The city basked in the mild yellow of the December sun-

Had a story to tell with each of its shady turn.

We walked hand in hand-through the sleepy lanes,

As the sun drew patterns of love down our backs-

We talked of our lives-their whites and blacks.

We painted the grey town with the bloody red of our hearts,

We saw our faces glow with the burnt red ecstasy-

We set forth the beginning of our blue fantasy.

The day turned violet and the maroon hour turned wet-

We painted the town back to its grey,

So that the world wouldn’t know of the unnamed hour-

When our souls met.

The last verse...

Hours of walking and my legs are far from tired-

The darkness veils the shy bride’s heart-a shroud to all the desires.

I walk on towards the land of hollow humanity –

But halt, is that you I see?

Is that the blood of my smiles that stain your lips?

Was that my soul which you just tore into bits?

But much before you were here, I was gone-

Into the land which kisses no dawn.

Much before your sole trampled my tears,

I had bid a cold farewell to my old fears.

Here I was, killing myself within me-

Hiding the rotting corpse in a dusty corner

Which you’ll never see.

So while you were busy gathering your ammunition,

I had already put an end to the endless hours of procrastination.

So tell me, do you see the cold grave-

Lined with dusty tombstones and jaded epitaphs?

Do you read what they speak of-

Of incomplete Marijuana dreams and forgotten paragraphs?

Look into my eyes; tell me what you see-

Do you see broken shards of a mirror-

Each telling a tale unsaid?

Or do you see the remnants of a soul which you decided to trade?

I see you rejoice at having gagged my smiles,

The joy of tasting my blood shines in your frozen eye.

But be not fooled; believe not what will never be

Because when death came, the only one by me, was me.

love to hate you....

I won’t begin off with any courtesy because courtesy’s not meant for b**ta*ds like you. I always thought I could never completely hate a person, always thought that a person cant be completely bad. But thank God, I met you else I would’ve suffered this misconception throughout my life.

You were the worst thing to have had happened to me. If I have spoken to you nicely and been polite and all, God! I’m so sorry for that today. I’m ashamed I ever knew you; I hate myself for being nice to you and feel stupid to have paid heed to your croc tears and other equivalent emotional bullshit.

I know all this doesn’t matter to you ‘coz you are inhumanly shameless. The jerk that you are, you will never realize the futility of your existence...ummm, on second thoughts, it’s good that you exist-it’s for people like you that Hell is still functional. God, I cant even think of a suitable insult for you-you are the biggest insult to yourself...your existence bears a testimony to the biggest bane on my life and reeks of the decaying humanity within you.

If you’ve ever been hurt, good...may it get multiplied by a zillion times. I’ve never prayed for someone’s bad, but I will do that today. May you be unhappy, may all the people who you love, leave you. May you die a loner-may you rot in hell. So much said, I still don’t think I’ve cursed you enough. You’re just a cold blooded sick ba**ar* and you deserve nothing but swears...may a smile never appear on that shitface you possess. I hate myself for being a friend to you, hate myself for standing by you, hate myself for praying for you, but way above any hatred is the one I have for you, for being what you are-a super sucker!

I know you’re not gonna read this...I’m happy you don’t read my blog (hopefully!) ‘Coz I don’t want your fucking shadow anywhere near anything concerning me and my existence...FUCK YOU!!

-Bedatri

P.S: Rijoy, Surjo, Shantanu-since you three have a knack of misunderstanding me, let me tell you this aint for any of you.... (If you’re reading, that is)

of more and more bloodshed and bullets....

Life...it sure does weird things to you. It makes you jump at the prospect of getting over with your dreaded ISCs and then it snubs you down with the “indefinite postponement” of your last paper.

I’m not here to talk about whether a chemical plant can turn around the state’s fortune and nor am I here to talk about who’s right and who’s not. I’m here to say what I think and if you don’t agree, I don’t really mind.

The Bengalis have spent decades sipping tea over the day’s edition of Anand Bazar Patrika and cribbing, “Na e rajye aar kissu hobe na.” Well, the years of procrastination did help, I guess. The state began to be considered to be the “next big thing” with the corporate biggies taking interest. But wait up, the story’s far from over. There goes the “Bangali bhodrolok” sighing over his ABP again-“kono mane hoe, etogulo manusher foshol!” Halt. Think. So do you want to see the state “debhelaap” or do you want the farmers to thrive? Whatever you decide, just don’t crib. The years of endless cribbing, decades of undecided whims has got us nowhere, really. And for the “humane” folks who think we need both –agriculture and development-I guess you could voluntarily give up your own piece if land for the factories, eh? Hurts, doesn’t it? Well, it always does, when the load is on your ass.

I’m not supporting any party. What happened in Nandigram was bad, inhuman and downright heinous. But let’s not play the blame game out here. The police did try tear gas and rubber bullets on the people who decided not to yield, and then came the showering of stones which lead to lathicharge and then, bullets. What I don’t understand is, when you see bullets coming, why don’t you stop being adamant? You wanted to be brave and pay with your lives, and you did. It was a grievous moment, absolutely. Bloodshed has never helped and it never will. The government WAS wrong in doing this.

