Every girl has a story spun around the simmering water in which green leaves diffuse their crimson hue, making a concoction that silently witnesses: the moments carefully and delicately woven to form a tapestry of life, thoughts that unspool from the contemplative mind, feelings that unfurl at the bottom of the heart.
If you can befriend a cup of tea, it might tell you her story — the ones hidden in her eyes, crinkled with laughter or swollen with pain, in a stolen glance or a fixed gaze across the sky into the void.
You can take a peek into her ordinary life at the tea stall, holding an earthen cup of tea and chatting with her friends — maybe about the weather, her day, something very global, or perhaps something extremely personal. You may also take a tour of her safe space that exists in a small cup of strongly brewed tea, flavoured with drops of lemon neatly sliced through the core (it has to be through the core to extract maximum juice), sweetened with a spoonful of trickling honey; or in a freshly brewed tea in a saucepan, old style — sweetened with care, sipped peacefully as evening slips in.
If the tea trusts you, it can whisper into your ears her muffled thoughts, laced with emotions that swell at the core of her heart, often surfacing on her face, taking the shape of angry rants, and sometimes drowning inside her.
The tea may share with you its relationship with her — how they have a friendly chat as she brews it with ginger and care, and how it feels a discomfiting detachment when she sees it as a blend of bland leaves and obligation.
If you can really be its confidante, it will share her silent accusations:
“Who are you?” “to decide who serves you? To decide the worth of a woman? Why do you feed to the sense of entitlement, the devious practice of hierarchy and patriarchy?”
She would then leave angrily; her silent blame lingering in what is left behind in the strainer.
“Are you not the taste of love, the teller of how nature works — organic and simplistic? Or has the hunger for power and status of humans rubbed off on you? Why so desperate to make a place in the human world as a torchbearer of superiority?”
The tea will not defend itself, but will look at you apprehensively, searching in you for the answers to it.
I know you may not know the answer— like any other girl whose story resounds in its ripples — but remind it of the quiet moments she shares with it, when she absorbs the warmth through her palms wrapped around the hot cup, forgetting her whines, forgetting her triumphs forgetting her society dictated mortal presence and being just a soul, a body, and joy fused into one.
Give the tea a suggestion if you care, tell it to take her to the world that lies beyond the world of agony, complaints, accomplishments, and defeat, the simple world sheltering a girl — not fully perfect, not fully flawed, ordinary, yet amazing — just like life, just like a freshly brewed cup of tea.
“For Every action there is an equal and opposite reaction .”. Newton’s third law
Have you ever wondered that this aforementioned law can be applicable to your life too in the form of karma in such a glaring way ? I didn’t, unless I was forced to be confined in my own house for days, owing to covid 19 pandemic and prolonged lockdown, just like the tied animals and caged birds and was stripped of the busyness I always apparently fussed over yet secretly bragged about.
Anyway being tired of binge watching series and movies I never would have watched otherwise and voraciously reading whatever I am coming across ,interspersed with my random scrolling through facebook posts and even laughing at the memes that make no sense whatsoever, I thought of penning this down tonight .
This world made a wonderful revelation during this pandemic as I noticed its uncanny resemblance to a classroom. Mankind just like any regular classroom can be broadly classified into 8 ( eight) major classrooms making it a minuscule version of the world outside .
In a nutshell , study a classroom filled with students and voila! you know the entire mankind .
The eight categories
1. The obedient
Remember the quite bespectacled friend of yours, who always used to sit at the first bench and listen to every word the teacher said ? Exactly !!
In real world this type of person who would listen to the news very intently and follow every advice religiously. He/she will wear a mask and face shield , sanitize hands frequently and sometimes raise his/her voice against those who don’t follow the protocols
2. The adventurer
You will find them at the back of the classrooms because for some unknown reasons they believe that the inherently myopic teacher ( I am sure you believed it too) wont be aware of their existence if they sit at the back of the room. They are the ones who flout most of the rules and end up being outside the class holding ears , hiding faces when the girl/boy they have a crush on, passes by
In real world these are the people who wear their masks exactly where they shouldn’t or dont wear them at all .They have a gala time and good food with friends no matter what the situation is and may listen to everyone but eventually do exactly what their heart dictates.
3.The sufferer
This is the type I feel really sorry for. They can fit into neither the first category because c’mon obedience is boring nor the second one . They will try to look cool by tagging along with the second one, breaking rules unwillingly ,sometimes while getting wrongly accused several other times and inevitably ending up standing out of the room.
