!! I have such lovely friends!! :D
So, I'll be posting only guest posts all this month (except for maybe some occasional book reviews that I have in my hands). And if any of you reading this wants to join in, I'll be more than glad to have you here. You can do a post on ANYTHING. No restrictions!! You have to just mail your desired post to me (and a pic of yours,if thats not too much trouble. You can omit the pic if you want, its optional) at swarnali.1825@gmail.com and I'll post it under your name here.

So today's guest isssssssssssssssssss
*drumrolls*
The supah awesome Pradeeta Mishra, better known in blogger world as the the Queen of the Dark and the Mysterious, MSM!! She needs no introduction, so am not doing any (the truth is I am at a loss of words when it comes to describing her). Meeting her was the most pleasant accident of my life!! We came into contact from alotofpages.com and we gelled in an instant :D She is literally my bloggy sis, always there with the best solutions and the sweetest things to say to cheer me up when am down. Drop dead gorgeous would be an understatement to describe her. She has the best of everything a girl would want, a beauty both outside and inside. And that doesn't end there, she is an excellent writer - a born story teller...am a big time fan of her images.
Ok that is a lot from me,lets see what she has got for us-

“Diiii……see see what I got for you! Magic!!!” Her little brother squealed around her, as she sat coloring her drawing book. His voice made her feel irritated.

“What?” She pushed him away with her left hand making the tiny little kid fall back on his bum.

“I got this for you… *sniff*” He held a rose half hidden in his sleeve. Her heart squeezed for a second then she saw their mother quietly watching them. She started coloring her drawing book again and said, “I don’t want it. I hate roses. Now go!” She screeched with the full capacity of a child of 6 years could. Her tiny kid brother was 4.

“But Di…” He said. The rose stem now wilted because of the rough handling of tiny hands.

“I DON’T WANT IT!” She got up suddenly, scattering all her colors on the floor and breaking the tip of her pencil. She looked at her mother who didn’t react a bit and went back into the kitchen, while her little brother had turned a shade of red with tears hanging from his lashes. She felt angry, really angry but took the rose.

“Fine! Now stop bothering me.” She said patting him on his cheek a little to hard and making a run for the swing in her balcony. Little annoying git. She thought, as she went back and forth, back and forth on the swing, with the rose dangling like a dead skeleton from her hands. Why does everyone love him so much because of the accident? Why can’t they love me? She throws the rose off the balcony.

Silence. Lights. Too bright. Ugh! She opened her eyes to her room with all the lights on and no one around her. Oh God! Where was everyone?! Every single light of her house was ON and the main door was open. Where had everyone disappeared? She remembered that her Grandpa was about to arrive late in the night at around 1 AM and it was 2:50 AM. No one was there! Her first impulse was to cry and she cried in fear. When no one came, she sat down on the swing, holding a pack of toffees which she found on the table and a bag – her Grandpa had arrived after all. But where was everyone? She dozed off on the swing.

“Beta, get up beta, we have to go to the hospital.” She heard her Grandpa’s voice and felt someone lifting her up. She resisted opening her eyes and tried to sleep again in her Daadu’s arms.

“Nooo, I don’t want to go to hospital. You all are bad. You all always leave me alone like this.” She says, unshed tears from last night tumbling over her cheeks.

“You have to get ready. Come, I will get you ice cream. Don’t you want to see Bhai?” Her Grandpa said. Bhai? What happened to him? Her heartbeat was racing as she became contrite the very instant her brother was mentioned. Was he okay? Had she hit him hard? She was quiet all the way to the hospital as her Grandpa got chocolates and fruits for her brother. They entered the room where she saw her tiny brother sitting on her mother’s lap, with an IV stuck to his right wrist. She looked at her mother. Her mother looked tired and sad. So sad.

“Bhai ko kya hua?” She asked. (Trans.: What happened to Bhai?)