But then again, our opposition aint a group of the most intelligent and sensible people either. So what do you think they do? Call a “bandh” of course!...and that too when the students are racking their brains for their board exams. It is sad that our “opojeeshaan” is uneducated enough to not know the difference between CBSE, ISC and HS. They’re this bunch of selfish people who want the slightest excuse to demand the usual-“Buddho babur istofa”. Fine, point taken. But who replaces him? A certain Miss Banerjee who looks around for excuses for fainting on account of “chest pain”? Oh, please! I mean, if you know you have a weak heart, then why go into all that shouting in the first place? It’s still a mystery how she manages to not lose an ounce after weeks of “fasting”. All they can do, is call bandhs and beat the pulp out of people and answer bloodshed with bloodshed, and commit a wrong to rectify a wrong. And you think THEY will make a great government?...umm, not really.

All India exams being postponed, futures being played “chheeni meeni” with. And after all this, you blame the youth for leaving the state for greener pastures and for not joining politics! You can’t really blame them. Can you? Look at the impression you people have on us! “You have to be in the system, to change my system”, you may say. But life, my dear friend, aint a scene outta RDB.

College campuses see millions of dreams take shape everyday...dreams of change...dreams of an improvement...dreams of a utopia...but where do they go? They get buried under the shouts, shrouded by the banners and trampled under the spiky boots of the very system they want to change.

What the government needs is a spine. It needs logic and rationality. What it needs is the youth. We’ve had enough of pseudo people adorning the TV screens with their demands, enough of old hags promising to bring better days to the state when their own days are few. A bandh is supposed to be a weapon of silent protest, and not an extended weekend. All the state needs to do is WORK and prove a point with its work ONLY, because years of shouting lungs out haven’t made a difference and it never will. For all you know, each new morning may still herald a new utterance of, “Na e rajye aar kissu hobe na.”....

nostalgia....*sniff*

"Now I see you standing

With brown leaves falling around

And snow in your hair

Now you're smiling out the window

Of that crummy hotel

Over Washington Square

Our breath comes out white clouds

Mingles and hangs in the air

Speaking strictly for me

We both could have died then and there...”

o.k...I am outta school...given my speech, cut my farewell cake....and now? Now what?....

I go back to where I started from 15 years back...unsure of the steps I take, don’t know who’s gonna be the next person I can call a friend....I know you’ve told me we will keep in touch, but can we live those moments again?...that run down the corridor? The hug after the tears? The salsa in front of the loo...well ,umm....no. I will miss you and I will miss me....because I am what you all made me, and when you leave, you take a piece of me with you....

I know I have hurt you and you hurt me back....I am sorry I should have known that you “don’t fight fire with fire; you douse it with water.....”I could have used my tears, I could’ve said sorry, I could’ve ran to you and said that I’m never gonna do it again...I know you were ready to forget but I wasn’t...I was wrong. and I realize that today...trust me, I do...but that doesn’t mean, I want to get back or anything of that sort...I know no one understands but I know you do and I know you just too well..... and I hope, I am not mistaken this time....I know you’re sorry and I know you know that I’m sorry too....but the funny part is that that’s all we can do...just know!!!

Just know that I’m there like I promised to be but did not stand by at times...I’m there when life’s gonna laugh at us again....and I’ll cry with you like I always have....

Just know that I’ll pray so that your prayers are all answered ....I’ll be happy just because you’re happy....and just don’t think I don’t care....because I do...a f*c***g lot!!!....

You will change, I will change but the memories wont...you will die, I will die but our times won’t....should I be sorry. Or should I be not...I know you couldn’t have taken it....

Never meant things to be this way...but then again, my life’s always been like this....crapped up!!!

All the best to all of you I have written about...I wish you happiness...and that’s it.....

“Now you're telling me

You're not nostalgic

Then give me another word for it

You who are so good with words

And at keeping things vague

Because I need some of that vagueness now

It's all come back too clearly

Yes I loved you dearly

And if you're offering me diamonds and rust

I've already paid...."

just another scribble

there are times when life and hell become synonymous...the time is now!!
i hate every bit of it...
i hate losing people,
i hate crying my nights out,
i hate to break stuff at school,
i hate to be unmindful.....
i hate to try and understand when i need to be understood...
i hate to hope that someday i will be heard....
i hate to choose between the most important people in my life....
i hate to miss my cellphone....
i hate to swallow food when my throat has a lump of sorrow forming deep within....
i hate to give fake smiles to the world...
i hate to say "it's ok" when nothing is.....
i hate my life.....
i hate the people who have given me this kinda life......
i hate it...
i hate it all.....
but i really love you .......

incomplete

The eagle soars up to the murky sky-

The winds whisper of times gone by.

The times which had you and me-

The times our hearts fluttered like a caged bird set free.

You gave me a mouthful of sky-

I gave you a fistful of life.

You brought me sunshine in the rains-

I gave you paper boats sailing down the waterlogged lanes.

We held hands as the swing soared high,

We watched silently as times passed by.

