nikitachakraborty.com

Category: Bangalore Blogger

  • The journey of being ‘fat’ and other negative adjectives

    Disclaimer: My feminist hormone hasn’t taken a toll on me ‘cause I ain’t believe in being half a feminist. Don’t preach what you can’t do is what I go by.  

    I have heard my fair share of slut-shaming comments, fat comments,  you’re too tall to wear heels comments. Ever since I knew and understood what being ‘fat’ meant, I saw myself as one. I have always been fat (read: healthier), child. To be honest, until I was 17, right before I got through college, I wasn’t bothered about my weight. I was healthy, played a lot and did not hog junk. My mother mostly cooked the so-called Bengali ‘junk’ food at home. Also, back then, Guwahati did not have any pizza joints, Mc D or a Subway. So I was at peace.

    After finishing high school and having about three months of free time before I could join college, social media was taking over my sanity and making me realize that I am fat and I need to mend the way I look. I thought I looked manly. I have bad quality hair. I have scratches all over the knee since I played a lot and kept bruising now and then. I have fat arms and cannot wear sleeveless. I was so obsessed with having straight hair that I used the clothing iron and straightened my hair! This sad thing finally triggered my father and out of sympathy, he gave me money to permanently straighten my hair. And I, believe me, I regret doing it even 10 years later. I still like myself in straight hair and I set my hair every morning before work, but I am okay with my hair being wavy sometimes.

    So, during the free months before joining college, I started to ‘work’ on my body, in a good way though. I am someone who loves non-veg and would starve without it. I cannot deal with vegetarian food unless it’s paneer. That someone stopped non-veg, the so-called junk that I used to eat and started climbing the stairs (6 floors) every day for about 2-3 times a day. I lost weight by the time I had to join college and I liked my body. I enjoyed every pinch of the attention that I got from the boys in my college. I was an idiot when I was 18. I thought only thin chicks could look good and hot. I did not realize that a good relationship did not mean having just a good body, it needed a mental connection, similarity too. I hardly ate decent food. I was living in the hostel and the food was all the more so terrible that I mostly skipped meals and survived on Maggi. Gradually, I became thinner and started to look sick. Mind you, not skinny, sick. My face had fallen flat. I used to be ecstatic when a size S would fit me. I still did not realize what it took to look decently good. A healthy mind. Stable mental health. That was missing!

    It took me 5 years after leaving college to understand that I was pushing myself to the edge. Somebody calling me fat affected so much that I started skipping meals for months just to reduce my ‘fat’! I have heard two terrible things from two respective ex’s back in college: You looked so hot when you were thin. That friend of yours wears make up and looks so good. Why don’t you put on some and hide the acne marks? I did not lose my shit with the first one because hello! I was 18 and a jackass. But I lose the absolute shit with the second one and since then kept away from guys till I met the man of the house. 

    I have also been conscious with marks on my legs and was a tad weird about wearing short clothes. But then why should I be? Those are good bruises. I was a happy child who played, fell down and scraped her knees.

    The situation now has of course, changed in the last 10 years. I wouldn’t say I struggle my weight, or I am desperate to lose it. I mostly care about losing it when I see myself not fitting into my old clothes or fit into one that I like and don’t have it in my size.
    But of course, I have had my fair share of comments of being fat and wearing clothes that an hourglass body like mine ‘shouldn’t’ or rather people thought that I shouldn’t. I have been body-shamed and slut-shamed back in college for wearing short clothes or showing cleavage. Unfortunately, Instagram DM’s still slut shames me. Another very funny comment that I still receive: You are so tall! Why do you wear heels? – ‘Cause I fucking like it man! I like my freaking butt when I wear a heel.

    While I was penning down the painfully ‘funny’ comments here,  I comprehend there’s one more because I have been told so. A healthy woman (read:fat from misogynist fucks) shouldn’t have short hair and instead have Nihar Kesh Kanti Oil Long hair. I did not ask why. I laughed and ended the conversation with – ah huh.

    It is unfortunate that a woman is called fat if she is healthy, sukdi – haddi if she is thin, whore if she’s showing skin, plastic if she wears make up! Why can’t people (not just guys, mind you) let a woman breathe at her own fucking will and pace?

    Over time, I realized and I’m still learning to not give two fucks about it. I’ll be honest though. I do feel bad at times but then again my self-motivated soul stops giving any fucks. My self proclaimed thoughts of having fat arms and therefore not being able to wear sleeveless, strings or a bikini came to an end! And I love myself in whatever I wear now. I don’t care if I have fat where I shouldn’t or my boobs seem to sag (supposed to happen with age and I cannot afford a boob job). I like myself in it and I did take time to do that in my so-called fat bod.

