Winter in Germany

It's very very cold in here. Dragging the lazy body out of bed, dressing up (sadly, bare essentials during this time mean a minimum of two sweaters, thick overalls, winter jacket and gloves) and coming to the office with frozen ears and the nose seem like a painfully long process. Winter gets this wintry in Germany. And it stays FOREVER. However, there are reasons, more than one, why it still tops the list of my most favorite season. 

In Calcutta, winter meant snuggling up to the mother and the brother under one blanket, skipping baths, nolen-gurer sandesh and pithe-puli (Bengali desserts made from date palm jaggery and milk), joynagorer mowa, picnics with the family and relatives, steaming cups of Bournvita/Horlicks with sunshine on the shoulders, old over-sized sweaters with long sleeves that covered the palms, Park Street and Esplanade during Christmas, a visit to St. Paul's Cathedral on the 25th, surprise gifts from parents, yummy food, book-fair, adda with best friends in Maidan, school reunions, and tidbits of romance thrown in here and there. 

In Germany, winter is different. For one, it is extremely cold, with the temperature hovering somewhere around -15 degrees for the most part. For two, the extreme coldness is accompanied by snow. Snow is beautiful though. One afternoon you look out of the office window and suddenly notice thin light snowflakes falling from the sky and accumulating on the grass. Within minutes, everything turns white. You run outside in the freezing cold, and let the snowflakes fall on the hair. The joys of experiencing first snowfall, you realize with a grin. Two years, exact same experience both time. No signs of boredom still.

Associated with snow, also comes alpine skiing and other winter sports, for people who are bravehearts and not scary-poos. However, I have figured that I do not belong to that category, and therefore shall not write more on this.

Then there are these Christmas markets that marks the advent of Christmas. They are very popular in Europe, more so in Germany, and also a major contributing factor to my love for winter. These are usually street markets held in the main city squares, where one finds decorated open-air stalls selling hot food, mulled wine, roasted nuts, traditional gingerbread hearts and other seasonal items. In bigger Christmas markets, one can also find a variety of mind-numbing rides, traditional song and dance performances by the locals, innumerable decoration materials and that mouth-watering smell of baked cookies and crêpes in the air. 

(The above picture is taken directly from Wikipedia. If you search for 'Christmas Market', you'll get this image. This is in Jena, the place where I live. *feeling-proud* moment. The rest are from Berlin).

Then comes the New Year celebration. In Germany, it is huge, and very loud. The day is marked by fireworks and crackers, alcohol, making toasts and never-ending parties. Every house is decorated, every corner and tree lighted up, with happy faces everywhere. Diwali in India, to a great extent. 

On a personal note, however, winter means more- frequent parties at office, lots of glühwein, gifts from secret Santa, trips to local cathedrals, indulging in hot desserts and cakes without guilt, and a relaxing time with the guy(s). But then, there's one more reason why winter happens to be so special- it is that time of the year of going HOME :-)

The unknown

There are these moments in life, which I call "groping-for-the-right-word" kind of moments. This was one such. A moment of wordlessness.

I found this while strolling down a tiny deserted alley in Porto, Portugal months ago. I was with a friend, and this was the last day of our five-day trip. It wasn't the best of weather that day, and we were desperately hoping that the sky would clear soon enough to let us go to the beach, as planned. When by early afternoon we figured that all our hopes of enjoying the Portuguese sun had been destroyed, we decided to not let the disappointment dampen our spirits and take a walk around the city instead. After a while, hunger struck, and we started looking for an untouristy place far away from the maddening crowd where we could eat 'traditional' Portuguese food. That was when this happened. 

We took a turn and there it was. Every house, on either side of the lane, had these pictures put up on their windows/balconies. I stared in amazement, wondering what it was all about. There wasn't anyone around, barring an old Portuguese who looked clearly surprised to see us. We wandered around a bit, soaking it all in, taking pictures, and then resumed our quest.

We came back, got busy with our lives, the picture almost fading from memory. Then today, while going through my archive, I found it again. Memories came rushing back, with that familiar question: what was it all about! I started thinking, maybe it didn't mean anything afterall. Maybe the locals were just religious and it was a way of expressing their gratitude to Almighty. Or maybe it meant something. Maybe it was a special day. I wished I knew. I wished I had asked.

But then I thought, maybe, some things were indeed better left unknown.

End of The Era

I see the social networking sites overflowing with ThankYou Sachin status messages, I see the madness surrounding the last two test matches (incidentally, one in my home town and the other in his :) ), I see friends celebrating his accomplishments as their own, I see people crying at the news of his retirement, I see the on-field crowd stunned into silence and then erupting in a roar of applause and cheers after the final innings, and my heart warms. How lucky he is to be loved and respected by millions, I wonder! And then I think, how incredibly lucky we are to have him.

I have never idolized or worshiped him the way most Indians have. I have not sat glued to the television everytime he played. I shall not be able to recall how many runs he scored or how many wickets he took on that final day of that particular match in that year (as my brother can, with ease). I do not know his career statistics by heart. I have had infinite arguments with the brother and a Ponting-fanatic to decide if he was indeed the greatest. But I do know that he has re-defined Cricket for us Indians. I do know that the guy is perfectly capable of creating miracles on the field. I do know that I always thought nothing bad could happen to India if he was around. And ofcourse, I do know that we share 'almost' the same birthday! :)

So while I can hardly take part in the mania that has engulfed the country right now, I can sit in my office and silently thank him for everything he has done for us till date. And all I can tell him is that you make us proud, very very proud. 

Take a bow Little Master. You'll be missed :(

p.s. I share with you my most favourite picture of him. Lifted by the team mates, The Tricolor in hand, and The Night when we conquered the world. Perfect, isn't it? :)

The plan

Off late, I have been going through this no-time-to-write phase, given the upcoming yearly seminar in a couple of weeks (which also marks the beginning of the third, and final, year of this damned PhD)! Quite evidently, I feel pretty much frustrated, irritated, in dire need of some sleep, praying for extra hours in a day, and not to mention the (n-1)th time questioning-myself as to why I started this PhD in the first place. 

