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Calcutta: The Love and Hate Relationship

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The maroon-red bus halted with all it's enormity catching me unaware and overwhelming me at the same time. A lanky, dark and handsome looking young man dashed out of it and shouted nonchalantly "Harrah-Harrah-Harrah" followed by a few more mouthfuls of chewed and spitted out syllables that refused to find any coherence in my ears. He looked at me, questioning my intent. For him the only intent mattered was whether I wanted to board his already overflowing bus, beyond this intention all the human form was lost in oblivion for him. I froze and stood still, unable to move, caught in a self created chamber of claustrophobia.

This repressing feeling of in a constant claustrophobic state first hit me when I set my first foot out of the train, into the Howrah station. I felt my walls closing in and crashing into each other creating a powdery and flaky wave of concrete. The sole reason I was in the city was because of a last name bestowed on me before my birth and the family th…

Of Solitude

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Heart wants what it wants and there is no two ways about it. You can fear this want, loathe it with all your brute force, drive it away with the incessant noise that fills your room ever flowing from your window from the pandemonium of the outside world- but it still comes back to you. A moment of silence and the simmering of desires returns to scorch your soul, burn it and leave marks on it. Solitude is therefore the most blessed and the most loathed drug for the soul.

A masochistic soul will always crave for solitude. There is a certain pleasure in the pain of desires, a certain thrill in reliving the hopelessness of the truth in scratching out those pink tinted lenses and seeing the world in its true naked form, free from all the sugar coated, filtered realities. Truth be told we all evolve and evolution, just like birth is a painful process. We writhe our way out of the womb and then into this world - the writhing, the floating into oblivion, the struggle to breathe, the desire t…