In the real world these are the people who go to a friends reunion with a sanitizer in the pocket and also frequently use it. They also remove the mask unwillingly and share a smoke with others only to avoid being labelled as timid and panic stricken. They want to be responsible and look cool at the same time but end up being helpless.
4.The hand raiser
“Ma’am I have a question” (Sound familiar?)
And then the lecture is interrupted abruptly, disappointing those who want the lecture to end asap ,eager hand is raised vertically and after permission is granted a question starting with a , ‘ but’ is shot
Well in the outside world they are the ones who believe in all the controversial theories that do rounds in whatsapp and other platforms and question everything that he has been asked to follow .
everyone should maintain preventive measures, wear masks and maintain physical distance
” but isn’t corona virus a hoax?”
” butIs not Covid 19 like influenza? ” ” but aren’t people dying… well…. because… people die!! .. or may… be…because ..people are mortal beings? !! ” ” Okay so I guess you get it
5.The helper
He/ she is the one who gains a lot of love because he brings the most delicious tiffin and shares it with all. No. Jokes apart . He is the type whom you used to call when you were absent in class ,to get the notes (unadulterated) given by the teacher in class or you really counted on on your history exams for the answers of short questions
A good example of this type is probably Sonu sood .
These people go to a great extent to help others during such unprecedented crisis without coveting much in return just like the boy who circulates the answers to everyone during exam .
They are the ones who choose kindness over rules and adventures.
6.The bully
This is the type I dislike the most. Their main feature is to poke fun at or bully others .They will target a victim ,harass them only to hide their fragile and insecure side beneath their vicious veneer
They will typically make weird not so funny jokes and pass rude comments on others , laugh weirdly believing that trivialising a serious matter with their stupid jokes can evoke laughter and intentionally come closer to you ,violating social distancing ,with their devious grin exposed.
“Why are you covering your hair ? does corona enter through your oh so silky hair also ? ha ha ha .”
” ya well !you never know if they can creep into your brain and distort it then may be”
7.The introvert
They are the ones with few friends and fewer words, often bullied by the notorious bullies . They will often get lost in their reverie, are basically hassle free and remain invisible most of the times.
These people are like someone you will never identify or someone you will rarely come across. But you can always find them in social media writing elaborately about every disturbing issue and spread awareness about mental health the most .
8.The complainer
“Mam she is making faces at me . ma’am he is staring at me. ma’am he is breathing” .
He/she is the who unites the class by being a common enemy. He/she gets upset about every thing and without wasting a minute goes straight to the teacher with furrowed brows and whining voice to complain about it.
In real world this category ,in all probability mostly comprises all the politicians who instinctively point fingers at the opponents to cover up every mishap and failure on their part or keep drawing unnecessary comparisons and eventually go off on a tangent.
They will sound somewhat like this
” Government should take responsibility for the shortage of vaccines”
” ya but we are atleast trying to manufacture and supply , what did they do?”
” but the virus didn’t even exist in this form during their reign“
” whatever! that is not the point here”
These are the eight major types that constitute the world. The rest are all compounds of them.
Dont believe me ? Try yourself
Travel back to your past, have a seat where you used to sit, shift your focus from your teacher whom you didnt pay attention to anyway, to your classmates and witness how this gigantic sphere fits perfectly within the walls of your memorable classroom .
Feminism has been widely celebrated either through successful women exhibiting heroic qualities and attaining great heights which is although encouraging yet offers a very narrow spectrum and fails to include the mass Or through women breaking rules which is good unless they are breaking traffic rules and glorifying unhealthy addiction
I feel feminism is a lot more than how many conceives it. Don’t you think the movement goes beyond gender battle and becomes a collective fight of all against that one dictatorial system? Doesn’t it include everyone who believes in living on his or her own terms without indulging in malice ?
I have always found myself drawn to the concept that symbolizes inclusivity and caters to the varied layers and the subtle nuances of every individual . I like the the idea of taking pride not only in breaking major glass ceilings but also in every bit of courage and confidence one garners in taking few little steps against unfairness
Movies play a pretty pivotal role in giving us an insight into several characters and practices Although I dont have much expertise in movies but I will share a very few women centric bollywood movies that I had watched not long ago and was greatly impacted by them .The movies probed into human psyche and explored the concept of feminism with much profundity
Queen .. This is a story of a simple girl who decides to go on her honeymoon alone after being rejected just the day before her wedding .
What I loved about the movie
The story traces the journey of rediscovering one’s inner strength hidden beneath the veneer of naivety and frailty . In the end she inculcates enough self esteem to reject her fiancee politely after he returns back to her life. . the story teaches to all and sundry that all one needs to do is be the queen of one’s own life irrespective of how he/she is treated by others
Pagglait: I watched this movie a few days back on Netflix .The story is about a widow who doesn’t feel any sense of bereavement after her husband dies.
