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.

Fare Thee Well

The farewell, in pictures. 

The EPIC fail of a group pic.

Them two.

Roses.

BOYSSSS

Some yao-minging going on

Group pic part II

Wherein I squash Shankha to death

The controversial of the lot

Group pic part III

Don't we look like siblings?

Sari love.

Boards are here, wish me luck peeps

SAM B.

Lost Postcard

 I will be standing somewhere you don’t know

I will be looking out from behind the door

You might not see me, you might not care

But you will know, you never have to stare.

As hard I try to break free of you

As hard I pine to finish what we have

But then the music plays and you lay your arm

And I gently slide back into your wicked charm.

Through all this time I’ll talk to myself

Whisper words of encouragement, of not letting this go on

You my boy will sit in your princely attire

While I dread the word, and times bygone.

There will be empty glasses and left over food

And sleepless nights just to fool around

There will be reruns of the same crappy TV show

And poetry that flows without the usual bound.

I wish I was the kind that doesn’t give a shit
But I’m a far cry from those lucky ones I swear
I’ll still care for you even if I don’t want to
I’ll still stoop back to your secluded lair.

I hate you and your adoring face

I hate the fact that I am so weak in my skin

I hate how you make me feel unarmed and chained

I hate how you never let me win.

Still I’ll stand somewhere from a distance

I’ll try to utter words I’ve practiced so hard

You may bet I’ll fail for the umpteenth time

And will be hanging round like a lost postcard.

Picture Taker: Antara :) 

HAPPY DIWALI guys.  

Riaaaaa, Big hug for the Harry Potter pictcha \m/

Hope you guys had a blast.

Love

SAM B.

Sing to me

I remember making this blog firstly, because I felt like writing and more importantly for keeping an account of what all that I've been doing throughout the years.

So, this is something I'd like to remember; the fact that Shankha got a bronze at the International Olympiad in Informatics, 2012, in Italy. And not the fact that he's going around the country riding gondolas in Venice, drinking Whiskey and being all adventurous, not that part no! Anyway when I first got to know about the whole thing, it really did NOT sink in, I mean the magnitude of the success, but now I MEAN the only guy from India to get a medal, a MEDAL, is like fucking crazy. And the best part is if you meet him, you'll have no clue that THIS GUY IS A PRODIGY. I mean he has no air of showing off the fact that he might be the smartest kid of his generation. Just saying. That's something to learn from him. I wish I was the same, but well! :| Anyway, so he'll be off to some awesome college, might go to MIT, so yeah THIS is something I'd like to remember. Congratulations to you once again mate, you make me proud in more ways than that you can think of. :)

Other than that, there is this other person that I'd like to write about. I think I really haven't written much about her here. But considering she is someone so close to me, I want to remember how amazing she's been. And from that I mean from the time I was a little baby girl. Yes, that is how long I've known her. We've practically grown up together. Played the weirdest of games, have been crazy fans of TV shows, of songs, of hotties. We've celebrated 17 birthdays, 17 Saraswati Pujos, 17 Diwalis. She was always there, always there to take me back home. I can tell her everything in the world without a second thought.  She's someone I call when I'm sitting in the loo and am bored to my wits. Now, this person I'm talking about might be the most disciplined, balanced person you may know of. People around the campus DO NOT know how fun and crazy she can be. And then again she's a freakin genius too. ( I AM SURROUNDED BY SUCH SPECIES. Sigh.. ) I love her. I love spending time with her. I love how she is so simple and down-to-earth. I love how I am a little guarded when I tell her about boys. ( :P You know that!). I love how she loves Grey's Anatomy as much as I do. 

There you go, two utter geniuses, but such lovely human beings. Such fun to be with. Yes, I'd like to remember you two foreverandeververeverever..

SHANKHA now stop with the gelatos. And ROSHNI GET A GUY. :P

SAM B.

A post of pictures.

The last Teachers day of school.

5th September. Wrapping up long pretty saris over tired bodies (late night sleep). Teaching classes. Taking in the shizz of the teacher's staff room. Tons of pictures.  Tons of poses. The red roses. The dancing in the class.  The food. The company. The after-party. The CCD madness. The scooty rides. The crazy ass rain. The friends who make you cry and weep and talk shit and then drop you back home. The class, even though how much you hate it at times is so close to your heart that you have no idea how. The moments...one and all.

SAM B

Idiots

The two of us. We really don’t make sense. I talk, you start talking but hell I talk right when you even start. So yes countless conversations which don’t even start but turn to one more anecdote I have to share. It’s weird how I know I do this all the time but I cannot stop. 

You and me, let’s face it we are idiots. We have perfect bad ways to express emotion. IDIOTS.  We are bewildered at how people in love around can talk chat gift presents stare at each other for hours while we find it hard to even say a stupid “I love you” without thinking twice although I KNOW I love the living shit out of you. Plain and simple as that.

 We have a crazy on and off thing like the rains around here where you never know when you’ll be blown away with the things nature can do. Mother of God, we are such plain idiots, such idiots who love to just cuddle when most people would tread on to a new base for the heck of it.
I guess we have gotten used to the awkward lower arm, the silent moments with only low slow drags to fill the silence, the little kisses here and there and that feeling at night when the moments suddenly creep up out of nowhere.
Idiots. Total idiots.