    Now when I compare the 10 year old me with the current zero fuck person, I feel relieved to be what I am and where I am. Still working at stabilizing the mental health because it is an ongoing & daily process. A good mental health takes shit amount of work being on it to keep it positive. It ain’t easy, I must say. But I’m still learning. Also, not that I don’t work out. I do. But I don’t watch what I eat all the time because I love food! And that is why I lose it slowly. But I’m happy being decently strong and fit.

    -Wildchild

  • The day I became a Mum!

    The day I became a Mum!

    Just about 3 weeks ago, I was just Nikita, a wife though but not a Mum. Not even close to becoming one. Had no thoughts about it, no plans, no mood. Honestly, I felt like one only when I watched the videos that came on my Facebook and Instagram Feed.

    But then, it suddenly happened.  Rohan and I did keep talking about it. Watched ‘n’ number of videos and thought about becoming parents but then we backed out every time since we both work full time. We went nuts after seeing videos of Golden Retrievers and German Shepherds. And also, Rohan wanted a German Shepherd and I wanted a Pug. He doesn’t like smaller dogs, Says they are useless. XD And no way was I getting a German Shepherd. I fucking pee on my pants even if they are a kilometer away. I know they are the best dogs. So our conversations about getting one always narrowed down to Golden Retrievers.

    And then, one fine Friday, we were working from home and the man of the house suddenly started checking adoption centers, kennels and what not. The man of the house wanted a dog since the past 2 years and I wasn’t very keen on that thought. Mainly, because I have always been scared of them after one chased me like a mad man back in my childhood. Pretty much the scene from Bhaag Milkha Bhaag. “Ekbaar pagal kutta piche pad gaya tha. Kheto se lekar ghar tak bhaga tha”. However, after meeting Rohan, my fear eventually was overpowered by furry baby’s cuteness and loyalty and I started to dislike cats and love dogs. I started playing with them at my apartment, my Brother’s place, my office and any other place where I found one. My Instagram search feed was full of dog videos. Every kind.

    So the next Saturday, we casually called one of our friend who’s Golden Baby had given birth to a litter and we casually went to check them. We reached there and started playing them and just cuddling them. By then, the man of the house and I were mentally parents and started talking about his food, vaccination and all other kinds of stuff. Soon, we had ‘Kuttush’ in a box, in our car, on my lap. And there, we became parents in a day.

    Honestly, I was fucking nervous, weird, anxious and what not. Because, obviously, duh! This was a whole new experience for both of us. And you know, Rohan had the name Kuttush in mind since the day we started talking about dogs. When we saw that little guy, he felt like Kuttush. He was one little, fluffy, innocent looking guy who pooped on my lap while going back home. I was fucking annoyed with that warm, liquid, gross poop on my lap but I did not react. I wasn’t angry on the little guy instead I felt sorry that Kuttush was tired, freaked out about going to his new home and pooped right there because he had no way out. And bang! I became a Mum 😐

    Trust me, it wasn’t easy and it is still not easy for me to accept that our lives have changed. We are getting accustomed to him being with us because we love him.

    The first day, sir pooped twice on my carpet and I sent it for washing, got it back and rolled it forever. Then came in Rohan’s gym shoes. He chewed them away to glory and then I packed all our shoes into the cupboard. The weird part is it’s fun watching him do all that.

    Then came the second day and the responsibility part. Waking up way before we actually woke up to give him food, ask him to poop and pee on the pad. I lost my shit. I lost my shit at the house being dirty to a level that I can never imagine. But then, all this goes away when I look at his face. But again, I won’t lie, it’s a task coming back home from work and cleaning the entire house and then not getting enough sleep and running back to work the next day. No kidding, but I have literally spent two hours everyday sleeping at work for one entire week. I am an impatient person so handling a dog and being patient with his potty training is an extremely tedious task for me. But you know what? I have Rohan who is by far the most patient guy and the best Father that Kuttush can ever get. He is the man who every girl would actually want. He is so good with Kuttush that I have become less anxious and worried now.

