From the monthly archives:

June 2008

162, Kalighat Road

by Trina Talukdar on June 26, 2008

“Ei dikey line lagiye chutchhey, kintu ekta make-up kinbena, chirunio kinbena…”

It was said so casually, by a pimp about a whore. When you think about it, it makes sense, fits in with the mileu. But it just totally held me by my shoulders and rattled me. For the first time I realised that “chut” is not just a gaali here. It actually has a literal meaning. This is the place where “fucking whore” stops being a swear and means ‘a woman who has sex with variousmen for monetary gains.’

I see tha lane flash in front of my eyes all the time. It’s not just a nightmare. I see it even when I’m awake. I can now make my way through it with my eyes closed. I see it so many times a day in my waking dreams, I have committed it to memory.

At the mouth of the lane sit the Nepalis in decreasing order of age so that the older ones may have an equal share of customers. Next, the bald woman sleeps on a bench on the left. The quarters of the Biharis are on the right. They eat ghugni at 4-30pm everyday. Then comes the tubewell and you have to jump over puddles around this patch. This stretch smells strongly of Lux soap because all the people who take showers here lather-up with Lux, fully clothed. You turn left into a tiny quadrangle. A moustached man sits on a three-legged yellow plastic stool counting money on a salver. There is a grey steel Godrej Cupboard with a cracked mirror, inside which a 5-year old kid sleeps. Six stairs bend left, then five more stairs steep up. The second-last step has a tile missing so you have to jump over it. In the room right of where the staircase ends, a boy watches circus videos on an 11-inch T.V. placed so high he has to crane his neck up.

The stairs lead to an open rooftop where children fly kites. But with the end of the season the kites will stop flying. Then what will the children do on the open rooftop?

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Confessions of a Bong-Buzzed Female

by Trina Talukdar on June 24, 2008

I had been up since 1 a. m. (don’t ask…I’m an ‘insomaniac‘…yeah, I know that the politically correct term is ‘insomniac‘…but doesn’t ‘insomaniac‘ make more sense? I mean it is a mania after all…a disorder, an illness, to not be able to sleep). I was fiddling around on my phone, reading SKC’s old messages, thanking the makers of snake (not God, the people from Nokia) for inventing a game which never failed to challenge you, even at such dead hours…eternally bored.

At 1:43 a. m. precisely (trust me, it was precisely that, because bored individuals have the tendency to keep obsessive track of time) Bugs calls. I thought it to be very weird. He knows I go to sleep early (or, at least, try to) and I get pissed off if someone calls me late, not to mention get into trouble with my grandparents sleeping in the next room, who do not particularly fancy young boys calling me so late at night, who did not have secure positions at government institutions, which will give them an earning all their life and me too after their death in the form of a widower’s pension. The fact that I was not marrying most of these young “men,” (as I preferred to call them, rather than “boys“) although a few were certainly on the hit-list, and that private companies secure safer futures than government jobs these days and that I would be earning my own living and wouldn’t exactly have to rely on my widower’s pension, and that this was year 2008 (bold letters mean I’m screaming!!) was of no consequence to them.

Wow! Have we drifted… Anyways, getting back to out little story: well, why Bugs had called me at 1:43 a. m. (N.B.:this was the precise time) at night explained itself as soon as I received his call. I heard wind whooshing past (meaning he was breaking speed limits on some car on some highway), Kevin Little’s “Turn Me On” (meaning that it was playing on the car stereo…yeah, you probably guessed that, but I was re-reading this part and realised that if I was in your place I might not have understood, but then again that’s probably because its 3 in the morning and I haven’t slept at all for, well, a long time. But anyways, not wanting to take any chances, I decided to specify) and he greeted me with “Wussup?” slipping on the double-s. He was drunk.

“Hey come out on your balcony!” Bugs screamed (Hint! Hint! He was very drunk). Behind him I heard a few other familiar voices echoing “come out on your balcony,” “your balcony”, “balcony,” “…cony”… I identified Carl’s, Joe’s and yeah- that’s about it; realised that the mind is not at its sharpest at 2 in the morning.

Well, so I went out to my balcony in my Tee and underwear (fine! I admit it! Make fun of me if you want to, but I can’t sleep with any form of pants on. You have it now! Out in the open! And I’m proud of myself the way I am! So there!) I heard Bugs asking Joe which one my building was. Wow! What had he drunk? Cholai?

(a) He walked me home everyday (well, Jahaan really…oh because he’s in love with her, but since I lived across from her, he dropped me home too… an over-protective chauvinist)

(b) There was only one residential building along the whole of the A. J. C. Bose flyover (Hint! Hint! This one building was the one I lived in)

(c)He was asking Joe of all people?

(1) Joe gets drunk on a can of beer and they’d definitely drunk more than that today

(2) Joe’s never been to my place

(3) I hate Joe’s gilrfriend (and yes! This has a connection with Bugs asking Joe which one my building was! How dare Bugs ask someone whose girlfriend I hate, for my address? If not all the other signs, but this definitely meant that he was drunk!)

So, anyways, I’m standing in the chilly night breeze on my balcony in my Tee and underwear, watching a stupid looking yellow car going forward and reversing, then move forward and reversing a bit more for about 10 minutes. I realised that Bugs is trying to identify if I lived on the hoarding advertising Vodafone’s roaming services right next to my building or the 10-storied building next to the hoarding. Finally as enlightenment is received, Bugs realizes that a hoarding cannot possibly have a built-in balcony, and the stupid little car stops in front of my building. Carl spots me first and starts waving madly. I surreptitiously glance around to see if any male on the hit-list was around, turns out all of them are asleep at 2 in the morning. Thus there being no danger of making a fool of myself in front of them I start jumping up and down and madly waving back. Encouraged by my enthusiastic response, Bugs gets out of the car, starts jumping up and down and waving madly too, accompanied by, “Hey! Wussup! What are you doing? Look, look! That’s Trina up there!” (Hey! Nothing much. I’m waving madly at a stupid-looking yellow car. And that is me up here, thank-you very much).

After about 5 minutes of this act a few arms attempted to pull Bugs back into the car, Bugs clambers into it and the car moves forward, not reversing this time.

I come back into my room, switch my computer on and yeah…that’s about it.

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The Monsoons Are Here

June 7, 2008

I am enjoying the monsoons. Got drenched twice today :D Watched a movie at Urbashee, a hall on Station Feeder Road (Siliguri). Sarkar Raj, the movie, failed to stir me at all. I was bored as usual. Frankly speaking, I fail to appreciate Bolly movies may be ’cause I am not used to this crap. [...]

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The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian

June 1, 2008

After “The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe” and a patient 3 year wait, “Prince Caspian” was quite a disappointment. Of course the cinematography is just as beautiful as in the prequel, but it is the breath-taking locales where the movie has been shot that deserve praise, and not the director, Andrew Adams. The surety [...]

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