What I loved about the movie
The story doesn’t deal with the extremes , instead it addresses the biases and stereotypes one faces in everyday life .It subtly highlights the regressive ideas that we normalise every day.
Thappad:- This is a story of a docile ,loving and caring homemaker who decides to leave her husband for being slapped ,in a party
What I loved about the movie
As you watch the movie you realise how the slap peels off its literal identity and becomes a metaphor for the nonchalance and disrespect a regular home maker faces everyday . again the movie doesn’t border on the extremes except the slap that plays the titular role but leaves a deep impact on the viewers mind making them question about the silent injustice they either face or do to others
Not a fan of horror flicks as I am a nocturnal overthinker and I hate the feeling of a hand crawling up from underneath my bed but I absolutely loved these two movies.
Bulbul:- the plot mainly revolves round two stories ,one of an innocent child who grows into an enchanting woman and the story of a witch that mysteriously kills the men of the village , wonderfully woven together at the end
What I loved about the movie
Every woman is like a perfect blend of goddess durga and goddess laxmi who shelters a fierce slayer and an assiduous care giver . It is the society who decides whether to venerate the goddess or unleash the beast.
The movie so effortlessly gives you an adrenaline rush and food for thought while taking you back to the childhood days of grandma’s bedtime stories
Stree .. This is also a story of a witch who abducts men at night . taken from a very popular myth the story takes a dig at age old ideas in the garb of horror comedy
What I loved about the movie
The story makes you laugh as well as ponder over the restrictions that a woman is forced to live with throughout her life ,fear of going out alone at night being one
English Vinglish This is again a story of a quest of a middle aged woman to learn the most revered foreign language to gain respect from her family members.
What I loved about the movie
I loved the way this movie represented so many people (not only women) in the society who have been looked down upon for not knowing a foreign language. The story shows how this weird obsession with the language strips us of our sense of decency and humanity
Today , owing to lack of any fruitful work, I decided to go through a news app during my off period ,ignoring one my colleague’s whom I spend most of the time with, unwavering dedication to enlighten the little ones about the past and being clearly ignored by another one for she found preparing notes more interesting than my constant ranting
Honestly I don’t like reading news as all you get to read in a news app is how this invisible yet mighty being is wreaking havoc on the entire mankind , probably laughing at us ,at our futile power we so brag about, or news on events leading to the obvious question- which flower should adorn the state ?
If you can patiently scroll down a little further ,you will be informed amidst all the chaos and hardship what jahnvi kapoor wears during workout or how Sara Ali Khan plays with her little brother
Ofcourse the last one is immensely important to me because I really want to know how to play with the little ones. Everytime I make my mind to atleast try to make my nephew who is only 3 years old , my playmate , I end up following his instructions and answering his incessant questions Yes, he possesses that kind of leadership quality . Although I feel completely confused about my own state or role in the game We pretend to play, I feel absolutely certain about his potential to become a minister someday.
Anyway while scrolling through all the disheartening or disappointing news ,I came across quite an interesting one today. A Mumbai based boy had tweeted asking the Mumbai police what sticker he must use on his car to avoid being halted on his divine journey to meet his girlfriend. Mumbai police had replied in a very apologetic tone that they had unfortunately not included romantic dates into the category of emergencies and also advised him to maintain social distance because “distance (apparently) makes heart grow fonder “
Although it did give me a brief bout of laughter , I couldnot resist wondering …. Isn’t the final message flawed? Haven’t we been shown in almost all the bollywood romances ( except veer zaara ofcourse where sharukh khan chose to maintain social, physical and geographical distance from his lover for the rest of his life for a reason I could not really comprehend? ) that the lovers must go to any extent to do justice to their love? Haven’t we been taught that meeting lovers secretly is the best feeling ever ?
Hailing from the land of Bollywood and growing up watching all the impossible fights the heroes engage themselves in, to be with his love interest? Isn’t it sacrilegious to choose health or safety over love?
Now ofcourse as a teacher I should not take bollywood seriously as it is my duty to tell my kids not to watch television which they don’t anyway, thanx to torrents and netflix .