    I know we need to sacrifice our date nights, movie nights, drinking nights at pubs for another month at least. But this is all an experience that I don’t think anyone who loves dogs would not want to experience. Coming back home and Kuttush jumping at me and sitting on my lap like there’s no tomorrow is something that I enjoy. Hearing all this to do’s from Rohan and what new chew and ruined is again something that does make me angry but then I think it’s okay. Maybe, it’s okay to not have a perfect, neat and clean home. I am still not completely okay about this. I need time. I am pretty sure Kuttush will change my thoughts and my weird obsession with cleanliness. The other day he made three tiny holes on my new curtain. My heart cried but then eventually I racked those curtains up and tied them to a level he can’t reach. I come back home and he sleeps on my lap like a baby and doesn’t do any kind of nuisance. Doesn’t give a jack to Rohan when he scolds.

    Cutting this short, bringing Kuttush home has possibly been the best that I and Rohan have done. Maybe, he will help us prepare well for the future. The love that he will shower at us is not comparable. It is unconditional. And maybe, he will also make us better parents and better human beings.

    Still bummed about becoming a parent though and trying to gulp a little every day by just taking a look at his face which is I kid you not, so adorable. I can see him growing every day. I feel he is growing by the hour. Or is he? I don’t know. But I can see him grow into a handsome, good pup pretty soon.

    You know what? Kuttush has a way to punish us too. Damn funny but yes, he does. He decides to poop in front of our bed if we are even 5 minutes late to give his food. He has all the weird corners of the house to sleep in no matter how comfortable his bed his. My chappal, Rohan’s toe, my kurtas, and dirt are his favorite foods now. He licks clean all my windows no matter how much I scold him not to eat dirt and eat the food that we give him. But, sadly all in vain. He thinks he is a power ranger and starts running towards us like he’s about to reach new heights at the Olympics for Dogs. But he can’t balance his own body. XD

    Becoming a Mum isn’t easy. Not at all a piece of cake and absolutely not if you are scared of dogs or are a cleanliness freak like me. I am trying hard and working towards becoming a better Mum. I am pretty sure I will keep writing more about Kuttush as he keeps growing and increases his to-do list. XD

    We are really are annoyed, excited, thrilled to go on with this journey. Kuttush is a bag of joy in our lives.

     

    -Love

    WildChild

  • Am I just ‘dealing’?

    Am I just ‘dealing’?

    How bad is it to not be able to make a decision? How bad it is to not have a sense of responsibility? Do you feel unwanted? Do you feel you have not done enough? Do you feel you could have done a lot more?  I think these thoughts are normal.

    I remember moving to Bangalore right after my 12th and knowing nothing about living in a metro city or rather a big city. I came from Guwahati which is a small city at least compared to where I live now.  I knew nothing about living alone. But I figured. Adulting was a tough job for me but I managed. I managed to survive, live a decent life, away from my parents in a city which spoke Kannada and I didn’t know jack. I still remember 1st August 2011, my first fucked up day in Bangalore. My parents dropped me off to my hostel. Honestly, I just wanted to get out of home after my 12th, away from my ‘controlling parents’. I think that is the basic thought process of a 17-year-old. I had no idea how badly going away from my parents would affect me. I am 26 now and speak to my mother for hours now, every day. Back then, two calls in a row from her or my father would irritate me. I did not even try to realize or understand their state of mind and what they went through every single day since 2011,  because I was 2000 miles away from them, on my own.  I was adamant, arrogant and barely 18 to realize that I am wrong.

    Months passed by and the dreadful hostel food which had gravy in every god damn thing started affecting me and my mental health who just wanted to go back home to her parents and eat dal, bhaat, and omelette.  I hated my hostel, my warden, that college, every bit of Bangalore. I hated that I had to study something that I didn’t want to. I did not have the decision-making power or ability. I was an idiot. The only thing that kept me going were the long summer holidays when I could go home.

    Two years just flew away in Bangalore and I realized that I cannot continue what I was doing. I was ruining myself, my mental health and my state of being a sensible, responsible, sober person. I had to get out. But how? All this hit me hard. I felt like I hit rock bottom.

    One not so fine day, during my summer holidays, I came out to my parents and told them that I want to quit and pursue Mass Communication. They freaked. I cried. They thought their daughter has met her end. They thought I will not be able to do anything decent anymore. After all these years I know that all their worry, tension, and anxiety were justified. After a long family drama and a LOT of talking, I moved to Delhi in 2013.

    My life has been decent since then, I guess. I studied what I wanted to and got a job. I realized where my parents came from when they told me they were worried about me. It took me long enough to understand my parents. But I am glad I finally did and I would never go back to the shrewd teenager that I was.

    I still have the problem of taking certain decisions. I stumble and fall and fail. But I manage to get up. I managed to make it on my own and I know I will keep doing it. I obviously have the man in my life who is my backbone and I know he will stick.