“Same thing. Again. Sorry Babu, we had to rush to the hospital or God knows what would have happened.” Her mother beckoned her and hugged her as her brother squealed happily at the Dairy Milk chocolate Grandpa gave him. Dad walked in and picked her up in his arms.

“Okay Beta?” He asked her.

“Noo, my ear hurts.” She said, though it wasn’t true.

“Awww, okay, let me buy you an ice cream then.” He said as she grinned at her brother, waved goodbye and walked out happily.

“Magic! Now my ear doesn’t hurt Papa.” She said happily as she licked the orange candy.

QUICK QUICK QUICK!! His pulse is sinking! Do something! Take that little girl out of here! NOW!

Her brother, something was seriously wrong with him. She was 8 now and he was 6. She heard a Doctor say something about an errant clot resulting from the accident. An accident they had not anticipated two years back. Oh God! Was her brother dying? She ran inside, the tiny girl, past the nurses to take a look at her brother. Was God punishing her brother? Shouldn’t he punish her for she had been so bad to him. Always. It didn’t matter if Maa Papa loved him more. He was sick. Unwell, because of the accident. She promised to God she would understand. She wanted to see her brother. Her Mother was somewhere and her Father was with the Doctors. No one had time to pay attention to her. She ran into the room.

“Bhai? Bhai? See Magic!! Di is here! I am here. Bol Naa…Say something.” She screamed at the pale limp body on the bed as the nurses picked her up and ushered her outside.

“Is my brother dying?” She asked the nurse.

“Beta, I will ask Uncle to drop you home. Your Bhai will be okay, don’t worry.” She pushed her away to someone’s arms. She reached home. For four days, she saw people rushing around her. There was no magic. Her Brother was Magic.

18 Years Later.

“Di….?” She opened the door to her house to find him waiting outside, with a bag and something on his shoulders.

“Bhai??? OH GOD!!” She ran into his arms. The world had come to know, that she had learnt to love her brother….for the hatred was not for him, but for the times, when she wouldn’t be loved or paid attention to, cause of his health. She had grown up and had come to realize on various occasions, that whenever she felt lonely or insecure, he would understand. He would listen to her, hug her and let her cry. She was insecure and it was a tough disease to cure. But he, he always managed to make her smile.

“Arre, why are you crying? See, I got something for you.” He hugged her as she tried to stifle the goofy grin.

“What?? I just missed you! What have you got??” She asked peering around his shoulder.

“Tadaaaa! Magic!! See?” He held a guitar in his hands. He bought her one, from his first salary.

Yep. The Magic is alive – in love.

Helllow and Blessed Be Everyone! How are you doing? I am really very thankful to Swarnali, for letting me dent her Blog, with my random, non-stop chatter. And Now I am looping you all in too. :D Ever had a situation where it takes a leap of faith to do something? I’m sure you’d have. Haven’t you thought in that moment, I know I have to do this. What could be worse? I’m already in the dumps. And then when you look back, you see that you’ve earned a card up your sleeve. Ah, heavy stuff. :D

People know me as someone all about magic, mystery and myths. But life isn’t a Book of Shadows. It’s like Human Brain – not yet completely understood and unraveled. I explore and observe and have seen wonders unexplainable. People coming back from dead with mere will power, people living in the worst situations imaginable – miraculously earning a life of dreams, broken relations healing…. Isn’t it Magic? Of Human Mind? Of our endurance? I believe it is. Watching the moon in the night sky is Magic. Getting soaked in the rain is Magic. Having that last piece of ice cream is Magic. Watching the World cheer for you is Magic. It is after all in the moments you live and love. And therefore, you are Magic and so am I. I hope to see you on the other side. Will you accompany me?

So how did you like the story?? I loved it. I cried for a long time when I read it first, touched a chord somewhere.

If you haven't read her blog, you are really missing something. Head over to her blog this instant!!

Till the next guest arrives!!

Love

Swarnali