We exchanged letters, some secret glances too-

Happily unaware that our days together were numbered few.

We built a house of cards on shores of a silvery sea,

Our days were washed with colours of glee.

“Happily ever after” we thought-

But that was not to be.

A storm passed over our dreamy shore-

Blowing in sands of distrust into our hearts;

A love decayed through its core-

Nothing left to do, nothing left to say anymore.

My wrist cries crimson tears of pain-

Memories bringing in smiles gone pale.

Promises drowned themselves in the red reeking river-

An abrupt end to a tale meant to last forever....

a mouthful of silence

Have you ever felt a knife cutting down your back?

Ever felt like a rotting corpse on a haystack?

Ever wondered what it feels when happiness tastes stale?

Ever lost your voice when all you wanted to do was wail?

I stand here today-

A defeated and beaten Destiny’s prey.

My dry eyes are wide awake-

Disgusted of all it has seen:

Rotting love, estranged bonds, bleeding wrists-

Ah! What a life it has been.

Lone, solitary and beaten out of shape-

The heart fails to keep further faith.

People meant the world, and now they mean a naught-

No one recalls those promises they happily forgot.

Who keeps count, I ask, of what I attained and lost?

Ever felt the insatiable thirst for your own tears?

Ever been a dumb witness to the realization of all your fears?

Ever thought that there might be no future, after all?

Ever lead a life-engulfed with shadows of past-

Splattered all over your heart’s walls?

Bland joys, stale smiles-

The mirage of life-a road which beguiles.

In some hidden alley of the heart,

Amidst some forgotten pile,

A knell tolls and a jackal shrieks-

Through the darkness, a light so bleak.

I raise my hand, clinging on to hope-

Refusing to let go.

So much pain in such little time-

With small joys scattered here and there.

Maybe it’s time now to bid adieu-

Too late to judge whether it is wrong or fair!

So slit my wrist and put on the crown of thorns-

Close your eyes, I will be gone…

a lady out of a whirlwind

my school mag article this year....

I’m a sulk, and a great one at that. But then again, there have been moments randomly thrown up by life which has forced me to believe that, maybe, life ain’t that bad either.

“I caught a fleeting glimpse
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone
I cannot put my finger on it now
The child is grown,
The dream is gone...”

31^st January 2006.Our investiture day. We had to march around a field before the announcement was made, and if walking like a robot with a fluttering stomach and a rising pulse qualifies as marching, I did a good job. The drum roll stopped-and there I was, ready to faint any second and contemplating running away from the field. The teacher walked towards the mic-I prayed so that the ground would open up and I could fall into it. “The last year’s Head Girl-Swati Arora will be handing over duties to the new Head Girl….”-I was sweating in my blazer and the entire school building was buzzing with murmurs-“…Bedatri Datta Choudhury.” Then there was silence and the voice inside my head went, “what? Come again!”-I stood there with an unladylike stare-someone pushed me and I marched towards Swati with the entire school cheering (Or was I running?).

Swati passed me the school flag and grinned. “God Swati! This is heavy!” I said. She smiled back and said something I’ll remember all my life-“well, so is your responsibility.” The following moments were all very blurry with my liver and stomach doing a cute little jig within me.

Moments. They can be the happiest ones and yet make you cry.

Since then it’s been a roller coaster ride - balanced motley of ups and downs.

This little piece of metal on my collar has taught me that life is not easy-there will always be people who won’t listen to you, friends who will desert you at crucial junctures, people who will make you believe that you are undeserving, but at the end of it all, you got to take it all in your stride and walk on, with your head held high.

There have been times when I’ve faltered but this responsibility has made me realize that when you have hundreds of girls aspiring to be where you are, you really can’t afford to go wrong. I think I’ve become a lot more patient and tolerant; more disciplined –rarely overslept and never lost a thing of importance, more conscious- I stopped dancing and singing down the corridors, pinned my hair and, yes, sat with legs crossed and skirt perfectly in place and definitely more responsible-being answerable for hundreds of little imps can be nerve wracking! I’ve come to realize that there is never a wrong time to do the right thing and that it is never wrong to dream, because some dreams do come true. All in all, it made a lady out of the whirlwind I was.

I’d like to thank my Principal and all the teachers who thought me to be capable and helped me through the changes my life was going through. I hope I haven’t let them down.

My heartfelt apologies to my friends for missing lunches with them (because of school work), the non-teaching staff of the school for bothering them with irrational demands and all the people to whom I’ve come across as rude or unkind. Last but not the least, my friends who deserted me when I needed them the most. Thank you. I am a stronger person now.

Almost a year gone by, and yet it seems like a blink of an eye. So many unrealized dreams, so many words unsaid, so many smiles yet to be smiled and so many tears yet to be shed. My mother tells me that we meet to depart and depart to meet. But I live to hope-that all the people I meet in the future are going to be like the ones I met here, under the shelter of this wonderful school.

Thank you GDB for being the most important part of my growing up...

“ What shall we use

To fill the empty spaces
Where we used to talk?
How shall I fill
The final places?
How should I complete the wall...”