    I do get the feeling of nothingness and I do feel that I am just ‘dealing’ with all kinds of stuff. I do feel I am not worthy enough or that I haven’t achieved things that I wanted to by the time I was 26. I guess I have time. I guess I am okay.

    I guess it’s okay to not know everything and not figure out everything. I took two long years to figure out what I wanted to do. I took a decent amount of time to understand my parents and Rohan.

    I do have bad days at work and in my personal life. Doesn’t mean I will stop. Sure, I will feel miserable and live in a state of oblivion for a while. But things do get normal, right? That is how life is and will be.

    We all have terrible days in our life but that absolutely doesn’t mean that every day will throw dirt on us. Having bad experiences teaches you how to live a better, meaningful life.

    We should not project this onto others. I know I have and I am not very proud of it.

    Told my husband “you suck”; gave the finger to someone who did not even cut me off! Who do we usually project feelings of insecurity onto? I stopped feeling, thinking, but completely withdrew. I went to sleep and hoped that it would all end by the time I woke up. Or, tried to self medicate by taking painkillers, drugs, or overeating. How do I actually self medicate? I firmly believed that these ugly feelings are forever and if anything thing would get worse. “There is no hope, I am a stupid person”, “I will never get this”, “I will never…”

    I should actually stop for a moment and think. In fact, I should honour any feeling that I have even if it is the most impractical and illogical one ever. I should be kind to myself and show compassion. I should speak to myself with respect and dignity and not allow any thoughts of disrespect to invade my mind and my soul.  I should remember that this too shall pass.

    If all these are ‘dealing’ with the stuff then all right, I am gladly ‘dealing’.

     

     

  • Look ahead! It was just a bad day.

    There’s a reason why I am doing this. I have had a very shitty start to my morning and I wanted to write about it to feel better. Or not? Or at least I have a way to pour my heart out.

    Just this morning, I took a look at myself in the mirror, right before I was stepping out for work, early in the day, with no hint of cosmetics, as yet attempting to open my eyes. I understood how extraordinary I looked. It stunned me for a brief moment and I would not like to accept what I saw. Why? All things considered, not on account of I look “awful” without makeup. In any case, how I am molded to see myself with layers of foundation, concealers and all things not natural every day. I had forgotten how my skin or face actually looked. This is just a statement to prove how I feel about my own skin. I am not hesitant or I don’t refrain from saying that I don’t like makeup. I absolutely love it. It makes me feel good. But it also pulls me back on some days. Maybe, that’s normal. The next lines that I am about to write will not justify makeup. But, the reason for all this is only because my day started with this thought and I had to write it out. And it simply continued to be bad from all the other aspects.

    Why look ahead and get over things, people ask me. I believe it’s the best to always look ahead. We all have bad days. Bad days are a part & parcel of all our lives. You cannot, simply cannot be happy every day.

    So you’ve had a not good, terrible day, and you just want to make yourself feel better right away (corny rhyme totally not intended there). Trust me, I get it. Bad days are the worst, and after a bad day, you probably just want to crawl into a hole (basically,  your bed, with a bottle of beer and reruns of Friends), and never see the light of day again. That’s great, but maybe consider these other ways to feel better after a bad day.

    Maybe you got into a screaming match with your bestie or had a bad day at work or a fight with the man of the house. But, take a deep breath, because it’s all going to be OKAY. No, seriously. It will be.

    Whatever caused your bad day, take solace in the fact that there are things you can do to make yourself a little more zen and centered before tomorrow comes. That way, when you’re feeling 100 percent, you can tackle your problems head-on.

    Some foolproof ways to get rid of a bad day (my ways, mind you). You are most welcome to try these.

    1. Come back home and drink beer. Sleep it off then.
    2. Watch Friends.
    3. Talk to your BFF/man of the house/boyfriend/girlfriend/parents
    4. Listen to some good music. Preferably Metal. It will calm your brain as fuck. ( I can share a list of bands too.)
    5. Or Porcupine Tree. Always Porcupine Tree.
    6. Bring out a pack of smokes and READ.

    I have whined my share of how crappily my day started. Time to get back to work.

    -Love

    WildChild

  • Being Outspoken – A Curse or a Boon?

    Being outspoken has been both a boon and a curse for me. I cannot speak enough about all the judgments and outspoken racism that I have gone through.

    -Thanks to being outspoken, you aren’t afraid to say when you’re upset, angry or disappointed, which means your relationships with loved ones are always very honest and open. (This is told by the people who know me). This, however, is not true for me all the time.

