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Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Thursday, June 26, 2014

Dear you

Here I am having a sad day after a long long time. I am irritated as fuck, God knows why. I've been sincerely happy for a long time, rarely have had a depressing day. I don't even know why I'm writing to you. Sometimes you feel like wanting someone so bad, I mean let's see how hard is it for me and you to be together right now for a mere five minutes, just these few minutes where I can lay in your arms and breathe. Not feel helpless, distraught and troubled. Say you just hold me tight and say things will be fine, that days like these are there in little gaps to break your pace, to slow you down. Days like these where your past catches upto you and taps you from behind and you fall down on the cement floor with white patches on your knees.

I was thinking about my priorities in life. How I want to conduct my second year. What all I've been missing out on and things like that. And the whole 'not being able to do everything' came running back swallowing up all the amazing energy I had in me after travelling through Karnataka. The whole feeling of being independant, of enjoying and being content with oneself, that just sucked out today. Just one day to break the spell.

Just seeing your face might make things alright. The face, the warmth, the touch. Sometimes I feel like letting go, just laying there without anything anything in mind, a black mind.

Sometimes.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Fantabulous February 2013 - Day Three!



Hello peeps,

This is for Fantabulous February - Day Three,

Today's inspiration:


My post:

I want to wander and not get lost, to teeter around in the unknown.
To sit in a coffee shop and have my ears filled up with a language of an unknown tongue.
I want to stay for a poetry where the movement of the words stir me up instead of the comprehension in them.
I want to walk down cobbled streets, cross bridges, country roads, 
interstates and dirty alleys.
To ride Gondolas and drink up in Irish pubs.
I want to breathe in the smell of cigarettes and change.
I want to travel if only to forget who I am as I fill myself up with 
everything else.

Let's find some beautiful place to get lost,
Sam B.


Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Dance

I’ll dance like no one’s watching
I’ll jump off with not an ounce of fear
I’ll run like the wind is after me
I’ll sing like there’s millions waiting to hear.

The moment the lights are on
The blood red curtains draw away for me
The curious stares make me wobbly beneath
I leap in the air, let myself go free.

The music engulfs my every sense
I flutter away through its sublime line
Starting slow I sway through the tune
My body is light, the stage is mine.

I command every sight in front
They are enticed by my Pirouette’s spot on
The music takes its beats a step ahead
One more leap, I’m off the ground.

I fall hard, I hear a crack
The audience is on their feet
The music stops, a sudden shriek
A child’s cry cuts me off my beat.

Perturbed, I run for the beat
I cling on to it in beautiful grace
I hate the child with the golden locks
The tune, the song is back in place.

The stage is red, circles of red
The song is playing in my head
One more jump, I land perfect
I am euphoric of my pirouette.

I don’t remember the curtains close
I don’t remember the end
Did I amaze the crown with my grand jete?
I hope this time my legs weren’t bent.

I hope daddy held me in my arms
Whispering how proud a father he was
I hope he would still buy me those new ballerinas
Like he promised to me, I hope he does.
It’s strange how all I remember now
Is the music going away, too far away
Where did I go wrong, what did I miss
My mind won’t tell me, I hit rewind and play.

I wonder all this while I lay on bed
With a lost leg, and a dead heart
I had danced till my last fall down
I had danced from the very start.
I had danced when the lights were on
When shutterbugs kept making it hard
I had danced till all I saw seemed dark
I had loved every move, every nick, and every spark.

-----This has been lying ignored in my drafts for a long time now, high time I publish it here.
I've always loved dancing, hope you can connect to it even if you are a non-dancer. But who doesn't love to secretly dance when no one's watching? I bet you do.
Keep shaking it senoras ;)
SAM B.

Monday, April 30, 2012

The random one liner post!

17 year old in 2 hrs.....bursting from inside happy!!! Is it normal to feel so elated on one's own birthday? Call me crazy! No big parties this time, keeping it low I guess. LOADS of BnR, food, coke and the best of people. Oh and CAKEEEEEE





Happy BDAY meeeee, 17 kisses to you!

SAM B

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Fantabulous February - DAY 14!

