jutochuri.

novemberer sheet bhai,

dupure balaposh chai!

r chai bhat-ghoom.

i sleep snug.

barite elo thug.

and my doom!

kinechilam shokh koria,

to flaunt beyond garia,

ekti shada juto!

cholti bhasay 'sneakers' koy,

dokkhinao kom noy,

pocket hoyechilo futo!

khulia griller gate,

chor elo straight,

bhorlo juto bostay!

chilo arek jorao pashe,

kinechilam goto mashe,

marlo shetao shostay!

ami tokhono ghume mogno,

lost in sweet shopno,

chor holo polatok.

bajlo 4te, bhanglo ghoom,

out i came from my room,

kopale uthlo chokh!!!!!

shorbonash!!! what misery!

amar juto churi???????

eki odbhut kando!

bollo paser barir jhee,

'ami chor dekhechi,

chor in sando"

ma dilo ashash,

'amar bisash,

(chorer) pay hobe shoe-bite'

amio narlam matha,

kinchit komlo betha,

pelam respite.

kalto aro duto din,

ami sneakers bihin,

mone dukkho jobor.

ma gelo moodikhana,

sunlo notun alochona,

anlo notun khobor.

porechilo dhora chor,

near parar mor,

korchilo churi fer,

mar mar kat kat,

mere take koro paat,

thakuk kodin marer jer.

bosta holo investigate,

to his poor fate,

by local hero,

berolo amar dui juto jora,

kintu amar kopal pora,

ojana roilo khobor puro.

koreni naki keu claim,

juto jora to her name,

korlo chor korun plea,

'bolchi bar bar,

mero na amake ar,

take the truth from me.

korini churi ami,

jane ontorjami,

juto belongs to me,

rehai dao more,

ar mero na dhore,

shono amar plea'

gollo heror mon,

khullo dorir badhon,

dilo tahay chhar,

ek dilo shey chhut,

koria juto loot,

chailo na pichche ar.

shunia holam hotash

fellam dirghoshash

what a close call!!

peyeo pelam na shoes,

amar temper fuse-

parar heroes-losers all!

changes.

'Always' and 'Never' are two really big words and I feel I'm still a novice to use them. So many 'always's and 'nevers' have altered over the years. The damp in the mezzanine floor which always returned every July and never stayed longer than October has been an integral part of my growing up. It gave the pages of the old books in the room a characteristic smell. The smell of monsoon and things very old. But last year once baba renovated the house, the damp did not return and shall not do so for many years to come . Atleast baba hopes so. Never have my parents been as old as they are-my baba nearing an age when he will get pensions and free tickets to multiplexes. My ma no longer complains about her hairfall. The complaints are now about hair that is fast greying. So many 'always's have changed into 'nevers' in their lives as well. Ma, who made it mandatory for her family to brush their teeth before retiring to bed has herself given up on the habit altogether. She feels too tired after completing the chores which she has always been doing for the last twenty five years. I, too am fast approaching an age when the 'what next' question is beginning to gnaw at my conscience. When 'next' will not mean choosing optionals for my next semester. It will also mean smiling even more broadly at the face of failures and rejections. It will also imply that the 'I love you' that I have been saying always and everyday to my loverboy will have additions like ' I love you very much', ' I love you enough to take you home to meet my dad' and then ' I love you so much so that I want to spend the rest of my life with you'. The loverboy too has never been what he is today. Never has he been a man before-a man who comes in sweats but smells sweet of hard work. Friends have always 'been there'. But never have some 'been there' in such ways that they have served as learning lessons. Lessons which have taught you to choose your dignity instead of idle hours wasted over tea cups and small talks that leave you spitefully satisfied. Life is such. Never in Kolkata has winters been so warm ,the sky so grey and the trees still so green.

I shamelessly confess, this is my effort to belong. It is the fag end of the year 2009,I have completed my graduation with a graceful second division and have gracefully survived the failure in two consecutive Japanese Language Proficiency Test(once by a very narrow margin of only 1 mark). Have seen the worst possible family feuds- cried on the outside and dried inside.Have fallen apart with good friends, been low on love and yet pinned together the shoe and the sole and managed to walk on. But this art of blogging remained undeciphered. By now I have figured out I have nothing to say that I did not already state the moment I figured out in my mind and if I did not state it then, it is definitely not something to be stated in a blog. But I want to, need to and have to belong and today, tonight it has become as much an urgency as digging your nose in winter when everything is so goddamn dry!!!! you get it right?