Its always about the people and the city...

Its nearing one year when i t first put step inn Europe. It was autumn of 2010. As part of student exchange program of IIM Calcutta called STEP in our college, i went to Oslo, Norway. During few weeks that i stayed in Oslo and months that i travelled across Europe, i lived and made stories. I remember how we would say that these days will not come again. One can earn money, come back, sit on those expensive river bed side coffee shops but this time of life can not be replicated. Oh the joy of being a student traveller- walking miles with heavy rucksack on the back, reaching random cities at random times and covering them on foot with one map in hand. Reaching a place and hunting for youth hostels, asking people and deciphering things in unknown languages, travelling in trains for hours and days, eating random food, being so forward thinker for few things and for others, leaving everything for god knows who to take care of. Getting lost and reconnecting without phones. Travelling on tra

“Come fast so we can leave this place ASAP. We need to leave quickly. It is cold, fucking expensive and …” Yelled my friend on GTALK in BOLD and Caps. This was after just a day in Oslo. I still had two days before I would touch down to Europe, starting my ‘Eurotrip’ from almost the end of the world… Autumn of 2010 was our gateway to three-four months of student exchange program-culture exchange, information exchange and loads of traveling. I was visiting BI Norwegian school of Management, Oslo from IIM Calcutta. It was an unusual place considering not many students would opt to go to Norway-a secluded rich country at the corner of Europe. But we had opted for it, neither had we a choice, nor any second thoughts. Equipped with as much luggage as economy Aerofloat allows, a global 3 month Euro rail pass and currency prepaid card, I set out for the journey of my life, which will turn to be the most reckless, most crazy and clearly the most cherished one. Icing on cake- a student tourist i

Most theories in life boil down to one pattern. This is my theory so far. I have learnt it is all a vicious circle. It syncs with our tradition too-vicious circle of life and death, lies and sin, love and desire, hope and despair... the more I know, the more I want to know… It has been nearly 50 days in the city. I do love it for what it is loved for the most-Sea. I have already spent multiple evenings on sea faces and beaches and they would easily be the best times amongst all the big clubs, binging, drinking and even theatre. Bandstand, Juhu, Worli, Marine drive, Carter road, Chaupatty, Haji Ali and girgaon…Bliss There are few main categories of people one can see there- lovers, thinkers, joggers. Then there are sellers on sea faces-additional category of families on beaches…and few others who I am not sure how exactly fit in there, or anywhere…looks like they aren’t sure either. I mentioned vicious circle because one thing that hits hard on face in Mumbai is the stark disparity betw

All those who are comfortable with saying or hearing the word Vagina may raise their hand. Most people did…few, as expected by the narrator didn’t or hesistantly did after a second… “ well you have to bear with it now that you are here or walk off…sorry no refund. My hand din’t go up instantly, not because I wasn’t comfortable, but because I though why would it be uncomfortable. Then in some days I have realized I am an outlier in this case…low on these words and zilch exposure. Anyway Vagina Monologues is an extremely popular play across the world. Written by Eve Ensler, it started running in 1996. As is clear from the name, the play is a collection of short monologues centering around Vagina. It is more like describing the experience of women all over the world which somehow relates to the Vagina-the monologues range from best of things to worst-all encompassing women’s life and Vagina. In India, it is run by since 2003. Directed by Mahabanoo Mody-Kotwal, I watched it with four lea

Chances are that if you have ever remotely been associated with theatre-acting or watching-and are visiting Mumbai, Prithvi theatres will ring a bell. You would have already heard a lot about it and will have it somewhere on the to-do list. I had it too-fortunately it happened much earlier, unplanned. In less than a week of me moving to Mumbai. I was at Marriott for the introduction orientation of my job so after hours it just happened-plan made and I found myself headed to Prithvi. It is different from what I had imagined. Completely. Not that I had imagined much but once you reach, a Delhiite will visualize Mandi circle, Kamani, SRC, LTG…... Prithvi is different. It’s an enclosed place amidst Mumbai's old semi dilapidated buildings. Inside, you can see the culture is bit different. The air is comparatively relaxed, people at prithvi café are in a bit unconventional clothes-not exactly the dilli jholawala types though… Then for the play, there is a queue a little before stipulated