But isn’t the same lesson taught outside bollywood as well ? the same value inculcated in everyone … That love be it (religious or romantic ) should make you transcend every possible boundary,ignore every possible logic and dodge every rational action .Look around and see love overpowers all
Have you ever wondered why the cafes are being spawned at such a rapid pace? Everywhere you go you find a café waiting to engulf you into its enchanting world. Remember the time when the trees used to shelter the fatigued souls , be the witness of lover’s tryst ? Well ! It seems that the trees have been terminated and the noble task has been assigned to the cafes. Sometimes I feel that they are the trees of our generation, organically growing at every empty space of the city.
They lure you by saying a lot may happen over a coffee but going by its exorbitant price and the sense of indispensability it creates ,you almost feel that nothing can happen without a coffee. You need those wonderfully designed overpriced coffees to meet a friend, have a date or make a deal. They are basically the reason why you are still or feel alive . They are the reason why you toil for more than 12 hours on weekdays and let your boss grind you so that you could afford a cup of overcharged yet unbeatable beverage on your weekend. . They have almost become an integral part of our lives,making its way , with roti kapra and makan (food, clothes and shelter ) to our list of basic necessity.
Planning to meet for quite a long time , my cousin and I, both being the same metropolitan species contracted by the same contagious disease of consumerism decided to go to this irresistible place called cafe. Owing to a financial crunch we both were facing, we planned to go to a comparatively cheaper café. In other words a café that serve comparatively less overpriced food.
We decided to have macchiato but the waiter advised against it saying that it would be too strong for us. I wondered why they have kept this item in the menu in the first place when they don’t intend to let us have it . Anyway, without posing a single question about it, we instantly changed our mind like docile pupils and ordered a cup latte for myself and mocha for him .
For those who are not a frequent visitor, choosing the right kind of food in a café is an ordeal. Despite the details provided below the esoteric names of the cuisines you will surely be at a loss as to what to order as like their names , most of the ingredients used ,will seem alien to you. After much deliberation and consideration of the sound advice of the waiter , we ordered a pad thai chicken and sandwiches.
The café , like most others ,was neatly decorated . The décor was in perfect harmony with the ambience and exhibited quite a keen sense of uniform artistry .Beautiful paintings that hung from the walls did justice to the name of the café. Everything seemed flawless except the rack of books at the corner of room. Although it added an intellectual touch to the décor ,I failed to understand the significance of its presence .
A thousand of questions started taking shape in my mind. First of all why would anyone read a book in a café? Secondly Why would anyone wanting to read a book go to a café instead of a library? Even if one reads to pass the time while waiting for the one he is intending to have coffee with ,how will he finish reading “Kane and Abel” in a such a short span of time? What fun is there in reading a few pages ?
Ultimately realizing that my questions will remain unanswered, I fixed my focus on the conversation I was having with my cousin without further distraction. Finally the food was served along with two cups of coffees. The coffees in cafés are interesting. Apart from ensuring a lot happen over them ,they successfully cater to your aesthetic sense. The coffee with floral designs made with cream on it ,is served in an impeccable white cup . My coffee had a leaf while my cousin’s a had beautiful symmetrical flower designed on it. Mesmerized by the beauty of it as I dragged it closer to take a picture with the intension of posting it in Instagram later , the world lifted its veil of ignorance and stared back at me, unblinkingly
I saw the new world , our world ,in its real ,unadulterated form. The world where the flowers on the coffee as well as those painted on the walls fetch more attention than the ones blooming in a neglected garden, where the books migrate to the tidy racks of a café from the dirt covered shelves of libraries and amidst such distortion of meanings and loss of purpose we exist ,as captives, imprisoned in the squarish cells of instagram ,forever tied to a cup of overpriced coffee.
There is a popular saying that “ bangalir baro mashe tero parbon” ( Bengalis have thirteen festivals in twelve months) indicating the profusion of festivals we celebrate every year with unmatched vigour and vivacity. It is like you mention a day to a bengali and he or she will give you a reason to celebrate.
Today ,15th April , is a very auspicious day for Bengalis . Today marks the commencement of bengali new year. Given our inherent penchant for merriment ,this day should have witnessed celebrations among Bengalis , way much grander than that of 1st January but I guess we have successfully moderated our frenzy for festivity, thanx to our desire to imitate the west and our inclination to dissociate tradition from modernization .
My first day of the year started with waking up late . I being a nocturnal creature or an insomniac ,not very sure , never miss the chance to savor the mystical beauty of darkness and ponder over all the weird thoughts that fill my mind at night and then compensate for the lack the sleep by being a late riser .