 I remember this perfect silence that we had one time and I had this overwhelming urge of breaking through the silence. That is so random a thing to say but then all I did was just sing out a note loud and clear. Haha, and then the times when I absentmindedly brush my hair to one side when I know you’re looking at me and I try to act as if nothing is happening? The times when I will get all dude-ish and pretend that I don’t need you while all I want to do is cuddle some more. I will try and hide these feelings all the way. And maybe MAYBE someday I WILL consider the fact that you might feel the same. That you too marvel at my clumsiness, my dumb wit and my inability to make you laugh or to bake cake.

 Someday I will find the perfect words to tell you how I feel about you. Till then I'll munch on them perfect pancakes. Funny word that, perfect…

Sam B.
 

Little joys in life: Hammocks

Source: standingonshoulders.tumblr.com

I remember you telling me about the new hammock you had bought. A new addition to your amazing home which is without any doubt one of my favorite places in this campus of ours. Set in the backyard midst the trees, it was quite a charming little nook.

Weren't we excited the initial summer days when it was set up?  Imaginary games on the hammock, laying down in twos while the leaves above played lovely shadows on our faces. The silly contests of picking up clips from the ground while swinging to and fro on the hammock. How the ropes would weigh down after a long nap on the hammock and would take sometime for the whole ensemble to resemble its former taut self.
It was a peaceful happy time, no routine, no aim in life, just swinging to the silent periodic sound coming from the ropes conflicting with the termite infested tree trunk.

It's been ages that we've not put up the hammock, I would sprint out of my chair with no pretense what-so-ever if we decide to put it up today, on this hot summer day. Somehow the summers have an immediate association to little things like these.
Maybe the rising temperatures today, makes me think about things in the past summer when I wouldn't busy myself cribbing about the immense heat and humidity and how this is the hottest summer in the history of Kharagpur.

With hopes of a hammock ride in a week's time ( Take note YOU!),
Sam B

Dadu

I’ve never lost someone before you. So yes, seeing you leave was a complete new turn in life. Had you left any last note bidding your last goodbye, I would have never left but held you close in my arms until your body would turn cold and lifeless like it did. It’s strange how we never understand how much a person means to us once he’s in our life; they say we take people for granted. Yes, I never really thought you would turn into a piece of my memory, someone I would think about in indiscriminate moments, tear up at times and escape into the comfort of ma’s hugs. It doesn’t feel the same in Korunamoyee anymore, like when I don’t see you huddled up in bed talking about how the left front has changed from the old times, how you had huge tiffs with dida on the silliest of things; the way me and tito would cuddle with you and listen about your journeys through Europe and awe at every little detail, how we’d make fun of your girlfriends long back then and dida would awkwardly smile shooing us off. And how about the times when you’d show us your vast coin collection, a magnifying glass in hand we’d go through coins as old as our great-great grandfather’s. Dadu, I haven’t talked to you in a long time, so long that it breaks my heart to even write this down. Frankly speaking, I didn’t feel that sad when I saw you covered in white, crammed into a van with flowers covering the whole of your body, a peaceful aura throughout your face, being carried away to the burning ghats. It clearly didn’t register then. That moment seeing people breaking down to their feet, it didn’t make sense as to why they felt so, weren’t they happy to see you at relief from all the pain cancer would cause?

Now it feels very empty all of a sudden, it took me 2 years to actually realize the effect of your existence. I picture your face as I write this and I see you smiling down at me and saying those usual words, “ titir tui boro hobi ar boro scientist hobi”; the way you’d go over to a stranger and completely embarrass me by proudly explaining how good I am in my academics and how I did this and did that and how I even play soccer with boys and then how I’d run away self consciously and shout at you later  every time; but you’d never listen.

Each week as we drive down to Kolkata; the city feels new. I miss being the person I was with you. I miss your Einstein like air, carelessly white flying around, your rupa frontline vest with small holes all over it which you’d never leave, I miss the kisses on your forehead, the way you’d go about doing every little knick knack in the house, the way you’d look at dida and would make us believe that ultimate love did exist, 50 years of marriage paid true evidence of that.

Dadu, if I could call someone to be a higher power, someone up there looking out for me, that’d be you. Everything else feels so lame now that you’ve gone. I know how hard it is for ma, for dida, for paul mama, for little tito. We love you so much, it’s stupid to even note that down once again, but like I was telling dida we hope you are finally dancing away with hot chicks in the beaches of Hawaii like you always wanted to. ;)

Dadu, For you a thousand times over.

Titir/Sam B/ Your rebellious little natni :)

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This is written for Ruhani's Mindbowing May, check out you'll! 

Thank you for inspiring me in such a different level all together. You have been doing an amazing job being so out-of-the -box with the inspirations. 

Anyway, dadu is my mum's dad, dadu in bengali, dida being my mum's mum. He was one very special person for me and he's without doubt someone I adore, respect, love, value the most if I could say so for an individual

. 2 years has been hard but life goes on. Anyway, it's been a leettle beet too emotional today but Dadu, I know you've got God on the run, quite a perky man you are :*