    1. The Troublemaker

    Being outspoken and having a loud mouth often gets me into trouble. I think something went wrong during my developmental stages of aging and it caused my filter to break and disappear because sometimes words just come spewing out of my mouth. Or maybe, I was born without a filter. I have no control over it. I have constant word vomit/puke/barf, and my mouth doesn’t care where I am, who I am with, or what I am doing when this occurs. Seriously though, is there a number I can call to get a new filter? Or does any of the e-commerce website sell a mouth filter? I also tend to need to have the last word, especially in an argument, which never works out well for me.

    2. I Will Always Stand Up for Myself

    Being outspoken has helped me in a lot of ways, one of them being that I will ALWAYS stand up for myself when I am in a sucky situation. I am not the kind of person you can walk all over or talk down too, and I can thank my outspokenness for that. Because I stand up for myself I don’t allow people to treat me like shit and get away with it. I will let you know straight up that you pissed me off, and in the end, it actually helps a situation.

    3. Expressing My Opinion

    No matter what anyone tells you, your opinion does matter. Next time you’re in a situation where you want to state your opinion, but are too afraid too, for whatever reasons; do it! Your opinion can be helpful for not only yourself but for others as well. If you don’t stand up for yourself, you will never get treated with the respect you deserve. So, the next time someone is walking all over you or disrespects you, speak up, and be heard! My opinion is at times seen as an authority.

    I might come out as a very rude, arrogant, and opinionated person. I don’t want to justify any of those adjectives. Everyone has a different perception. I also reveal too much, too soon. This is obviously because of the missing filter.

    All I can say in the end is that there is a fine line between being Outspoken and being rude. And as long as we see that line clearly, things will absolutely be fine.

    -Love

    Wildchild

  • The story behind the big fat bong wedding…

    I am no Chetan Bhagat and my story is not two states. Same state, two fat bongs but interesting.

    P.S: Chetan Bhagat is trash by the way.

    I was almost obsessively preoccupied with the idea that there is someone who could see you—the real you—and love you unconditionally. I wrote pages and pages filled with descriptions of my loneliness, my longing, and my daydreams of the person who would cure me of everything just by loving me. (Those pages do not exist. I wrote them and tore it off. Wrote it only to get things out of my head.) Falling in love, though, is much harder in practice than in theory.

    And then I grew up.

    How often do you find yourself with people who believe in you and support you in all ways they can? Not very often, right? So when I met this guy, Rohan or, as you guys might know him, puch/puchu/boo ( as I call him with all the love ), three years ago I had no idea we would come this far. So I wanted to dedicate this one story just for this sweet little child (pun not intended) I have in my life.

    We are each other’s sidekicks when it comes to trying effed up things, this man is always up for any crazy shit that I wanna do. So as weird as I could get, and as I drunk I could get that particular day of October 2015, I met him, at my brother’s place. Now the weird part here is that he is my brother’s friend for the past 6 years back then and I never heard his name. So on this particular day of October and also it was Pujo, I met Rohan. I was sitting on the bed, enjoying a nice glass of monk and Bam! Sir enters. My first reaction: He is cute. And then my so-called ego hormone kicks in and I did nothing about him being cute. The night starts with usual drinks and he seemed to have a remote interest in the music that I was playing. Tell my brother – Bhai, kishob challache! ( I was playing I live my life for you by Firehouse that time). We did talk, indirectly, of course.

    Well the after a few drinks and the night staying alive, we started talking and gaining a little interest in each other. I will simply jump on the next day without elaborating that night in which my brother got freakishly possessive about me being close to Rohan.

    The next day started with a small talk about exchanging last night’s pictures of the party and that conversation took a friendly and funny turn and lasted for hours. So much so that my cell phone became a landline as it was constantly put for charge and I was chatting.  Cutting it short, we spoke about anything and everything. And somewhere it felt right. So right that we went for a movie and dinner date the next day. I created some sort of random story to lie to my parents and went out with him. The humor here was that our first movie together was Pyaar ka Punchnama 2. What a kickstart to a new relationship! It ended with a nice dinner wherein he took me out to one of nicest restaurants in town. The following days after the date ended up in more talks and my thoughts becoming stronger and firmer and all the more concrete. I was never so sure about a guy.

    However, our last meeting before I left for Delhi took a rough turn and things ended abruptly and I left for Delhi. The kid inside me obviously blocked him on ALL social media platforms. The next day after I boarded my flight, I unblocked him and there was a text from him in less than a microsecond! Nothing major, just ‘have a safe flight’ which bought a happy-sad smile on my face.

