A Slice of Life

Gillian slumped back on the large brown sofa, exhausted. The doors of her wooden closet were left wide open, with the clothes hurled outside and spread on the maroon carpet that she had purchased in her recent trip to India. She had spent the last two hours frantically looking for her favourite red woolen scarf. It was not in the laundry bag, which had been turned upside down in her quest. It was not amongst the washed clothes either, which had been piled on at one end of her bed, all waiting to be ironed and folded since the past three days. There was no way she could afford dry cleaning this time of the year, so there was no chance of it being sent off for grooming either. It was nowhere to be found. Her little apartment had, by then, been filled with clutter created as a bye-product of her search. A feeling of defeat and sadness engulfed Gillian. She tried to remember the last time she wore the scarf. It was probably at the party Robbie had thrown, she thought. A lady at the...

Travel, they say, broadens a person’s perspective. Knowingly or not, it invariably pushes a person out of the narrow shells of ignorance, which the boundaries of a comfort zone often bind in. Needless to say, I have been no exception to this rule. In fact, each one of my travel experiences has been quite the entertaining educator, infusing interesting stories with a handful of ‘do’s and don’ts’, making each travel memory a story to be shared. While there are many stories that are best enjoyed behind closed doors with close friends, there are some which deserve attention from the larger audience, for their sheer comic relevance. This one, I write from my Spain travels in the summer of 2018. It all began about six months back, when we started planning for our Spain holiday. We were knee deep in research, visualizing and finalizing the itinerary of our trip. After countless brainstorming sessions, we zeroed down on six cities for our two-week-long vacation, taking care as t...

I said I missed you, Because I did. But you did not have to say When you did not, It's okay. The brook flows endlessly Into the depths of the ocean. But does the ocean ever turn To flow back, To please the brook, say? Artwork by: Tanmayee Chakaborty

I know not, which is worse. The days I spend in solitude Trying to build a wall, Warding off all possibilities Of being close to you? Or those, when I let the wall crumble And watch the distance between us Dissolve in minutes Making me wonder, If this is really true? Artwork by: Tanmayee Chakraborty

Efforts to untangle The wires of the mind Are futile. The more I try to reason, The more it mocks me, In a laughter so vile. Will it be too bad, If I confess, that I've been yours Now, for a while? Artwork by: Tanmayee Chakraborty

I had picked up a lemon grass leaf On a walk through the wilderness. A souvenir, it would be, I thought To reminisce the day's scenic frames.  As I cleaved off the tip of the leaf It let off an aroma, engulfing the woods.  Fascinated, yet numbed by the fragrance, I was reminded of the girl with many moods. Carefully, I preserved it in my hands Hoping to smell it often, as I trudged back; My hands became the leaf, and the leaf my hands Forgetting life, beyond the forest track.  But when the time came, for me to reach home, I found the leaf to be shrunken and brown; All that was left, were traces of its scent, As a memory of the leaf, I could not own.  Artwork by: Tanmayee Chakraborty

I was amidst the lush of the forest, On a silent night; the moon shining bright, Occasionally, nudged by the whisper Of the pine trees; it was a pretty sight.  But even the beauty of a faraway land Could not make the wrong a right. My heart sat quietly in the dark, knowing That it would never glow in your light.  Artwork by: Tanmayee Chakraborty

Come Monday, And we will easily forget The dim lights, the songs The laughter that consumed Us, and the mood that was set. Life will swing back To a routine clockwork Leaving only a feeling Of deep regret. But the blues are only mine Though I wish it was yours Too, but you will not look back As the button has been pressed; Once again, life has been reset. Artwork by: Tanmayee Chakraborty

To The Prime Minister of India 7, Lok Kalyan Marg New Delhi, India. Date: 13.04.2018 Respected Sir, Subject: Application request to buy a licensed gun First and foremost, warm greetings to you. I hope this letter finds you in the best of health and spirit. Let me begin by saying that I am a fan, right from the start when you had taken over as the Chief Minister of Gujarat. I am a commoner, just like you, born, educated and brought up in a corner of this country we both belong to. Needless to say, with your leadership qualities and charisma, you have been nothing short of an inspiration for many dreamers and commoners like me. But there is something I am, that you are not. I am a woman. That should not strike as something extraordinary, especially since nearly 50% of the population of India presently comprise of my gender. I am smart, educated and love to address a crowd from a dais, much like you do. However, in the fate of the recent events, including and especi...

It was a dull day at work for Tani, and she was at her desk, whiling away her time by browsing through the internet. The sound of rapid typing on keyboards filled the office floor, as everybody submerged themselves in the task at hand. The canteen boy, Vijay, was frequently making his way through the maze of desks, serving piping hot ‘ cutting chai ’; a tinkering noise being made every time he placed a miniature glass of tea on each table. Intermittently, the landline adjacent to her desk rang, the sound increasing in ascending order, due to a technical defect in the telephone model. The large printer at the far end of the floor contributed to the clutter of noise, continuously tossing oodles of typed papers. It sounded, as if the printer was shouting “ check out, check out! ” in quick succession. As Tani peeped over her desk, she could only see a sea of bald heads. They were carefully sipping on their glass of tea, flipping through the files at hand and typing out documents, in a ci...

This wait, is killing me A message is all I want to see From you, a random something. But it's midnight and I Am restless, can't deny For you, didn't write to me anything. How foolish of me To believe there could be A spark; some butterflies fluttering. Only innocence from you Nothing more, it's true But still, I find myself staggering.  I fueled this and I Should fast say goodbye Heart wrenching, it's ever consuming. To accept and deal Honey, shut it and seal This wait, it will be everlasting. 

The untamable mind Whirls a storm within Confident, it asks, "Why does it have to be seen?" "Shield it and nurture it Let it stay for the time being Lest you want others to see it And mock for simply existing. It need not always fit in It need not be black or white There will be some, dressed in grey Seeping in secretly, with all their might." The heart is but fed up Answering questions of the mind It knows it is all gibberish It will be over, and back to the grind. But the mind does not give up Coaxing the heart to believe The fancies can indeed be real Until we are dead, to the heart's relief! 

If a man hailing from Kolkata is asked to describe his city, he will perhaps start with the phrase – “ Amar shohor, amar bhalobasha! ” (My city, my love). He will essay his city as a beautiful song, as a fierce dance, or may be even as a rousing on-stage drama. A substantial share of this passion can be attributed to the literary activities that surround the city since time immemorial. The city has, after all, nurtured many a creative genius in the fields of literature, art, music and theatre. These creative minds have never shied away in splashing a varied range of colours on the open canvas of the city, thereby creating a chaos of ideas, feelings and expressions. In the heart of this literary bustle, is the theatre revolution of Kolkata, standing tall as one of the main pillars of its history and heritage. The roots of theatre delve much deeper than merely being a form of entertainment or an extra-curricular activity for college kids – it has been a movement, a game-changer and a f...