3rd post of the month, not worth scrutinizing me okay? Peace hain! :P * @ roshni wink wink *

Well, as today is THE Valentine's day, what are your plans?? Nil, Antara andddd Remyaaa, I hope you guys are NOT studying your asses off; are your valentines your 6 kg books or is there this pwetty boy waiting by the door with a limo parked by your house and a flower held behind his back. I'm going for the latter! :P

As for me, I had this amazing start to V-day. Starting with helping Golu with some gift picking, guys are so screwed up as far as WHAT to give :P, then we went off to the local sweet shop which thankfully had not wrapped at 9.30 pm and bought chocolates and malpoa. AHAHA! There were shops with heart shaped PINK, RED pillows, balloons, flowers everywhere. Crazy times in this little town of ours. And you should have seen the cards, they were huge...I mean for some girl ( Let's consider hypothetically this girl being someone who has to disclose her relationship status from people at home ) if she would have got something that huge would have a hard time shoving it at some place in her room.

Anyway, then we bought 1 rose and 2 name-not-known-2-me flowers and this is the bestttt part, we ran back home and called our moms and golu's grandma to the little space we have in front of our house and presented them flowers. Cutest thing ever...then you know about overwhelmed bong moms, how they squeeze you soo hard with their hugs that you can't even hug them but instantly have your hands up to the sky crying for help then those sloppy kisses OH GOD.

Statutory warnings: Beware of bengali aunties moms whatever if then get so damn happy with you, YOU then have to run away from them, don't wait for the "aay ekhane shona". :P Thank me later! Golu, amazing start to Valentine's day!
And I know this one day concept of spreading love and all is damn absurd, but its nice to be pampered with chocolates maybe or getting this book that you wanted for ages wrapped in a beautifully handmade paper bag or watching this big run of rom coms back to back on HBO. ( If you have nothing else to do, checkout for the movies)

I'm thinking on the lines of watching HBO, with a bucket of chocolate ice cream, chilling with friends OH OH OH before this completely evaporates out, I AM OFF FIITJEE FOR 2 whole weeks. I could shout out my love for life off my terrace, HAPPY DANCING throughout the day.

For the ones alone this year :
FUNN eh?
And to the others getting all decked up for theeee night, dahlingggggsssss this one is for you!

A little Gleeee for you!
And for people like meeeeeeeeeeeeeee

BEST EXCUSE MANNNN :D

Anyway whichever one you are, go spread the pyaar, and hope you have a lovey-dovey-stinkingly-mushy-making-people-around-u-squirm day
Kisses from me and the besttt cupcakes evaaa



SAM B



Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Pujooooo

Dear "people who make me happy",


Durga Puja is a few blocks away and I can't stop feeling festive even though the beastly half yearlies are going on. 


Durga Puja for me is: 
  • Waking up one to the intoxicating fragrance of shiuli phool.
  • Doing the rounds of Pujor bajar ( shopping for the pujas ) and asking the "Pujor Bajar sesh?" question to almost everyone I cross paths with. 
  • Craving for months to wake up to a sunny Autumn morning with the sky sketched in white
  • rolling in bed to the mellifluous chants of Mahalaya, baba shouting to me "shuru hoye geche; wake up" (It's started wake up!)
  • Wearing a new dress everday for those 4 days. 
  • pandal-hopping till I cross my 100 pandals mark, and not even complaining about the shoe bite.
  • Listening to the dhakis beat and dancing along to it.
  • the unlimited paani puri and the little detours to look for a shop selling mountain dew to boost me up for the long day ahead. 
  • The countdown to mahalaya, the star ananda superstar megastar, the annual meetings with ISHA
  • The traditional bengali food - you know the shorshe ilish, potol chingri and all.
  • Durga Puja for me is a reminder that you don't have to pour yourself into books, tuitions, and stupid exams for four whole days. Every year. ( class 11 makes you say these things. I kid not.)  That every woman looks stunning on Dashami after a vermillion bath and that if you go touch the feet of your elders you get 50 ruppee notes that end up to be a pocketful of money.
Here's sharing you a picture of last year's pujo, this was some pandal at kakurgachi.


Durga Puja '10

Watching every pandal with a different theme, pandals so awesome that you stand in awe and wonder how the hell do they do these in such short a time. 
There are the traditional pandals which stick to the very conservative pattern they have been following for years, big pandals, the thakur exactly the same each year. It's this similarity that make them even more special. 

