The Play’s The Thing.

“You tried so hard to not be a cliche. And that…,” he paused for effect and said with relish, “…is such a cliche.” He put the beer mug down with a smirk and looked at her.

Sitting under the small red hanging light, in the light-and-darkness of the cheap Chinese restaurant in Sudder Street, his face looked different. With his unruly hair that’s in stark contrast to his well-trimmed stubble and sharp words, he managed to stab her in the heart, yet again.

‘The root of all problems’, she stared at his stubble and pondered. He looks like a child fresh out of high school without it. But grow it back and it takes so long for her to come up with a counter. Such as… now.

Continue reading

Advertisements

Serendipity.

A balmy Sashthi morning in October 2006 is when I first saw him. Tall, fair, handsome. He wore a loopy grin that complemented his dark blue kurta. I wore a purple flowing skirt paired with a spring in my step. We met like a textbook Bengali cliché. During Durga Puja. That too, at Maddox Square — the playground of young adults, free for those five days, away from textbooks, away from routine and overindulgent parents — basking in the intoxication of freedom.

Continue reading

Dhadak Movie Review: Janhvi Kapoor And Ishaan Khatter shine bright in the glossy remake of Sairat

Three months before I was born, in the year 1988, a film named Qayamat Se Qayamat Tak (often lovingly called QSQT) released, that turned two wide-eyed beautiful newcomers into overnight stars. Aamir Khan and Juhi Chawla changed the template of Hindi cinema with their saccharine sweet teenage romance, fighting against their warring Rajput families. From the 70s angry-hero image, the audience was slowly accepting the dreamboat chocolate-faced hero who was sensitive and romantic. Times They Were a-Changin’.

Cut to exactly 30 years later. Two new dreamy-eyed dewy faces. The template of the story is the same. Them against the world. But it’s still relevant in 2018 (honestly, that’s quite sad). Janhvi Kapoor and Ishaan Khatter make a confident and sparkling debut in Shashank Khaitan’s Dhadak, the official adaptation of Nagraj Manjule’s 2016 Marathi marvel Sairat. Sairat was a sleeper hit – for the performances by the lead characters, the shock value in the end, the music, the hard-hitting socio-political statement – the reasons were endless. Manjule showed us that casteism exists in India – a fact that we are all well aware of, but too uncomfortable to sit with popcorn and watch the reality in a dark theater. That’s what made Sairat brilliant. And I wish Dhadak took that issue up a little boldly, with bare hands, confidently, and waved it in front of the audience as an eye opening reality. Instead, it glosses over the truth in typical Bollywood fashion and tries to polish the rusty, earthy bits of Sairat.

Continue reading

Roots.

I guess the person that you eventually become in life can largely be attributed to your family and how you were brought up. I’d like to believe I lucked out in that department. My roots from both side of the parents are from Bangladesh (then East Pakistan). Both set of grandparents migrated to Kolkata during partition in 1947. But my parents were born in Kolkata and they’ve only heard stories of their ancestral homes – Dad’s side from Barisal and Faridpur & Ma’s from Comilla and Mymensingh. I’ve only heard stories of our houses, properties and family in Bangladesh but for me it’s a neighbouring country with people who speak a different dialect of Bengali. What do you do when you know the origin of your roots but you don’t belong there?

Continue reading

Review: Foot Massage with Back, Head and Shoulder at Sukho Thai

If you guys read my blog regularly, you’d know I’m quite a big fan of Sukho Thai. Their services are worth your time and money and most importantly, they’re super relaxing! It was a working Saturday and I desperately needed to make my body feel better after a tiring week. Especially my feet. They hurt so bad. So on a sticky Saturday evening, I finished work and quickly reached Sukho Thai’s centre at High Street Phoenix Mall in Lower Parel for a massage.

Continue reading

The morning after.

The morning after a night of unplanned, impromptu, super hot tear-each-other’s-pants-off steamy sex can only go in two different directions. First, you smile sitting in an Uber Pool on your way to work, realizing only 5 minutes later that your grumpy co-passengers are judging you on a drab mid-week work morning. It doesn’t deter you. You feel so loopy in the head, so relaxed, so wanted. You continue smiling like an idiot in office sitting at the edit meet and can only visualize him naked, feel the touch of his lips grazing all over your body from the navel to the neck. Your toes curl and there’s a tingle in your stomach just at the mere thought of it. The nape of your neck feels a hot flush.

Continue reading

The best song in the world.

It was sometime around early 2014 that I accidentally discovered this song. It has been more than three years and I can still listen to it on loop at any given time of the day – after waking up, while working in office, before going to bed, while having sex, while travelling, while eating… you name it.

Continue reading

Yellow is the warmest colour.

Revisiting the past can be a terrible thing. And yet, sitting with a mug of Old Monk and coke, a burning cigarette dangling through the lips, I do exactly that. Foolish? Or, poetic? Depends on the way you look at it. Sitting in my dark room, with the dim yellow light making crisscross patterns on my face, I see the happiness I once left behind. I reach out to it in my drunken haze; hopelessly and foolishly trying to hold on to something that’s long gone.

Continue reading

Stunted adolescence.

When you’re 29, either you’ve friends who’re married or who’re divorced. Some of them even have human babies added to that mix (well, ugh?). There are only a select few people in my team right now, you know, the unmarried ones who have no fucking clue about life. Don’t get our tribe wrong. We do want to get married someday and we are aware that our so-called biological clock is a gong at the moment, swaying dangerously around our ovaries as a constant reminder. But you see, I don’t believe in getting married for the wrong reasons.

Continue reading