    The same night I was back in Delhi, in my room and was binge watching. We started talking again. And this time for good, I guess. After all the last day drama in Kolkata and things having a rough patch, he asked me out, drunk.  I did not believe him, obviously. The same thing happened the immediate next day and I finally gave in. And therefore, it started. My long-distance relationship from day 1 which ended up in this current, crazy roller coaster ride which is full of terrible ups and downs, happiness, and absolute madness. Those long-distance months were, of course, difficult but it sure made us strong. There were times when he ended up fighting so bad that things were about to end. But somehow or something kept us attached. After all that has happened, I believe whatever takes place in your place, actually happens for good.

    I lost my innocence to him in a good way. I lost myself to him.

    Whole lotta love,

    Wildchild

  • Tales of Pujo – Shada kashful and cotton like clouds with a hint of Darjeeling

    Tales of Pujo – Shada kashful and cotton like clouds with a hint of Darjeeling

    “We are now in the mountains and they are in us, kindling enthusiasm, making every nerve quiver, filling every pore and cell of us.” Whoever wrote this knows the beauty and the feel good factor about the mountains. Also, let me warn you guys, this article obviously is about my love for mountains but then this has the not so hidden emotions of Pujo. There is a high chance of my writing going haywire between mountains and Pujo.

    Sipping a cup of hot coffee, munching the delectable pork breakfast platter with Kanchenjunga in front is a view to die for. All these makes Darjeeling a very special place for me.

    If only I could back pack and run away to those incredible mountains. They keep calling me you know. Those white, silent (appears to be silent), and huge mountains who I feel has their own story. I am almost tripping I suppose. Basically, a week trip. Four days of Pujo and rest of the three days to Darjeeling. Oh, how I crave for it now.

    Now for a Bengali, Pujo is all together a next level sentiment. If you are a Bong and away from home, with less than a month left for Pujo and you are slogging at office, mood off hona banta hai boss. This feeling is like a reflex action. And to top it all, when the chicken maggi and pork momos of Darjeeling are just a few hours away from Kolkata.

    The look of shada kashful (kans grass), cotton like clouds, how terribly do I miss this here in Bangalore. Roaming all around the city for the entire night. Having some of the most amazing food from most of my favorite places. Dressed up in absolutely beautiful sarees and Pandal hopping (thakur dekhte jawa). The planning starts a month before Pujo, Shopping for all the four days which actually turns out to become a huge amount of shopping. Waking up at 4 to watch Mahalaya, that is my call. Shoshti gives you that hit, that happiness that Pujo has come and the next four days will be cherished for an entire year.

    Fasting on Ashtami morning to give Onjoli and then hoggoing Khichudi, Aaloo bhaja, Labra, Papad and Chutney. I can promise nothing in this world can give me more happiness during Pujo other than this. Roaming in Maddox Square and Park Street , all dressed up and photo ready and then having Kosha Mangsho and Luchi for dinner.

    The night ends with preparing clothes for Navami and more of Pandal Hopping. Bijoya Dashami can never be happy for any bengali. We almost have tears in our ears to see Maa go away and remember the phrase “Aashche bochor aabar hobe”.

    And before we even realize, its dashami. Dashami, however, has its own charm. Women cladded with lal paar shada saree (White saree with red border), all decked up for Sindoor Khela. Trust me, at times its better than Holi.

    You know what my alarm is during Pujo?

    Parar pujo’r dhaak’er awaj. Basically, dhak playing at a nearby Pujo. I do not want to watch to any fancy classic rock band play during Pujo (even though they’re my favorite). I love watching Fossils, Krosswindz, Lakkhichara play and let their songs touch my heart. For that matter even Bhoomi and Chandrabindoo will give me happiness.

    I want kochuri and jilepi for breakfast. Cereals are boring during Pujo. Only if I had a chance to run to Kolkata.

    No matter, where I live, my heart and soul cries for Kolkata during Pujo. I cannot. and absolutely cannot stay away from home during Pujo and it is so unfortunate that I have to.

    I don’t really know to spend those four days here. I miss home. I miss Kolkata. I miss Maa made Luchi and Shada Aloo’r torkari. Only if I had a chance, only if I had an option.

     

    -Maa Aashchen

  • Koshe Kosha- Where lyadhkhor bongs go to eat

    Koshe Kosha- Where lyadhkhor bongs go to eat

    Hey there foodies!