I mean, this was not even the plan! I was never extraordinarily brilliant in studies, so my professional aspirations were also limited to a great extent throughout my school (and college) life. Studying till a certain age, experiencing love, having wonderful friends, getting married at 25, starting a family by 28, having a good job, traveling extensively, being satisfied with life by 30.. everything had seemed so simple back then. Half a decade later, the plan seems to have gone for a toss. On days like today, when I feel that the whole world is conspiring against me :-/, I take a deep breath and wish that I had stuck to the plan. I see 'got-married-to.../going-on-weekend-trips-with-friends../got-a-promotion' posts on Facebook ceremoniuosly piling up everyday, and sometimes I feel a tinge of jealousy. On days like today, I wish I had a family to pamper me when I complained about, well, everything; had someone waiting for me when I returned home (with a huge smile and a big slice of chocolate cake, ah); had eventful weekends with friends; had a clearer picture of the life after PhD, and had less things to worry about. But, strangely, on most other days I feel happy that I have not stuck to the plan. Doing this PhD, living thousands of miles away from family and friends, staying alone in a spooky apartment on the hills, having no time or energy to cook and therefore eating salad or bread for dinner on most days, didn't help a bit in accomplishing the things I had planned for. However, they taught me a great deal about reality and life. And ofcourse, that plans, how much full-proof and well constructed they might be, never ever work! :D

The Liebster Award

Let me begin this post by thanking Bhavana Lalwani (Life with pen and papers) who has nominated my blog for the Liebster Award. Apart from the fact that I am absolutely overwhelmed and can't thank her enough, I feel a big inverted-rainbow across my face right now. My first ever nomination for an award, and what more, given by a fellow blogger who has liked my blog! Clearly, my day is made :)

So before explaining the rules, let me just briefly mention what in the world this Liebster award is about! Liebster is a German word (which I had no clue about, even after staying in Germany for the past two years) which means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued etc (Wikipedia, you rock!) It is an award given to new and budding bloggers who have less than 200 followers, as a way to boost their reputation in the blogging community! 

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Here are the rules:

1) Each nominee must thank and link back the person who nominated them.

2) Answer the 10 questions given to you by the nominator.

3) Nominate 10 other bloggers for this award who have less than 200 followers.

4) Create 10 questions for your nominees to answer.

5) Let the nominees know that they have been nominated by notifying them.

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Here are the answers to the ten questions that Bhavana has asked:

If you become India’s Prime Minister for one day, then what would be your first three decisions?

Being an economist who has seen how this world works from a closer distance, I would say (in no particular order), provision of education- not just basic, but atleast through high-secondary- to everyone so that they can make decisions not based on their blind beliefs and religious orthodoxies but on sound logic and understanding, complete elimination of child labor, and improvement of the sanitation system.

If the whole world fall asleep for one day except you and you are free to go anywhere and take anything, then where will you go and what things you would like to take?

Have never thought about this one. But now when I think about it, I would never really want the whole world to fall asleep even for a day. Being a garrulous person who talks incessantly, I believe I would suffocate if I would find no one to talk to. So, if I have to answer that question, I would say I would just sleep and then wake up when the rest of the world (or atleast one person) wakes up :D

Name your biggest fear.

Loneliness.

What is your idea of a dream vacation?

Somewhere in the mountains, where silences speak. The rest.. spontaneity :)

Do you believe in love at first sight?

No! Over the years I have realized that love is more than just first sight. So, no.

If you have given the freedom/power to rewrite some chapters of your life then, which things you would like to change or correct?

I am very tempted to name a few impromptu decisions and embarrassing mistakes that I had made. But then given the fact that life is a learning curve, I would not actually want to rewrite any part of my life; afterall those impromptu decisions and embarrassing mistakes have made me who I am today (a cliché, but very apt nevertheless).

Which film or novel or the character (you recently have read/watch) has impressed you most and why?

The one film that I have recently watched and have been clearly impressed is Julie & Julia. And why? Here is the reason why :)

Do you think or believe that the cyber world (social networking) can bring true and worthy relationships in our life? Please give a little explanation.

Yes. I have seen friends around me finding their soulmates through this cyber world. Love means understanding and being able to communicate properly, whatever the medium be. However, I personally do not see something like that happening for me. 

If you are given a chance to live someone else’s life for one week then, who would be that person and why?

I am intrigued by only one person in this world, who puzzles me to no extent. Time and again, I have thought what it is to be like him, to think the way he thinks, to feel the way he feels, the way he perceives a particular situation etc. We are poles apart in the way we think, which is why I often wish if I could get into his head. Wall-P, he is. 

Define the biggest ambition/dream of your life in one sentence.

To live a complete and happy life with people I love.

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Here are my ten nominations for the award:

Being Mommee..Love It. Like It. Live It.

Tes AP

The K- Factor

Tangled Vibes

Haute Kutir

My World of Food and Travel

Let Beauty be Your Constant Ideal

Labyrinths of Life

The Explorer of Miracles

Stir Your Souls

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And finally, here are my ten questions (the first ten questions that came to my head :D)

1) Three words that describe you the best.

2) Tea or Coffee?

3) Name one feature in you that you don't like. Could be physical, emotional, psychological, whatever. 

4) If you could travel anywhere in the world and money was no object, where would you go and why?

5) What's the first word/thing that comes to your mind when I say 'rain'?

6) Mountains or Sea?

7) Your take on First love? Do you believe that first love, like every first, is special?

8) The next thing on your to-purchase list?

9) Why do you blog?

10) The one thing that you would like to change about your city?

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Looking forward to many more interesting posts from you! Write on :)

A movie night

So, it wasn't the best of days today. I woke up late with a bad headache, tried to make chili tofu for lunch (a substitute for chili paneer that looks similar but sadly tastes different) which turned out to be not half as good as I wanted it to be, went out to buy grocery and instead ended up buying dozens of chocolates (and eating them all too, well almost), freaked out over work, felt demotivated, frustrated, and when nothing helped, slept. And then, the guy asked me to watch a movie. Julie & Julia. A movie on cooking, and Julia Child (the American cook who made French cooking hugely popular in the US). He said he liked it and I would love it too. Given that I have never been particularly fond of cooking and was already having a bad-cooking day, I wasn't sure if it was my kind of a movie or the right time to watch a movie, on anything. But then I just decided to watch it, partly because the guy who recommended it has a very good taste in movies and partly because I had nothing else to do. And, boy, o boy, did I love it!