I would have got a good dressing down from my mother as it was a common belief that no decent girl coming of a decent family wakes up late but I was saved for the day by a call from one of my friends .After wishing me a happy new year she advised me to wear a new dress and feel happy because that is what everyone should do on the first day to ensure that he/she stays happy for the rest of the year. Still wrapped in the stale thoughts of the previous night I quipped “ really? But the time post 12 didn’t seem much promising to me “ “ stupid , don’t you remember ? Our day starts with the rising of the sun. So get up and do something joyful today” she replied .
For those who don’t know our days dont die abruptly at the stroke of midnight, it dissipates gradually paving way to a new one like a whining baby who slowly falls asleep only to wake up fresh and lively. Infact all our customs and rituals depend on the awakening of the mighty fiery ball . Although we lack precision as the time for sunrise varies ,one must agree that our sense of positivity is unbeatable.
As the first ray of sun invades the world blinding the darkness with its piercing light ,painting the sky with morning hue our day marks a new beginning with renewed hope and dreams.
After hanging up the call I checked my WhatsApp flooded with greetings . I realised I had to do the same. I downloaded a whatsapp sticker from one of the groups and forwarded to all the other groups and uploaded a picture of sweets and swastika painted on a bamboo tray with subho nobobarsha written on it , in my WhatsApp story just to stay in sync with the rest.
Keeping my phone aside I clumsily climbed out of my bed. As I ambled towards the washroom trying hard to shake off the sleepiness clinging on to me like a whining child , I heard my mother talking gleefully over phone, wishing friends and relatives a life of peace and prosperity on this auspicious day. There is a thing about my mother I completely fail to inculcate in myself. She loves to keep in touch with friends and relatives, her love well fed by unlimited jio plan and she does so without complaints. I , on the other hand is like that tiny snail comfortable in my own little world , who come out occasionally show my own true colors to handful of people and retreat back to my shell again.
Being a bengali and living in kolkata throughout my life,I have noticed and can state without fear of contradiction that nothing connects Bengalis better than plentiful delicious bengali cuisines . The success of most of the occasions depends on preparing and eating food together. I have noticed how every occasion begins with the preparation of an elaborate meal followed by stuffing yourself with more than you could ,at lunch for you can’t say no to your loving mom or aunty or uncle, almost everyone taking part directly or indirectly in the preparations, who coaxes you to have a little bit more. Being a foodie myself I understand the excitement and cant really deny the spurt of happiness I feel every time delectable food is served. Like any other occasion my mother cooked delicious food today to make the day special in a very Indian way .
The evening seems a lot more fun and exciting than the daytime on this day. People who are torn between their desire to celebrate and their cluelessness about how to do the same during the day, find a solution , a purpose in the evening. The festival of haalkhata is often celebrated on the same day by bengali merchants and traders. They close all the previous reckoning s and open a new ledger . They invite their regulars customers and gift them boxes of sweets and calendars ,sometimes ice creams and cold drinks if your lucky and the customers on the other hand buy anything of their choice or pay a small amount in advance .
In this regard I must tell you that we hardly buy calendars . The ones that you see hanging from the walls or neatly kept on the table are in all probability gifts we get from the shops we ritualistically visit on poila baishak ( the first day of the bengali year)
The jewellery shop located just next to my house celebrate the day with much grandeur. The roads get lit up with halogen lights and the air gets filled soothing Rabindrasangeet. People clad in new dresses throng the shop. The speciality of this shop is that they serve ice creams to all the visitors. People stand in queues for hours for the ice cream. The shopkeeper and his workers make people stand in queues to avoid the obvious commotion . My family is lucky as we can avoid the crowd and still have ice creams, well.. perks of being neighbour I guess.
Every year I religiously look at them from my balcony and wonder why they take so much pain to have mere ice creams and sweets when they could easily choose avoid the crowd, buy the same from a nearby shop at a price much less than what they pay in advance and relish them in the comforts of home. Their act seemed incomprehensible and downright ridiculous to me
But This year as I was staring at the crowd jostling with each other , with the same old curiosity that ache my mind , I had a realisation as if an age old secret was unfolded. I perceived, for the first time the latent happiness that lay hidden in having an ice cream for free when you still can afford it . The free cone ice cream that melts and trickles down the hand and bears the potential to spoil your new dress thus became the symbol of simplistic pleasure that we yearn to experience amidst complexities.
I realised how this day rises in stature in all its simplicity as people knowingly or unknowingly choose to peel the shell of adulthood and dig deeper to unchain and amuse the little one that stay hidden beneath .It discreetly reminds us of the truth that a true beginning, a true celebration of hope and happiness lie in embracing the one within ,in choosing to amuse the kid over flattering the adult and realising the value of a free ice cream of a fleeting moment amidst the perpetual hours of expensive cocktails.
A garrulous mind 