“DUDE I’M SINKING...THEN I THINK, WHEN I KNOW SWIMMING, WHY AM I SINKING…I START KICKING… I RESURFACE AND THEN AGAIN…I START SINKING” I get trapped in the loop. If I think about it, it seems like a problem I can never solve…If I don’t, I’m at ultimate peace. Wait, this has happened before- in a neat not so nice washroom of a youth hostel in some by lane of Amsterdam, I felt this before. Déjà vu. “I’m SINKING.” “DON’T THINK. JUST LET YOUR MIND LOSE. YOU WILL BE AT PEACE. AND THEN YOU WILL… STOP. STOP GETTING INTO MY MIND." I was standing under the shower, adjusting the water taps to get right temperature for god knows how many hours. The skin- biting hot water was falling on my head, dripping down to my shoulders where it lacerated my flesh as it felt freezing cold. I was in the hot cold loop. At times hot on head cold on shoulders, the other times cold on head hot on shoulders. Whichever way, it was never right, I kept on rotating the knob but whatever it felt on my head, it fe

2010-08-27 12:23:42 Finally, It's time! 2010-08-28 07:23:58 In Transit-Moscow Met a Russian in flight who knew more vedas/chants/bhagwat geeta/Yoga than me...non drinker, vegetarian, strict diet regime...OMG...we Indian are spoilt kids! 2010-08-31 17:36:24 Traveler knows 2 things for sure: Making the ends meet and Live in jeans 2010-09-04 20:16:28 Train to Sweden-Tracks under construction-had a special bus drive us to next station and drop right on the platform to catch the train waiting for us for past 30 min... 2010-09-07 17:30:45 If these company PPTs were in Joka, everyone wud be drunk by the end of it..Hail free wyne...whine...WIjenwe.... 2010-09-09 12:26:18 OMG OMG...Vengaboys concert tonight!!! Who knew i'd getta watch teen icons:) 2010-09-11 12:32:01 Vienna! 2010-09-18 16:51:03 OKTOBERFEST Carnival Day 1 :) 2010-09-19 20:05:05 Next task: Rent and Drive a car in Europe...coming up soon :) 2010-09-21 13:49:48 "A realist, in Venice, would become a romantic by mere fai

Few of my Status Messages that i love April 01 A fool to desire, a fool to achieve, A fool to love and a fool to believe… ‘ts a day for us all, a day to rejoice, For tell me, who doesn’t live, in a fool’s paradise... There is this thing that i hate about a finale - they leave you feeling so incomplete Drunk guy: " If you are not committed, then you are a free rider" Me: " I'm not a free rider, just don't prefer proxies!" Innovative relationship analogy #1 Relationships are like college libraries... active at night, full of disinterested people and folks outside think that people inside are upto something great :P Innovative Relationship analogy #2 Relationships are like exams-unexpected people do well, timing is important, your relative grading makes all the difference, and...In the end, it doesn't even matter...:P Innovative relationship analogy #3: Relationships are like flights. Too early or too late spoils the fun; the higher you go, the more is th

September 15, 2010 1500 hours, Wien, Austria. I am a stupid girl. Sitting on a train from Wien to Ljubljana, I realize and declare this. I am 26. I love reading books. Salman Rushdie is my favorite, closely followed and mostly overtaken by Ayn Rand. I love Howard Roark and wish there was someone like him I had met. And still, what I love the most is reading fashion and bollywood masala. Serious stuff doesn’t interest me a bit and I would rather read zillions of words on Nail paint designs... And gossip and trivia that doesn’t interest, excite or concern me. I am Stupid I take ultimate pride in not giving in and not giving up, but at my convenience, I tell myself that it is a pain one inflicts on self to be restraining..and I give in at slightest of temptation. I am as strong to inducements as I am vulnerable. And I don’t care. In the end, frankly, just like anything else, It doesn’t even matter.. I am Stupid. I do random stuff. Walk out of a party with barely known classmate to go to a

It is weird that in few things, I am so curious that I can go every length breadth height to find the answer, and in few other, I just don’t care. And what is more surprising Is that the ones that make me curious are trivial pieces of information most of the times and the one which I am indifferent to, are more on 'defining-me' types. Like God, like rebirth, like instincts... I can never decide on them. I call myself agnostic because I cannot decide if I am a believer or not. It does not matter to me much so I do not burn my brains. Yes it never bothers me. It is true that I have never had any religious inclination, in terms of praying, worshipping or anything. But I have, in grimmest times, gone out under the sky, looked up and said that if by any chance you exist, why is so and so happening. I have talked. More like talking to me. Though I am not denying that this too can be considered a form of praying. This is how my prayers are... My second type of prayer is when at home I