The movie is a comedy-drama that contrasts the lives of two characters, set in two different time periods, but sharing a common love, a love for food. Basically, it gives a taste of the early years of Julia Child's (portrayed by Meryl Streep) career as a culinary expert on one hand, and the life of a young American writer (played by Amy Adams) who tries to find solace in cooking on the other. It's a simple yet a very well made movie, with a simple story-line, and some great acting. However, what sets it apart from most movies is that it a classic feel-good film that fills your heart with much happiness and never lets the smile leave your face. Also, the fact that it is entirely about food and the joys associated with (cooking and) eating good food, makes it so enjoyable. I don't remember the last time I watched a film that made me forget the events of a not-so-glorious day and made me hungry at 2 o'clock in the morning (the movie is all about delicious recipes and cooking, and therefore do not watch it on an empty stomach!). I could go on and on about the movie and what I liked about it, but I restrain myself from being another Wikipedia, and a spoilsport. So, I leave it at this and would really recommend others to watch it if you haven't already. Meryl Streep is a treat to the eyes, and if not for anything, watch it for her. She's a delight. Amy Adams, whom I didn't know before watching this movie, is also pretty good and very real-life like. Also, that most part of the movie is set in Paris (the place I consider heaven or close to heaven) makes it even more special. All in all, I think the movie has already climbed high up on my list of happy films and has put my soul at peace, finally :)

Stressbusters

Working late into the night in the office and trying desperately to find a research article from a heap of journals, you suddenly come across these. Small things that instantly pull the sides of the lips to a wide U (or a V)!

Months-old envelope sent from across the oceans on birthday. Reminds of happy moments and bubble wraps, followed by melancholic after-thoughts.

Half a year old train ticket, bought in Spain, en-route to a monastery with a friend. Realizations about being fortunate enough to have seen so many places. Smiles from ear-to-ear.

A filled-in diary given as a present a couple of years ago. Hand-written letters, memories galore and a spark in the eyes. Mixed emotions.

A picture of Calcutta while browsing randomly through Facebook. That heart-skipped-a-beat moment followed by the umpteenth-time realization that the City runs in the blood.

Instant stress-busters, I call them!  :-)

Fall colors

In school, we were often asked to prepare essays on 'Seasons of India' for our final exams. Given my limited writing potential, I would always ask Ma to write them for me and I would just memorize them and pour them out word-by-word in the exams. She would write about the six seasons- distinctively differentiating them with respect to the changes in weather, arrival of new fruits, vegetables, flowers and festivals. So while dub-er-jol (coconut-water) was a thing of Summer, pithe-puli (a Bengali dessert prepared with coconut and milk) would mean that Spring was round the corner. While unending rains would mean Monsoon, Durga Puja would mean Autumn and lightened up cathedrals and decorated Christmas trees would mean the arrival of Winter. No wonder, I started identifying the seasons not from the drop or rise in temperature but from the various activities and 'add-ons' they were associated with.

In Germany, however, seasons are different. They look and feel different too. Summer here means barbecue, beach volleyball, sunbathing and short dresses all around. Winter, which is painfully long, means intense cold, heavy snowfall, frozen nose, glühwein (mulled wine) and long overcoats and thick jackets. Winter also means Christmas markets, lights and candles and Christmas trees everywhere, and, gifts. Monsoon is vastly different from what we mean by Monsoon in India, and is marked by tiny patches of light to medium rains, severely cold winds and gloomy faces. Autumn, on the other hand, means unending Pujo posts on Facebook by friends back home, snapshots of the cloudless blue sky and kash-ful everywhere, Durga idols in the making, and acute homesickness. Maybe that is why, Autumn in Germany comes with a big dose of colors, that instantly lifts up the mood and partially takes away the pain of not being at home.

 

These pictures were taken while hiking with an ordinary phone camera, which, however did not manage to take away the essence of Autumn a bit :-)

This one I noticed a couple of days ago while coming back from the University. Red leaves adorning a window-sill. Colors never looked more pretty.

These were taken when I first came to Germany (strangely, it was in Autumn) two years back and decided to take a walk by myself in the hills one Sunday. Although I had no clue what awaited me, I was clearly bowled over. The sights mesmerized me, and I realized perhaps for the first time what Autumn meant. It meant a treat to the eyes.

This one, I used to pass by everyday while going to the University. The first time I saw it, it still had green leaves and I didn't give it a second look. But then the colors started changing and in a matter of just two months, the green leaves gave way to these dark yellow leaves. I wondered how something could look so beautiful and realized that Autumn, with its red and yellowish trees, fallen leaves everywhere, nice cold days, occasional blue sky, and, happy faces, did make up for the homesickness in the end :-)

Goosebumps

Just when you start thinking that life is full of shit because of personal shortcomings and non-fulfillment of trivial expectations, you come across something that makes you fall in love with life once again.

A busy day, a crowded canteen, young students chatting about latest gadgets, movies, women and researchers sitting and discussing about work, papers and journal submissions over cups of coffee. In the middle of all that, you suddenly notice a young couple at the far end of the table, engrossed in themselves. You don't give them a second look until you notice that the woman is covered from head to toe in what seems like a specially-made dress for patients, is completely paralyzed and sitting on a huge wheelchair with her head being supported by a metallic rod attached to it. Next to her, sits the guy, sipping coffee and cutting a large sandwich into tiny pieces. Once done, he takes up those small pieces one by one and starts feeding the girl, while gently stroking her paralyzed hands. You watch them in amazement, with tiny drops of water forming in your eyes. You struggle to concentrate on the discussion going on in front and realize that life surprises you the most when you least expect it!

Deadlines

I recently came across this picture on Facebook and let out a loud gasp. What a perfect way of depiction, I thought!

Deadline. One of the nastiest words ever invented and the most-frequently-used word I have come across in the last two years of my PhD life. From paper submissions to conference registrations, from assignment correction to course enrollment, this one word has been the be-all-and-end all of my existance. No wonder the office wall (now and forever) overflows with deadline notices, twenty notifications on the notice board stare back, conversations with colleagues almost always revolve around it, and I question myself for the umpteenth time what made me lose my sanity and decide to go into research!

