Trust Me Not

It never occurred to me before but everybody likes to talk to my cousin sister.everybody wants and likes her presence,relaxes in her presence and trusts her as confidant.She fits in everybody's circle of trust.

Now it makes me think-It is not that she is the smartest,the only alive beaut or even a Jedi, which causes this effect but the secret lies in her very simple nature(God gifted may be).She is a good listener.She doesn't intervenes with her point of views.She doesn't interrupts with rolling eyes or edgy remarks.She doesn't even fake it(so it seems). She just listens.Period.

Many may think-well, she must not be wise enough to comprehend let alone point a finger.But that's not the case here.She not only listens but digs out the details and makes it look like the most important current topic.Sure eventually she pulls your leg but that's not the point.

As a matter of fact, I have the pleasure of meeting many a person with such unaltered quality.There is this friend of mine who,unlike most stereotyped Bengalis(i look forward to your letters!),bears this responsibility. You see, it is a necessary trait in a group of hormone hostages where impatience comes as reflex.So we need a confidant with Attorney-Client privileges.Enters this poor bong guy who has to hold the secrets and shames of most of us with confidence and even takes the bullet(s) for us most the times.Don't fake pity 'cause each group has a 'The Chosen One' which is crucial as it assures security and peace.

However it tests my patience to endure the woes of others and sometimes the lack of it.I have asked myself many a time that though people come to me for my divine guidance( yes i am that good),they still don't spill the beans before me(my elder brother does.Ah!how I envy his innocence).
Even if they have blood on their names,they would ask me hypothetical questionnaires expecting rhetorical observations,always fidgeting in my company and sweating like a pig for I may have enjoyed several satirical commentary to certain levels very now and then.

To be honest,my modula oblungata pains with the burden of truths of other people. I always have an itch to scandalize their events, taint there emotions and profile their concerns to be more of a nincompoop. This somehow tends to hurt other people but I continue nonchalantly(Yeah, i am the Dearth Vader).
Here I couldn't help noticing that this type of European 'ambiance' is unsuitable to some particulars.

Initially,I used to blame my murky aura and broken chakras- even checked my kundli and re-versed my Jataka-before the epiphany hit me- I,the evil genius,and the the likes of me are not the emotion atyachaaris but it is us who settles the Karmic balance in the chaos and it is us who set the barometer with enough readings so as to distinguish listeners from those who 'don't give a rat's ass'.

Now lets not forget that many jobs like consultancy,banks,legal councils,shrink jobs and what not thrives merely on the fact of the existence of such static nauseates.And stats shows that bigger the asshole,higher the rank.

So,Bottom line is: Nobody likes a untrustworthy smart ass whack job around but then,karma is indeed a bitch!Trust is a misnomer.Sooner you accept it,the better you progress.

Much favored Brouhaha

I have been offered many things in my life- self tattoo makers, door nobs, Cheek-In-Bum Pornotopia, even a tarantula but i accept them none.Some for redundancy(guess what?) and some for seer dislike.But one offer i await and do accept with a smile on my cheeks and droll from my lips.It is the free food protocol observed through out the world for something or other-mostly absurd but thoroughly savored and even criticized curriculums-the invitation to the taste buds,courtesy marriage.

This norm is a 'ne plus ultra' arrangement in the society which knows no bounds.The posh and the pinched both deliver and boy,do they get the audience.But who am i to propose such cynical conundrums of the the Wise.So i settle for the role where you usually play the part of a pleasantly surprised invitee and your reflex acts on the RSVP with a volley of thanks and a shameless inquiry for the extended menu.

So this teacher of mine who,a respected Sanskrit college maestro(no kidding!),happens to get married out of curiosity.You see,marriages in India are like swine flu,highly contagious with no chance to escape(masks would help in both the situations though!).Anywho, i somehow made my way to his guest list for the intended frolic which included the famed Baraati and a grandeur reception.I painfully managed to proxy his baraat which is a disgrace to my personal repute.But i sniffed and purred when i attended the reception in one of those famous 'developing pseudo-urban country sides' you often hear from your elected guardian angels every now and then.The spicy pungent air was the reason for my felis transmogrification.I felt 'The Hunger Pang' which accounts for most of the mishaps made by decent men during mouth-to-seat proportion insurgency.The situation is funny though.Every present bhukkad fakes lucid conversation while fidgeting for the instant vacancies.It's gullible,isn't it?So as it seems, i too made it through this social pact by communicating nonchalantly and reconnoitering, simultaneously.The size of the happy hour seems to increase but the Cap' in me spotted the right boards,scoured the sea of people and ahoy,i anchored(the whole place cheered and two pretties fainted with grace,Bravo!!).Then came the nourishments and it felt like an Oprah moment(i cried and hugged).The food were nothing but synonyms of delicacies.There was this pushto maccho torkari followed by maccho manchurian (deep fried), maccho alloo ghonto  and the fabled masala maccho torkari.The side veggies were paneer, potolo dahi and spicy mixed-greens. There was a fruit-N-nut     sweet gel to lather the tongue from the spicy ingestas.Every mouthfuls were different hues of colors.If that didn't tightened your belt and widened your waist,the desserts ensured the same.The warm paayas was ushered with rossogolla in it followed by cold frozen yoghurt.People didn't mind the loud burps and thumps for the bliss of the food were upon them.The whole environ correlated with that of a rehab center.The regular & deluxe paans were the protagonists of the epilogue.

This amazes me how people--who generally are viewed as self-complacent and reserved in this age of pace--tag other people in their happiness.This may be one of those primal instincts which also results in jealousy followed by grievous mistakes e.i. war for instance.
But food still cements those crucial bonds which are much favored and so much needed.

Al Fresco

Panacea of life may have been darted into my blood stream for life as i feel it now is no more a surreal syllable which was,till now,a misnomer to me.

The callous me is surely released sans its iron-clad proof of monstrosity with which it has caused undeniable damage.The contamination still vents off my body,the worst part,my vicinity feels it too(no pun intended). No matter how stalwart it appears, i still am a huckster where, nothing but, seer harum-scarum looms the periphery.

Undaunted desire of a philanthropist still persist in me but the feeling is silhouetted with doubts like of a virgin's.The thoughts are now followed by pregnant pauses.The present state of epiphany feels like the result of the fornication between smiles and sorrows. Currently i am in an incognito mode where i,strangely,have acquired  a tranquil zen-like trance to understand the past touts of my drift and the desiderata of privilege.
Though the time will heal the ad hoc wounds but still be borne with this burden of proof of life's ethereal subtleties.

May the campo santo in me be filled with these melancholies over time and not leave me anywhere but al fresco.