Then there are the pandals which bring new things, new ideas, mind boggling ones that make you go wow. How in a few months time a total replica of the Egyptian pyramids go up, we have no idea...all we do is stand in queues for hours to catch a glimpse of the creation.

Hope you have an awesome puja as I myself travelling my way through Ladakh. It will be a good one. :) 

Till then, in the words of my grandmother, Dugga Dugga.

SAM B

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

To the special two :) I love you guys!


  • Where the rainbows end

  • I live in your arms
  • I dream of your warmth
  • I dream of the arch formed when you bend..
  • I dream of you, where the rainbows end.

  • Your eyes full of love
  • Your guitar strumming hands
  • I dream of a life that we could spend
  • If only we saw where the rainbows end.

  • I'll dance like I'm crazy
  • I'll shout out my love
  • I'll give you all, all I didn't know to lend
  • To you, for you, where the rainbows end.

    I've known you for ages
  • Your my bestest friend
  • There's no other two who can follow our trend
  • I know because we live where the rainbows end.


    • Where the rainbow starts and where the rainbow ends
    • We'll leave footprints raw after every bend
    • Somewhere over the rainbow, our hamlet will reign
      With dreams that we'll dream of, where the rainbow ends







    PS: If you guys haven't already stumbled upon this beautiful book, please take the effort to do. I have a copy of ebook, so send me your email,,if your interested.

    Where rainbows end aka Love Rosie
    Cecelia Ahern


    MUCH MUCH LOVE
    SAM B

Saturday, April 16, 2011

My drug : Football


I’ll tell you about what one thing I love a lot. There’s this thing called football that makes me ecstatic to the core.

How did it happen? Well, I have vague memories. So, to save the memories….I’m pinning them down.

I was always a sporty girl. We used to play in our neighborhood every evening. Football like kids…I remember scraping my legs everyday. This was with Arpita, Ankita…I remember scoring goals and Arpita was very good at it. I would go regular but was never crazy about it.

Now about my school St. Agnes that time, I remember something like 10% of my school years. I remember being a class leader and doing chores…being a teacher’s pet and stuff. Doing dances, and getting ready for a dance, missing classes for rehearsals. And I don’t remember playing at school or stuff. I remember so less of St. Agnes because I didn’t have fun. And didn’t have moments there to cherish and stuff. I HAVE to draw a conclusion like that because seriously I remember so little.

Okay then came this transition….I shifted to this new school, DAV Modal School. So, the first thing I was excited about going there was that Roshni was in the same school and at that time she was this huge idol. You know how you had big didis as your idols that age. Well Roshni was mine in class 5. J Well, that time I never knew that I’d love this school with all my heart, I never knew I’d make the best group of friends, I’d never knew that I’ll start playing football and fall in love with the game. But it happened. Thank God it did.
In DAV I found this new freedom and took it all in. We had a group of friends me, shankha, golu and anirvan and then I had Mona and Dipanjali as great friends…no wait, I won’t drift away from my topic.

In DAV the guys would play football every games period. Every. I would look at them and watch their matches. Playing a little football every evening at our para, I figured I wasn’t that bad in comparison to them. So I started begging Bera sir to give us a ball, so we could practice simple shots, play among ourselves. That time Mona was my partner in crime. We would rebel and whine until and unless the ball would come to us. Hence we practiced, most of the girls. However idiotic we played, we practiced and I kind of made up my mind to play better and better, I had to get in the guys game. Had to. I had to fight for it.

I got better I guess, could hit the ball high and stuff. The guys would then mock and pass comments. They’d say something like “Loser, that girl plays better than you. Feel ashamed” to some guy who’s just plain bad at playing.