When I started my PhD, two things amazed me to no extent. The #1 was seeing people talking about work and more work during lunch, dinner meets, social gatherings, parties, football matches, concerts and what not. I often wondered if they were crazy nerds whose lives always revolved around work and therefore they had nothing else to talk about or if they really enjoyed talking about work. The #2 was finding people never even caring about those well defined '9-6' office hours and sitting in their offices almost the entire day. Again, I thought of the same two reasons as I did for the first observation. People would often tell me that I would never know when I would start doing the same, and it'd made me laugh. After being in research for almost two years, I now know how absolutely right they were and how ignorant I was. Also, I have realized that there exists a third reason that surpasses the first two in terms of importance- the inability to abide by deadlines, and therefore compelled to #1 and #2.

From my experience, the entire before and after process of 'please-submit/register-by-#date-midnight' has been pretty simple and patterned. Ten days before the deadline, you are as relaxed as a multimillionaire cruising the Atlantic with beer in one hand and a gorgeous woman on the other. Five days before, you are as relaxed as an on-budget traveler traveling across Europe while calculating the daily expenses every minute. One day before, you are as relaxed as a minister the night before the election. You forget to eat, miss phone calls, check the watch every two seconds and panic every second while hoping against hope that everything will work out. You see the office lights of colleagues switched on till almost midnight (and ofcourse also your own), you hear the brewing sound of the coffee machine at wee hours, you get Skype messages from other ill-fated PhD students about why one should never do a PhD, you realize your heart rate going sky-high ten minutes before midnight, you curse yourself for wasting so much time during the day/week/month/year, you swear to God to finish pending work a week before the deadline from next time, and when nothing works, you cry in frustration. Then, if magically you somehow manage to submit/register before the deadline, you feel a strange calmness caressing you and paralyzing you for the next thirty days, until the next deadline arrives. And the process starts all over again.

When Ma used to lecture me on my inability to be disciplined and be on-time, I would always tell her that these things would normalize automatically when I grow up, claiming as if being older and wiser were correlated with being disciplined. Now when I see myself braving those innumerable panic attacks as I did a decade ago, albeit now on a bigger scale, I tell myself that these things would normalize automatically when I would really grow up, always knowing in my heart that one grows up by choice, and not by chance!

Kicker-ed!

When introduced to Kicker (the German name for table-Football) a couple of years ago, I knew I would be disappointed. It was quite an obvious inference given the fact that I found Football to be the ever-most boring game on earth and was often considered a 'let-down' by my Football-fanatic family. After coming to Germany, I figured that Football (or Fußball in German) here was almost synonymous to religion and there wasn't a single person who shared my opinion. So, as a perfect newcomer desperate to please the hosts, I feigned interest for as long as I could, while being absolutely clueless and uninterested in the game itself.

Then one day, God decided to punish me! We were at a farewell party of a colleague at a night-club and there was this huge colorful table in the middle of the room. To be honest, I was pretty impressed by the sight, but still had no clue about what it was. A couple of friends saw me ogling the table, misread my (poker-faced) expressions and decided to introduce me to Kicker. I was devastated when I learnt that it was a mini version of the game I hated most, but decided to play along. Thankfully, I have not regretted the decision ever since.

It is one of the most interesting table games I have ever played. Ideally, it is a 4-person game, two in each team,and the team that scores the maximum number of goals, wins. As one can see in the picture, each player has to use the figures to move the ball, and there are again a set of rules about how to use these figures. In general, the rules are pretty understandable and very much like real Football. When I first started playing, I loathed it with all my heart. Maybe I was way too biased and told myself that anything associated with Football was not for me. But then, without even realizing, I fell in love with it. I realized that it was not, afterall, about players trying just to put a ball in the goal. It was, infact, much more than that! I started learning the nuances of the game, found myself watching Kicker videos on YouTube, and most importantly, respecting the larger version for the first time in life. (Not to mention that the love was fueled by people telling me that I was quite a 'natural' at the game!) ;-)

Long story short, I now consider myself a Kicker-enthusiast who can't wait to lay her hands on the miniature figures whenever she is at a Kicker-party. Agreed, that I play surprisingly well only when under the spell of alcohol, but I do believe that I enjoy it to the fullest even without alcohol! Friends tell me that I become hyper-energetic when I play, shouting and screaming at the misses, overjoyed at the goals and I realize that, in the end, Football and I may not be at loggerheads afterall! :-)

The third eye

I have known her for ages; when we were still wearing pleated uniforms, tied our hair in braids on two sides, when men still hadn't made an entry into our conversations, when it was all about being naive and dreamy-eyed. I have known her since then. She always came across as a fun (and overweight, if I were to mention her statistics) girl, a girl who talked incessantly, was always up for some mischief, good at studies although she claimed she hardly ever studied which I never believed, had a great interest in drawing which was pretty evident from our Biology or Geography assignments, and who was someone whom I considered a very close friend. We both were in the same section for most part of our school lives, which was the third most important reason for our closeness, the first being our mutual hatred for our Bengali teacher and the second being our mutual love for food. After finishing school, we went our separate ways but still managed pretty much to stay in touch. We made sure to meet atleast once every six months, over fried chicken legs, icecream, gossip and those never-ending discussions on our infinite crushes! We hardly every discussed about the men in our lives, which was strange given that we were pretty good friends and talked about almost everything. 

Then one day she told me that she was dating a guy from college since the past two years. It wasn't surprising, given that she always had been very friendly and quite interactive with guys. It seemed they were very much in love, and were quite serious about each other. Once, I also met the guy. He seemed decent enough, skinny, but a super-chyangra like her! The entire time that we three were there, they pulled each others legs, fought like kids, made fun of each other and laughed and laughed. What a perfect match, I had thought! Then we both got busy with our lives, studies, future plans and met less often. However, we still managed to know what's going on in each others' lives. I was by then nursing a broken heart and trying to finish my studies, and she was preparing to go abroad for her higher studies. The guy I mentioned was also studying somewhere outside the city and was also planning to go abroad. The next time I met her, the guy had already gone abroad and she was still in the city, working. She looked sad, but full of energy, as always and we talked about heartbreaks, long distance relationship, old friends and food! Ten years, and how much our conversations had changed! She told me about the arguments and fights she was having, and I tried to offer suggestions and opinions, always realizing how much she still was in love. We started going out more often, with other friends and acquaintances. She had by then made many new friends and I too, although this was never a concern for either of us. I got to know some of her friends, a guy friend in particular, whom she was very close to and whom I was later introduced to as well. He was supposedly her FPG and someone she considered her best friend, her sink. Seldom had I seen such friendship, such compatibility, such closeness. How jealous I was!