    On my haul to find good Bengali food in Banglore, I landed at Koshe Kosha. Koshe Kosha is a Bengali food chain which originally is from Kolkata and hasa branch in Bangalore too. Here it is in 80 feet road, 1st block, Koramangala and is open till 11 PM. The place does not have a great ambiance. However, the main attraction is a book shelf with some really good books. The exterior has some pictures of ancient Kolkata.

    This is an authentic Bengali Restaurant which is quite famous for the variety of fish served. Ilish maach (Hilsa) is their top-selling fish among the Bengalis. Koshe Kosha also has a good variety of mutton, chicken and prawn. They have one crab dish as well which is the Kankrar Jhal. Kankrar jhal is a typical bengali crab preparation which is supposedly spicy as the name suggests.

    So what we ordered are Sona Muger Dal, Bhetki Paturi, Mutton Dak Bunglow, Aloo bhaja, Plain Rice, Anarosher Chutney and Aam Pora Shorbot. No Ilish for us as neither me nor Rohan is an ilish fan.

    To begin with, Sona Muger Dal is Moong Dal tempered with Jeera and Green Peas. You can either temper in Ghee or Oil. Adding green peas is also optional. This dal goes really well with the Aloo bhaja. The Aloo bhaja I am referring to is finely chopped potato which is deep-fried and is very crispy.

    Next thing was Bhetki maccher paturi. This is Beckti fosh cooked inside a Banana leaf and steamed. I will clear the ingredients when I show you guys how to prepare it. This has a tinge of Sarso (Mustard seeds) and goes brilliantly with plain rice.

    Next up was Mutton Dak Bungalow. Dak Bungalow, sadly, is a near-forgotten culinary treasure that survives among a few remaining khansama families and Anglo-Indian households. This gravy is prepared with egg and is rich and thick and is a perfect pair with plain rice. Dak Bungalow is very well sauteed with a lot of different spices (details will be soon up as a recipe).

    The last thing was Anarosher Chutney which is highly recommended. Rohan has a sweet tooth for Chutney and when he says that a certain Chutney is good, it has to be good.

    I did not try the fish but I can blindly recommend some of them. A must try is Ilish Bhapa  or Bhape Ilish. This is one of the best Bengali fish dish and you will never regret eating it. Other good fish choice would be, Pabdar jhhal, Chitol machher muitha and Pomfret Jhal. These are all authentic Bengali dishes and should be tried for sure.

    I feel sorry for the vegetarians though (pun intended). Potol dorma is one thing they can try and they will absolutely love it. Dorma is Potol stuffed with Paneer. However, this dosh can also be prepared with chicken or mutton keema and tastes heaven! Another good try would Jhinge Aloo Posto. This dish is Jhinge cooked with potato and Posto (Poppo Seeds). This a very good dish which goes really well with Plain rice and Dal. A very simple yet tempting veg dish would be Alu Phulkopi (Cauliflower cooked with aloo and spices). Not a Shukto fan hence no recommendations. You guys can try it though. Shukto is one of the oldest and very famous Bengali dish cooked with Thankuni leaves.

    For starters, I would highly recommend Fish Kabiraji. Kabiraji is fish coated with eggs and deep-fried. This is quite heavy for a started. However, this has to be tried. Another good try in Mangsher Cutley. Mangsher Cutlet is simply Mutton Cutlet and is absolutely brilliant!

    For dessert, you can blindly order Nolen Gurer Ice Cream.  Nolen Gur is a famous jaggery from Kolkata and makes this ice cream taste like heaven. However, for the real Nolen Gurer Ice- Cream, I would recommend Pabrais. Its is an ice cream joint from Kolkata known for Nolen Gur Ice cream and Pan flavored ice cream.

    That is all about Koshe Kosha. Do try this place and let me know if you want me review any specific restaurant.

    Happy Eating! 😀

    Whole lotta love

    -WildChlild

     

     

     

  • I am allergic to a city!

    I am allergic to a city!

    Hi !

    Before I even begin writing, I need to make a warning statement.

    Offenders: You’re most welcome to criticize me/hate me/abuse me after reading this.

    This severe allergy began in 2011 post my High School when I moved to this city. However, I was told that this is a good city and has its own charm. After spending less than 6 months, I realized that I am in a wrong place. This city is not meant for me. To break the ice, I am talking about Bangalore. Very bluntly, I have never hated a place so much. I have lived in 4 cities, out of which Bangalore has been the worst. I don’t really know why am I writing about this but then again, I feel it would make me feel better.