So as the days progressed, we kept practicing and it was high time to fight for mutiny because we actually played better than some of the boys who were allowed to play. So it was unfair that we wouldn’t be allowed to.
So on this bright summer day, famous on the history of DAV, we girls rebelled with our little minds and fought for justice. The fight followed tears for little girls were told things that didn’t make sense to them and were said that they were weak, that guys were made powerful ( idiots ) and girls were fragile and feeble. I mean thinking about those comments now pisses me off with the same anger like those days. We didn’t lose hope….fought on with the Gandhian philosophy of not being violent and striking at the conscience of the opponent. :P HAHA. Anyways I remember not 1 person helping us in our little struggle. But once instance suddenly pops up. This was Shelley madam. We were sitting in our class, me and mona…morose and down and helpless. We had fought a lot with Bera, the princi and were tired of the sick society, the sick people around us. Then Shelley madam comes into the class for something and asks us what’s happened. That was the time we were so tired of everything around, that we spoke our hearts to her. I remember she said something like, it’s never easy to start something new, and that this society has always been impartial to guys and that at her time it was even a lot harder. She said that we had to fight along and it was of no use sitting down and feeling doomed. That there kicked our spirits and even now when I look at her, back of my mind I remember those words. I am so thankful to her even though we make fun of her, but I respect her for what she had done. So many things have happened since. This thing is making me nostalgic, my god.

So we fought with arguments to arguments, cursed the men around us, practiced even more.
Bera Sir let us play one day. But we knew this was some kind of an attempt to cool us down. We played that day, the guys weren’t helping, didn’t let us in the team like a team.
Bera comes us and tells us something like “this is not meant for you. Why don’t u stick being a “girl”? It was soo sad you have no idea. I still have the urge to kick that guy hard in his balls thinking about whatever he had done and said to us that phase. Fat old guy.

Anyways, we fought and fought and finally somehow the class guys saw that to stop this entire trauma in the games period, they had to say yes to us playing. Because our rebel was somehow disturbing there game. And this time the whole bunch said yes not because they wanted to but because they had to.

Anyways we had won the chance to play, but still had to win the team. That happened when I started playing well. I remember I was a pretty strong girl physically and could kick the ball pretty hard. So it wasn’t that hard for me to come up with surprises mid way through the match.

You know why the guys and girls didn’t patch up those days…it was because of how we thought about things, the guys would think girls were nuts, girls would think the guys were idiots. And there was this huge competition between the sexes.

I started playing better day by day, and thank god started making friends with all the guys. I remember the other girls other than monalisha didn’t stick longer to playing. Monalisha would be there.

Then came the point where I started playing with them in every game not only football, I would hang around with them and they would be my friends. Monalisha was the only girl in the same group. Progressively, being good at sports and all, beating the asses of some guys….I would be stereotyped as a guy. However stupid that may be. :P

Anyways football became a very important part. I would play in the evening with the same group. The best part now was that the guys would take me as a teammate. Would let me play in the important matches, the inter class ones.
Meanwhile I had bought a football, my parents finally said yes to my long cherished desire of owning one.


Seeing the same group that would protest against me, now accepting me as a good player and fighting for me if some team would disagree to play in a match with a girl in the opponent, that would make me feel so proud.


The seniors coming up to me and saying things like “You are the only representative of us girls fighting out with the guys”, the seniors coming up and asking me to give them lessons in soccer. These would make me proud.

And then came Nesha. I remember teaching her football in my own small way. She would join me and Mona in football. I even remember her scoring a goal. It was amazing. That made me proud again.

Meanwhile I became a good player in the team, would shout out commands and stuff, would score goals, and was a player the team needed in defense. We would skip classes, bunk them and run out to play. Now the whole school was fine with me playing and thought that I somewhat a good palyer. We even started playing volleyball and I was good at it. So latterly I would hang out with the guys and talk to them the whole day. They were my friends.

Class 10 got me playing my best game. This year I learnt a lot of football. And now I’m pretty good at it. Class 10 gave me the best of friends who I love a lot and they love me back. And football became a part of my life.  We started playing with other schools….it was all so normal now. And now when I think about the whole fight, it’s incredible. Makes me feel I did SOMETHING good after all.

Now when I look at these girls from class 6 or 5, I’m not sure which class, who play in their class team, I feel the proudest. As if our fight had some meaning. And then they come up to me and go giggly and say things like “aap humlog ko thoda sikhayenge” They tell me when they have their games classes and would very seriously ask me if I would be free that time. I feel the proudest.

And even though I want to get training somewhere because I lack at the technique, but you don’t get whatever you desire. I mean where would I get so much field to play on if it wouldn’t have been for IIT. It’s never struck me that I want to play to achieve stuff, I’ve always wanted to play soccer because I love doing it. I love defending. I love stopping goals. I love scoring them. I love how I have this huge adrenaline rush seeing the attacker chase with the ball. I hate it when I play bad. Yes, I take this whole thing seriously. And that’s only because I love doing it.