She went abroad a few months later, and I started working in a new city. This time our conversation had one more thing in common- the pain of staying away from home. During those conversations, I got to know a lot more about her life than I did before. She was in a mess, as far as her personal life was concerned. I tried to offer suggestions, opinions, comfort, sympathy, but nothing seemed to work. I blamed her for not listening to my earlier suggestions, for not realizing the subtle changes in relationships and for keeping too high expectations. But then she always had been a head-strong girl, who believed in learning a lesson on her own than on advice. We talked on and off, her mood always fluctuating like sine waves, and my mood always stuck at being pathetic for own reasons. And then, all of a sudden, we grew up. We stopped complaining, accepted things more easily and learnt to be happy in small accomplishments. In a matter of months, I was talking about my new-found love in a new man and she was talking about her new-found love in her old man. We felt happier, calmer, lighter.

So much has changed since then; our lives, our priorities, our dreams, our conversations, everything. Through her, I have realized many emotions, shortcomings and characteristics in me I never knew existed. In teaching her small nuances of life and to let go of her fears, I have taught myself to let go of my fears. I feel happy atlast, for myself, for her, and for the biggest lesson life taught us!

Left behind

Thirty-five days. A presence. A house that so quickly turned into home. Nights that were no longer lonely. Mornings that were filled with conversations. Days that were blissful. Memories galore. Happiness that knew no bounds. And then they left.

An agonizing night followed. A painful week awaits. The room smells of them, the kitchen smells of her excessive use of 'panch foron', the bathroom smells of his body-oil and my eyes swell with tears.

Jena is never going to be the same anymore. I hear voices when I get up in the morning, expect a cup of coffee beside my bed-side table, that oh-so-familiar-female-voice asking what I would like to have for breakfast, to switch onto a Bengali channel on YouTube, or that I should start eating properly; that oh-so-familiar-male-voice asking me to work harder and waste less time, to help connect the long-distance calls or the borrowed TV. Every thing reminds me of them. The air-bed, the utensils, the refrigerator which still has left-overs from yesterday, the towels in the bathroom, the balcony, the perfectly-cleaned wardrobe, the stack of medicines, the ear-buds, the TV, the supermarkets, the ticket machine in the bus, city-center, the narrow lanes, the innumerable shops that were browsed through, cafes and what not. I search for familiar faces in the crowd at the market-place when I take the bus. I almost ring the bell at home and await a smiling face on the other side. I turn on one side in bed and try to cuddle her. I put on the ear-buds to get respite from his loud snoring. But there's nothing, only emptiness. That's how I feel too.

Being left behind hurts, it hurts big time. I thought I was familiar with the feeling. But I realized that it is impossible to be familiarized with loneliness. I complained to anyone who would listen that I was being pampered like hell, even spoiled for that matter. I now wish I was spoiled for one more day, just one more day. I wish I could see them, touch them, smell them, be angry at them and bask in their happiness for one more day. Pangs! Pangs that refuse to leave me alone.

The only solace, is that I have been able to plan and more importantly execute a vacation for them. Nothing has given me more satisfation than to have shown them around, bits and pieces of Europe, suggesting the local cuisines and drinks, taking long walks and river-cruise rides, explaining extensive details about each place, and, living a dream with them. What more can one ask for. 

I desperately try to get back to old routines, ignore the occassional lumps in the throat and do justice to the innumerable attempts made to cheer me up. I tell myself that it's just a matter of half a year until I see them again. Half a year, it seems like ages. I wait.

Of places and people

'Traveling'. A word I was introduced to long before I could properly speak (I made my first trip when I was a toddler, and had a brother who still hadn't seen the light of the world at that time). I remember nothing about that trip; except that it was in Nainital, we went there with thousand other relatives who adored me and never let me down from their laps and that somehow I was made to believe that if I did not sleep, a certain 'Hirimba' would come down from those dark mountains and eat me or take me away with her! Till date, my relatives laugh about what effect that mere sentence used to have on me :D That was my first trip ever, with which I was introduced to a world I now consider a major part of my growing up. I have been to innumerable trips since then, having been blessed with a father who loved to travel and a mother who was equally enthusiastic. Somehow they made me believe that traveling is as essential as eating and sleeping, and that it should be counted as one of the basic requirements for survival. Maybe this is the reason why I have grown into a travel-fanatic (if at all there is such a word for people who love to travel to death) and consider this a major constituent of my happiness index!

I am sure there are million other people in the world who think like me on this particular aspect, maybe million times more passionate than me, people who have spent all their lives exploring places, knowing people, learning new things everyday and living a life I envy. But, that has not let me feel any less content with my own life and experiences. I have traveled extensively, covered many places in India, in a couple of neighbouring countries and in Europe. Some I don't remember anymore, some I remember partially, for some I remember certain incidents and for some I remember almost everything. However, even though I no longer remember details of all places I have traveled to, I can for sure remember which places had/have impressed me the most. Now when I look back, I realize that all these places had only one thing in common- they breathed!

I went to Rajasthan for the first time when I was a kid, a mere 8-9 years old. I remember nothing from that trip, which maybe was the sole reason why baba decided to take us to Rajasthan again ten years later. I fell in love with the place the moment I set foot in Jaipur, and the love hasn't reduced an inch since then. I loved everything about it, the super enthusiastic people who chewed paan (and spitted on the road :() all the time, the funny accents of the locals, the rustic touch that is so very unique, the rajasthani music that we often heard from our rooms, the hot sands that burned our feet in Jaisalmer, the frightening camel rides, the setting sun across the yellow sands, the thali that we gorged on each night, the lassi and home-made desserts and the warmth of the people. The place breathed, of colors and life.