This was one of those Sundays when i wake up to realize that my light is on, I am still in my last night's club wear sleeping not on my side of the bed ( thankfully on my own bed though...all this is unlikely for someone with OCD for such things) I looked around and for reasons unknown, raised my hand to open the balcony and get a sniff from lake. Bah! One tight Slap I have moved! No H1-306 i am in 702 now and FYI no balconies in home. (yeh hai mumbai meri jaan) It must be subconscious response to so many June-Joka SM's i see these days.. Haan Haan aisa mere saath hi hota hai that timings are always completely wrong, my playlist searches and finds Early days and i wake up to 'I bank mein note chhapenge milega sachcha pyaar' cursing the whole timing thing....waise it was good 45 minutes past my 1st snooze but i dozed off so it seemed it all happened in sync. But ab no point cursing...ho hi gaya... the devil in mind entered the forbidden nostalgia kingdom and i flashed b

This most likely resonates the Friday night story of all 20 somethings… How was the weekend, what did you do…most questions, most answers, most conversations center around booze- the weekend vice… We take the pill of ‘life-which- we- do- not- appreciate’ each week and detoxicate ourselves with booze each weekend. Running from Mondays to Fridays so that the rest two days are spent in a manner that they do not even register in memory…the least the recollection, the better they were spent. What is it that makes booze and weekends a great combination? They are both tangible examples of Escapism. Now don’t take me wrong…I am a big fan of all three-weekends, booze and escapism –hence no offenses meant. But escapism is there for sure. Escapism to own what we do, or rather to disown that we are doing nothing about what we want to do. There is this baton that TGIF comes with. Weekdays take the brunt but hand it back on Fridays. And it’s painful to handle it for 3 nights-we quickly want to run

Thursday, 02 June 2011 at 20:22 Love is forever, so are diamonds. Try swallowing either...... It kills! How things get difficult when you expand the scale…. Oh yes, one starts as a small nice close knit family business but they go bonkers the moment you start expanding it and get aspirational. Two people hand in hand painting the city red or whatever is the agreed upon favorite color doesn’t sound like a bad idea. But try expanding the circle- colleagues, friends...and god forbade, I am not even mentioning the impacts when you take it to the family, that is almost like getting listed...er…public. Hence, starting from “how cute you look while you sleep “(hope you were lucky enough to have time and resources to see him/her sleep; classroom doesn’t count) the opinion gets overridden by voices “Doesn’t she look a bit snobbish?”” He’s doesn't look like your kind..””You can do better” "Are you sure?” So by the end of it, the cow starts to appear like a pig, that is, if it weren’t

Tuesday, 08 March 2011 at 14:19 Wake up in the morning, frowning at the very music that helped me doze off last night, deciding if I want to put it off or let it be… I decide I don’t want to make decisions first thing in the morning and ignore the sound, hoping my random playlist generates some music I like… A quick walk down to Mohanda, and grabbing coffee…to sip it in my balcony -overlooking the lake. Looking down at people going or coming back from classes and wondering which lecture it was. The library looks good from here, doesn’t reflect an aura of books, only adds to the beautiful reflections on lake. It just occurred to me that of the two faces, the better one is always fake… Why is it that lakes are voted highest each year in the list of things we will miss? Why is it that each year, a bunch of affluent, pampered spoilt kids come to this place from all walks of life and suddenly start appreciating or at least coexisting peacefully with crow shit stink, incessant sweat, bad ma

Please do not ever watch Pursuit of Happyness before important events are queued up in life. Not certainly before interview where you have to show high enthusiasm and interest in making big, earning money, high aspirations and motivations….not certainly when it is not okay to ponder about happiness. Small things in life that we can not care less about… 1:30 AM, ISBT flyover, Delhi...a certain January in my past at it’s peak Shivers manage to catch me beneath my jacket, traveling down the sweater, thermals, cotton and woolen socks, cap, muffler and um…adidas gears. And a man there, clad in a torn sheet… we stop, and turn and back to him. He’s scared…what r we upto? He gets up to go, we call him. We take out a sweater we were carrying… Quietly hand it to him. He’s about to take off the sheet on him, then looks at me…goes away, turns his back, takes off sheet and wears the sweater. Wraps the sheet back on himself. We notice, he doesn’t look back, walks off towards other side and disappea