It has been a long story and there has been so much more than what I’ve mentioned here. And the best thing is that I still have the same rush of excitement in me thinking of playing football. The best thing is that there hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought about football. The best thing is that I long it to strike 4 pm now so that I can rush off to play. The best thing is that I get to see such awesome players in my contemporaries who inspire me and push me to play better. There’s so much more to say….and as I ponder on those days and ask the guys if they remember, they say they do. And there side of the story is a whole new thing. I’ll leave for anyone of them to type it down. HEHE. Just kidding. And here’s what’s the…

Bestest bestest part, the game is ON guys. 4 pm today. Let’s hit TATA steel.

LOVE LOVE

SAM B 

----Wrote this a week and a half back. When I started writing it I just wrote it in one flow and got so overwhelmed in the process. That's only because this whole thing is a big part of me. Hope you enjoyed...

It's awfully bad. Had to do with my webcam. And you can't even see me. And had to keep it short because of the video size restrictions :P 

Anyways thanks for stopping by, 
SAM B

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Goodbyes

It's hard to saw goodbye to a class, a batch that I've spent 5 yrs of my life with. But we can't help it. Things have to go on. People have to go on to places.

Through all the going aways and goodbyes and teary hugs, we'll pray that someday we'll bump into each others and align our paths to the same point.

I'll miss ALL you guys, those of who are to go to places this yr. And the others who'll be here, I'll miss you as much, if you all were to go. (someday that's going to happen i guess).

To all of you....have an awesome future ahead. Rock your pants off! And take care...and all hail our batch!

We've been the naughtiest, the most united, the funniest and the awe-freakin-somest batch!!

Love you all
SAM B

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

He ambles along our square

He ambles along our square

Everyday at 4.30 in the evening we play football at the field in front of Shankha’s.

Earlier, there would be a gang of two entire football teams with something like 22 players playing, chasing after the ball, practicing passes, dribbling, playing matches. But now, these days, there are just 5 or 6 of us running around in this rocky dusty yet large football field of ours.

You can find grass patches here and there, but at very few places; so it really hurts our feet every time we run over a rock or if we fall down and skin our knees. In spite of all that, this is our everyday spot, our own playground.

I must say we are pretty regular. We try to make it a point to give some time to “play” every single day. There are times when we turn up to play late and there are days when we skip playing and instead bicycle around the campus. However, everyday without a miss, I find one boy, medium height, striped shirt with trainers on, with his father at our playground. Everyday. It’s been a year. Almost.

He has misty eyes and his stance is sluggish, controlled and disabled. He holds on to his dad’s tailor-made cotton pants and takes one step at a time, traveling the length of the field while watching us play.

I wonder what he thinks of because his eyes say so much. They stare as if they are themselves pages of an open book, sucking all the spirit life has to offer. I know he thinks different; not the usual same way we do. I wonder if he feels the same way as we respond to emotions. I think he has bigger ideas in mind.

The way he clings on to his dad and the way his dad has this protective arm around him, although he does let his son try to walk without any assistance, makes me wonder if it’s that hard for him to go on as it looks?

Everyday while we are busy playing our game - cheering, celebrating, hi-5 ing after every goal, swearing on God’s name how awful we play after every mishap, I turn behind and watch this little friend talking to his dad, walking like he does and also being the most attentive spectator of our silly small game.

I have never talked to him and I also have no idea what situation he is going through; but every time I bid him a ‘hi’ or ‘bye’, I feel like I make him much happier because the way he smiles his warped smile – it is the cutest thing in this world. Moreover, the way he says a sloppy ‘bye’ to me, tilting his head to one side, with his mouth drooling all over is the purest form of love!

I think he has lots to offer and is a spirited little soul and tomorrow when I’ll watch him go, treading slow and careful measured steps, with his endless thoughts blurting out from his twisted mouth, I will deeply crave to sometimes take a break from my game and walk with him and hear his mind out and laugh with him about the things he feels are funny, and get scared at ghosts and will love to hear about the great War of Independence in 1947 when the Indians got freedom, from his dad.

Till that day, I will keep on staring and wondering….


Shambhobi Bhattacharya
21.2.2011


{Wrote this yesterday. This was an instant thing I felt. Hope you like it.}

Love,

SAM B