While Rajasthan is an exception, my first love has always been the mountains and places that are in the mountains. So be it the Himalayas, and subsequently, places like Mussorie (ah, it was heaven), Kullu, Manali, Shimla, Shillong, Gangtok, Kalimpong, Darjeeling (another of my all time favorite places, very typical Bengali I think :P), Kedarnath-Badrinath (these two need a post of their own), some parts in Southern India somewhere around Kanyakumari, or in Nepal or Bhutan, like Pokhra and Kathmandu, or the Swiss Alps, in Interlaken and Geneva, or those small mountains adorning parts of central France, like in Annecy. While some of these places have carved a permanent place in my heart with their beauty, some have made me realize that I no longer need to see Paradise. Manali-Mussorie was one such. Annecy was one such. Interlaken was one such. Agreed, all these places had disappointed me with their ever-changing weather, all my plans of taking in their beauties in perfectly sunny/less windy/less cold (as applicable) weather were destroyed, thereby making me feel that mountains and myself can never be a happy couple. However, inspite of our constant disagreements, these places have made me fall in love with them. The reason for this blind love? Simply that paradise, even when wrapped in a blanket of fog, dark clouds, rain and gloominess, still remains a paradise. One just needs a different pair of eyes (and the right companions) to see and feel it. Once done, the small little cottages on the hills even on a gloomy afternoon are found to have a life of their own :)

However, what has impressed me beyond words from my most recent trips has been the hospitality and warmth the locals have embraced us with! Wikipedia gives you every little detail about a particular place, from itinerary to food to lodging to safety, to what not. However, it doesn't tell you about the people; people who despite language barriers, welcome you to their land with so much love and affection. Who says that the world is a selfish place and that there is no hope for humanity? While most of it is true, it is far from being the ultimate truth. Places do breathe; they smell too. They smell of happiness, of colors, and, of goodness of people. This realization I have brought back with myself, along with the innumerable memories and a hope that many more of such wonderful experiences await me :) 

**This post has been written for the I AM EXPLORER contest hosted by IndiBlogger**

Thoughts

Day 1: 

A hot summer afternoon, plenty of sunshine, noises coming from the construction work going on outside and the strong smell of molten pitch. Perfect day to sit in a cool cafe and have a chilled ice-coffee. Instead, forced to sit in the office, without a cooler or even a fan and, worse, to work on course assignments. While the subconscious mind wanders to unchartered territory, the conscious part tries hard to concentrate on the work at hand, and fails. The thoughts vary from what-am-i-doing-with-my-life to how-does-my-future-look, from i-feel-lonely-and-depressed to i-feel-loved-and-cared-for, from nothing-seems-to-work to everything-is-perfect and so on. The human mind! 

Day 2:

Smell of molten pitch replaced by the smell of rain, torrential downpour, sight of everything getting drenched, black clouds hovering overhead, a big cup of cappuccino in front, and thoughts running wild. Strangely, the thoughts are distinctively different from Day 1. All complicated, feeling-lost thoughts gone, and replaced by a strong feeling of satisfaction, content, happiness. Also, deeper concentration on the work at hand. Is it the rain? The smell of rain? The cool refreshing breeze caressing the face? The rainbow that has just appeared? Who knows :) Ah the human mind!

Two different scenarios, two different thought processes and a sole realization that human mind is the ever-most complicated thing in the universe; and controlling it, the second most :(

Conversations

When asked to define happiness, one could think of a lot of things. Good health, prosperity, satisfactory personal and professional relationships, fulfillment of basic expectations and needs and so on. However, I define happiness a bit differently. Ofcourse the above mentioned things are absolutely necessary to be happy, but I find happiness in smaller, more simpler things. One is, for example, good food. As already mentioned in one of my last posts, I am a food fanatic and proudly so. Food, and necessarily good food, gives me immense happiness and satisfaction beyond words. The mere thought of indulging in yummy cheeses (for the information, I now know the names of all famous cheeses in the world :D), mouth-watering desserts, chocolate fudges, brownies and cookies gives me goosebumps (well, almost). Another would be traveling- getting to see new places, knowing new cultures, new living habits, feeling lost in a web of unknown languages and accents but still enjoying every bit of it, and meeting interesting people. One more thing that has recently found its way into my happiness-index is taking pictures. I never thought I would be so much interested in photography, but strangely I now see myself enjoying taking pictures and dreaming of buying a DSLR someday :) Later when I go through these pictures (the same also applies to old albums, old G-talk chats, emails and letters) and try to remember the exact moments, I get a feeling that there isn't anything more blissful than this!

However, an important constituent of my happiness-index has still not been mentioned so far, which was practically the reason why I started writing this post in the first place. In the last few days, there hasn't been anyone who has not told me that I look happy.  Added to that, I also feel a strange energy in my voice which was distinctively absent in the last few months. I don't remember when was the last time I looked, or felt, relaxed and less irritated. This is actually a far cry from what I feel and look on most days- tired, or sleepy, or over-worked. I have tried to think of reasons; maybe the lower workload now that I have postponed my yearly presentation, maybe I feel rejuvenated and motivated after traveling for two weeks, the fact that my parents are going to be here soon, that the weather is so warm and nice. While all these have definitely played a role in making me look less grumpy; there is one more reason, a very important one indeed, which I have realized has never failed to lift up my mood in a jiffy. Conversations. Nice, heart-warming and colorful conversations :)

How much strange it may sound, conversations do make me happy. Conversations about nothing in particular, or conversations about things in particular; either way they give me unparalleled satisfaction. Being a self-proclaimed garrulous person who talks incessantly, I am capable of continuing a conversation for hours. However, I fail at initiating good conversations, which thankfully, has never been an issue given the large number of natural-conversation-starters around me. When asked what I found most attractive in a man, I would say that my man should be good looking in an intellectual way, with eyes full of life (the ever-most important criterion I judge a person by), and a good talker. True to that, I have always found myself attracted to people who are good at  striking up interesting conversations; over coffees, wines and beers, in the balcony of guest houses on the hills, during afternoon walks along empty roads, in crowded metros, in parks on rainy days, late into the night while resting the head on the shoulders, staring at the ceiling on a stormy night, in the sheer darkness with distant traffic sounds, or through virtual devices. Talking about childhood, growing up, past incidents, habits and interests, experiences, perspectives, family and life in general, excite me beyond words. It is like getting a part of the person; what they feel and think, felt and thought, how they perceive a situation, what they have experienced in life; and being able to keep that part forever with yourself, never fearing to give it up. Ever.