    Anyhow, coming back to the point, I have my own strong reasons for my all my dislikes towards this city. Ever since I moved here I have had terrible things happened to me about which I am not going to write in details. People here are terrible racists, barring some exceptions. They have a problem adjusting with North Indians, or any other cast for that matter other than South Indians. I have been called opinionated, rude, arrogant and what not! Honestly, I don’t give a tiny rat’s ass about what people call me or think about me but then I have a problem with people interfering in my life unnecessarily when they don’t even know me. I was in one of the worst colleges of Bangalore (I would prefer the name to be not known) which had the most judgmental people I have ever met. I am sure a lot of you guys love this city and has not met the pathetic bunch like I did. I might sound like I am cribbing/whining which actually I may be. However, all these are just my perspectives about a place and you all can choose to ignore.

    This city has given me some of the most horrible times of my life and has kept me in pain. I moved on after two years. Moved on to Delhi which by far has given me the three best years of my life. The two long years in Bangalore were not happy or fun or even remotely positive. I did have some good times but the bad times were so much so that it greatly overpowered the good times. Two years were just in vain. My career went to a toss and I was broken. This city was breaking me brick by brick everyday till the time I decided to move on.

    There is absolutely no point in writing about something that happened 5 years ago. But destiny had the same city in store for me. Here I am in Bangalore again post my marriage. Been a year again, and trust me my perception about this city  hasn’t changed even a tad bit. The only thing that keeps me going here is Rohan, who has been through thick and thins. People here are merciless, rude, juvenile and so god damn conservative. They are possessive about their language and does not even try to learn a different one. Bangalore now being a cosmopolitan city should know or at least try to learn Hindi. I know I am whining now but I will still write. There is a critical lack of civic sense and humanity. Cab and auto drivers here are thieves in disguise. The fares are a rip off.

    Those past two years has been so terrible and that I can never like this city. And to top it all, that old curse of this city not being nice to me is still present. There is always a pit stop for me whenever I try to do something.

    I have people talk about Bombay ki baarish and Delhi ki sardi. This city has nothing to talk about except for foaming toxic lakes, cows and pigs roaming and pooping on the main road. Let’s not talk about the crazy mother-fucking traffic that this city has in store or you. I know I have to live here for god knows how long. All I wish is for things to take a little positive turn.

    I am running out of words. For those of you who read it till the end, thank you! And for people who hate me or have started hating me, you’re welcome. 😀

    I am going to come back to my old self soon and write about what I am actually good at. 🙂

    Whole lotta love

    -WildChild

     

  • When Mrs. Funnybones actually turned out to be funny!

    When Mrs. Funnybones actually turned out to be funny!

    Hi !

    I started reading this because of my immense curiosity about Indian Writers. This was a travel read and it made my travel absolutely interesting. I promise to only post a review and not the story. I don’t want to be called a spoiler and killed by avid Book Worms!

    This book, Mrs. Funnybones is by Twinkle Khanna. Let me give you all a little preview about Twinkle Khanna which I am sure quite a lot of people will already know. Twinkle Khanna is one of the most pathetic actress of the 90s. She has given India some of the most brilliant flops. However, as a regular columnist for TOI and a writer, she has done pretty well. She is unequivocal, straight-forward and an absolute to the point writer. Added to these adjectives, she is also witty and sarcastic in a weird but funny way which made this book more interesting.

    This is a small book and you can actually finish it in a day if you stop everything while reading like I do else take your time bruh! Published by Penguin India, this book is worth a read.

    This book is a very, very random book. In plain simple words, this book is all about her life (which includes her “Man of the House” and “Prodigal Son”). I love the way she has named Akshay Kumar as the “Man of the House” and her son as the “Prodigal Son”. Her mother, Dimple Kapadia has been portrayed as crazy woman. The way Twinkle Khanna has described her will not make you feel or remember that she was also a very famous actress. Reading this book was like talking to the author. She has also written about the arrest warrant that she was called for ‘unbuttoning’ her husband’s jeans on the ramp. Levis came out with their new collection and it resulted in an arrest for her. How smart the people of India are! So basically some very religious group filed a complaint against her that she ‘molested’ Akshay Kumar on stage. Ridiculous!

    Anyhow, coming back to the book, Twinkle Khanna presented her life as a very simple one and not like the so-called celebrity affair. They travel by Public Transport, go for a summer holiday and has a very disciplined lifestyle.

    She is modest enough to call herself a pathetic actress and give continuous flops. She now is an established Interior Designer and very good and ‘punny’ writer.

    All my fellow bookworm, give this book a shot and follow my blog if you think I am remotely funny.

    Till then, happy reading and do let me know if you want me reiew any particular book.

    -Whole lotta love

    WildChild