In the last couple of years that I have lived alone and spent a lot of time thinking, I have realized that there are just a handful of people who have been able to give me happiness this way. Maybe this is also the reason I find myself happier in the company of these few people, while I talk to hundred others daily. Maybe this is also the reason for me being and looking happy in the past weeks (definitely conditioned upon less workload), with a big grin on my face 24*7 and singing often in the office corridors during office hours! Peaceful conversations :)

Avatarized!

*Creativity at work place*

I often come up with innovative ideas of wasting time during office hours and boring lectures. This is one such. While the back sides of most of my notebooks are covered with sketches and cartoons of teachers and professors (a habit that I believe I picked up in my kindergarten years), this one is an impromptu attempt to sketch that side of myself which I love the most! :D

Potpourri

Amazing French cheeses, wines, yummy caramel desserts, perfect sunny weather, heavenly landscape, late-night long walks along the shore with friends and guys with that french accent! what not to love about southern France :)

 When we came to Nice last weekend, never did we imagine that we all are in here for a treat. A treat to the eyes. The place, in one word, is heavenly. One needs to be here to believe how amazing it is. It doesn't have specific tourist places, attractions, monuments and alike which one can visit in an hour or two. What make the place so great are its landscape, the beach, the perfect blue water of the Mediterranean and the french cuisine. The first four days have been deadly hectic, working for 20 hours everyday, attending conferences, presenting papers and sleeping only when we realized that the mind cannot work any more and that we could collapse any minute. However, what followed afterwards has so far given us no reason to complain. Of all things that I have loved in Nice, the long walks at night, with the limitless stretch of the sea in front, planes flying over the head and light breeze caressing the face, have triumphed the list. However, I'll remember these days for the rest of my life not mainly because I am having so much fun and that the place is so beautiful but because of the amazing friendships it has helped me to build.

It couldn't have had come at a better time; a time when I was desperately looking to have a friend whom I could talk to, about anything, about happinesses and pains, about concerns and fears. Being a complete social extrovert, I have a huge bunch of friends to go out with, to talk to, to hang out with. But at times these aren't enough. Late at nights, sometimes a rush of memories make the eyes damp, or the heart digs some previous sadness and is saddened yet again, or the pangs are too strong to ignore. It is in moments like these when one longs for someone to keep the mind distracted. I never thought I would feel all these emotions when holidaying, but the heart has ignored me. During the past weeks, life has taken a different turn. Several realizations have hit me bad and have left a dull pain in the throat which just refuses to go. The change in place has perhaps helped in healing the pain to some extent. But what has definitely worked wonders for the mental peace has been these late-night talks with friends about different issues, office gossips, men, food etc. People say talking about completely unrelated stuff takes the mind off the vicious cycle of unhappinesses and gives you motivation to fight back. The pains aren't made less, no solutions are earned; just the heart is fooled into believing that there is life beyond. However, I feel that these not only gives you the strength to not think about difficult times but also establishes friendships that stay for a lifetime :)

So while looking forward to having a lot of nice time, the French way and thereafter the Spanish way; I sit here in a magical place, late into the night, with a fresh sadness of people lost and new happiness of finding people to share moments with and realizing that life, indeed, is the best teacher!

Us!

I have read this particular comic strip atleast fifty times and each time I have said to myself "Oh Calvin, how accurate!" I find this somehow the best possible explanation of the hitherto unbeknownst four-lettered word. Love! It is, in fact, all that keeps us from strangling the subject(s) of our affections most of the times. Probably this is also the only reason that has kept me from strangling him all these years. Love.

People say, the best thing that can happen to someone is to have their full-time friend as their part-time lover. It makes life a lot easier and comfortable. However, what people never tell you is that it comes with its fair shares of "you-already-knew-this-about-me" and "you-used-to-be-so-much-better-when-we-were-friends" arguments during fights. Also, when that person happens to be someone like him, it takes a lot of hard work to remain sane!

For one, he is the weirdest person I have EVER come across. When we had just started our relationship, one of his male friends would accompany us often on our dates and it just irritated the hell out of me. I always thought that people craved to be alone with their sweethearts, atleast during the initial days of dating. But the guy had proved me wrong, and how! I always thought being slightly possessive about your girlfriend, saying mushy stuff once in a while, expressing emotions vocally, giving compliments, doing some occasional PDA are normal! But then he excelled at being super-oblivious to my demands and did what he was best at, be confidently weird!

We were great friends before we started dating, which is another story altogether and would be part of the autobiography years later. When friends would ask us how we met and got to know each other at our infamous maths tuition, I would talk incessantly for hours on end giving out all the juicy details, while he would sit there and pass some sarcastic remarks. In response, I would paste a "plastic" smile on the face, while mentally cursing him and regretting the moment I decided to take the plunge into the sea of criticism for the rest of my life. However, on other days, he would randomly say that how much he enjoys being in the hometown with family and friends, it feels incomplete without the daily evening meetings at 8B now that I wasn't there. On these  rare events I would feel the heart flutter, realising that I have fallen in love all over again :)

I remember when we used to talk at night over phone, he would just say "hmm" "achha" "sunchi toh" every once in a while. I always knew that he was not listening a word and was busy browsing the channels or doing something else; and when I would would ask him what I had said for the last ten minutes he would just make those terribly cute puppy sounds and apologize. And in case you are wondering, he would go back to the same "hmm"s a minute later :-|

I remember when we were dating in Calcutta, he would always keep me waiting for hours. I would arrive at our chosen place, albeit late, and call him only to know that he had just started from home/college. In the mean time, I would rehearse the choicest of words that I would say to him once he arrived. But then he would arrive with an angelic face and the most innocent smile and it would instantly melt my heart and made me forget the last half an hour of silent cursing.

Once, when we were living in different cities, I made up a story and told him that I was in love with someone else. I just wanted to see his reaction, expecting that he would probably create a lot of drama about it. However, he never asked me how I could do this to him, or what he would do now. He was just silent for awhile and then said to me "If that's what makes you happy, I'll be okay with it!" How I wanted to strangle him at that moment! I thought it didn't matter to him if I would be with someone else. I thought he didn't love me enough.

There are thousand other instances when I want to kill him; for speaking sarcasm as the first language, for being the biggest narcissist and thinking that I am an emotionally screwed up and immature person who is ALWAYS wrong, for taking me for granted, for not wanting to go out even when we are together and preferring to watch movies or talk instead, for not being ultra romantic on anniversaries or special days, for being so practical most of the time, for criticizing Aamir knowing that it bugs me to no extent, for never giving me a single compliment, for irritating me with those snide remarks about almost everything and then trying stupid tricks to pacify me, for never expressing emotions and for those innumerable instances when I am annoyed by his mere existence.

However, there are thousand-and-one reasons for loving him, reasons that are unknown to me. I always tell him, "there's not a single other piece like you in the whole world". But now I know that the best things in life , indeed, come in a single piece :)

So thank you PD for everything that you have done (and not done!), thank you for loving me with all my imperfections, thank you for being there when I am feeling low (and suicidal) and thank you for bringing an important person into my life whom I now consider a prized possession. Happy anniversary!

Thunderstorm in Jena

Staying alone can be pretty scary at times. It becomes scarier when you stay in a quiet building on the hills, with big trees and bushes at the back. However, it gets worse when all these are accompanied by thunderstorms! Some people tend to enjoy the creepy feeling and the sudden doses of lightning. Some people are too preoccupied to even notice them. And some people find this an excuse to cuddle with loved ones. I thought I belonged to the first category, and partially to the third. But never did I think that a time would come when I would be scared of them. So, in an attempt to stay calm and not think about these devilish lightnings, I sit here and.. well.. write about thunderstorms! 

I remember running out to the balcony whenever there was a thunderstorm back home. The roar of thunder, those lightning flashes and later the torrential downpour intrigued me to no extent. Baba accompanied me often outside, while Ma and brother always remained cuddled inside. There's a common saying in Bengali which goes like this: "jhawr hole sankh banja" which literally means "in times of thunderstorms, blow the conch shells". As a kid, I never understood the correlation between these two. It was only in my teens that I got to know what the saying actually signifies. In our culture, conch shells are viewed as having distinctive spiritual qualities. It is believed that the sound emitted from the conch shell shall dispel any surrounding negative energy and purify the environment. Back home, whenever there was a thunderstorm, one could hear conch shells being blown in every house and then gradually the thunderstorm would stop! On most of these days, Ma made 'khichuri' afterwards with fried eggs and aubergines and we savored every last morsel. Sadly, the next day would always be a mess, with reports on fallen trees, destroyed roofs, broken wires, damaged buildings and injured people. In the last one and a half years that I have been in Germany, I have never experienced such a thunderstorm. Rains are quite a rarity here, let alone storms and lightning.  However, today was strangely different from all other days with almost an hour of thunderstorm. Maybe it's sole intention was to scare me and then teach me how not be scared even when I was alone and had no one beside. Or maybe to teach me how to stay calm and keep the mind distracted, rather than calling up friends for compassionate comfort. 

Whatever it was, it seemed to work pretty fine. I never realized when the thunderstorm and lightnings stopped and the sky cleared :) One more lesson in self-dependence passed!! 

You!

A greyish rainy afternoon, a large cup of coffee, research journals lying around, twenty tabs opened on the office desktop and I sit here and write about YOU!

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Presents are always special. So is the anticipation. They become more special when they are sent from across the oceans. They become even more special when they constitute books by favorite authors. But when they come in bubble wraps, bliss! 

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Not many would know that I have been into painting since childhood. Going to the drawing class, every Sunday, from 5 o'clock -7 o'clock in the afternoon was something I used to look forward to the whole week. Of all the things that I loved to draw, portraits topped the list. As a kid, I always asked Baba to buy me those sketch-books where they had pencil sketches of very well-known historical figures and I used to spend hours and days drawing them. Over the years, sketching portraits of historical figures gave way to portraits of role models, cricketers, TV and movie actors. But in all these years, never did I make a portrait of myself. I always had this wish that someone would make a portrait of me which I would then frame and hang up on the wall. 

After so many years, finally my wish has come true. I now have a sketch of myself, and ecstatic is the word I am looking for to decribe how I feel right now!

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I love writing long posts/mails/letters/messages. I love reading them even more. I have been a voracious reader since childhood, reading everything I could lay my hands on, and enjoyed almost equally penning down my thoughts in diaries. While there is no substitute for books, sometimes I craved for a looong mail or a letter which I could read on days like these. However since the last two-three years, I haven't. The cravings were met even before they became a craving. Small happinesses, I say :)

And when such a long letter arrives with a hand-written one, or with a cricket headband, 'small happiness' turns an understatement. 

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In the entire post, I haven't mentioned you even once. That's weird given that I intended to write mushy things about you and that how lucky I am to have you. Maybe this is because I fail miserably at re-iterations and voicing emotions. However, I know that you would know that IT IS indeed about you and that I don't have to write mushy things to describe you! Just a single word is enough for that!

Soulmate :)

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P.S. I cannot thank you enough for the gifts, and the thoughts you have put in to make each of them special.  I loved them, each one of them. I feel blessed to have you and to be loved and cared by you. I do not know where life will take us, but if I had the power to control destiny, I would never ever let you go. However difficult the circumstances are. And sorry for being such a rude and selfish giant on the 23rd's, Jan and April 2013.

The rest, you know.

(This somehow reminded me of the last scene of 'Marley and Me'. When the dog dies and is being burried, everyone takes turn to say something or the other to the dog, as a final note of love and affection, to proclaim how much they loved the dog. The eldest kid, who the dog was closest to, just says "He knows". One of the best closing lines in a movie that I absolutely loved!!)

All I can say is that the moments spent with you are what I call a kaleidoscope :) :)