Monday, February 15, 2010


My name is Basu, and I am not totally impressed.

I anticipated MNIK to be a for sure sob story. I, thus, very carefully folded a handkerchief and kept it inside my purse. Khan always makes me cry. Each movie of his evokes pathos in me every single time I watch it.But surprisingly it wasn't as much of a tearjerker as I expected it to be! Not that I didn't wet my eyes-of course I did! But then I am mawkishly sentimental while watching soppy tales. I cry at almost every movie! But, in this particular movie others didn't cry as much as was expected of them. It was an SRK movie for god's sake, it is imperative to cry!
Anyway, my friends didn't like it much. I did. I'm a die hard SRK fan. I'm a die hard romantic movies fan. I love the surname Khan. Obviously I liked it.
And about Khan, the surname I mean. It can be said that the movie is loosely Khan centered (both the actor and the title). It is shown that circumstances arise when people start getting discomforted by it . But why? I love it! There's so much weight in it. Those who have this last name must be thrilled (or so I expect) to carry such incredible history and lineage with them. Now, I understand that the antagonism for 'Khan', as shown in the movie, has to do with the religion (that bears the brunt of terrorism) and not with anything else. But that's a topic which I refrain from touching now, as it requires a lot of time, blogger space and the right frame of mind.

Movies affect me. More than I think, that is. Every time I watch I watch a new movie, I think about it, in terms of it. I stay wholly/partially immersed in it for at least a week. Maybe that is one of the plausible reasons why I'm so unrealistically filmy in my real life. I daydream a lot about how my life would be (mark the words-'would be', not 'should be') someday. I concoct tales. About how something extraordinary would happen to me, how it would be a bolt from the blue for me, how I would rise to the occasion(it's my movie so I get to be the protagonist, right?). And then I just love weaving these imaginary characters, who always play the roles I chalk out for them, always speak the lines I want them to speak, and always wear clothes that I mentally design for them. Freakish though it might seem, but I usually don't rest till I find the right dialogues, or right introductory plots, or right dressing for my imaginary characters. Even as I type this I'm smiling to myself thinking of how a medico friend of mine would react to all this. I suppose he'd vociferously begin to diagnose my 'condition'. I can actually hear him say-"You might be affected by muggawuggawugga (uff, these medical jargons! unpronounceable i tell you!) neurological disorder". And that would be follwed by citation of hazzaar abstruse theories (not to mention the explanation of each one) that support the claim. Oh, I'm a psycho alright. :)

The nation wide V-day hoopla is finally over. Thank god. No, I'm not being cynical. I deal with facts here. I talked to eight different people yesterday, and couldn't help noticing that they were not half as cheerful as they usually are (and mind you they're all exceptionally jovial people). Status messages of many people only resonated the not-so-high-spirits. It's strange, isn't it? How come a day dedicated to love and happiness ends up making so many feel miserable? If I speak for myself, I get a little put off by the predictable nature of the day. As Oscar Wilde had put it-'Uncertainty is the essence of romance'. Nothing about Valentine's day is entirely uncertain. But that doesn't mean, I don't wallow into the mushy atmosphere of the day :) I read each and every V-day special article in the papers, even the message columns! Most of these messages are silly to the core, and asinine are the nicknames that people resort to for avoiding recognition. To gulabjamun from laddoo, to bakbak from chupchap, to jaadu cute prince from chaku- it's idiocy in print ! However, in this sea of unknown people with fake names and internet-acquired rhyming couplets, there was actually a message that I liked. I don't know who it was for or from, but it was what was an autumn leaf I withered in your arms...oh I wish I could remember it. It wasn't a poetry, but was very beautiful and meaningful.

I should seriously stop posting stuff at nights. My head gets inundated with thoughts/incidents I want to include but I then get all drowsy after a while and decide to make all the left out things into another post someday. That almost never happens; a fresh new day, a million new thoughts!

Monday, February 8, 2010


Neelanjana Basu is violently in love with a suitable boy ;)
Well..that makes me sound like the foolish girl Lydia of Jane Austen's 'Pride and Prejudice'. Ugh!
Maybe I should consider,
Neelanjana Basu has finally laid her hands on a suitable boy ;)
No, no..that would appear unnecessarily bold.
How about, Neelanjana Basu has finally found a suitable boy ;) ?
Umm..but that statement might as well have come out of the larynx of a conservative girl with
marriage-is-the-mission-of-my-life etched upon her forehead.Nayh, I will give it a skip.
Of course I can play the honestly card and simply stick to,
Neelanjana Basu is reading the book- a suitable boy.
But that would eliminate the double meaning from the statement, take away the fun part!

No, I'm not a fan of talking (or even writing for that matter) in third person. I stopped doing it ever since I turned five. I was trying to contemplate an appropriate status message for my facebook account. But then the nature of responses that this status message might have drawn had I most imprudently put it up discouraged me hugely.Hugely.Thankfully. It both amuses and appalls me at the same time- the way most people are unable to put two words of sense together while commenting on status messages. A friend had once put up a status of 'just woke up' .Three people 'liked' it. Worse still, a few went on to type-" hey, me too!"
Anyway, I'm so sick of these networking sites that I'm almost certain now that my days on such highfalutin territories are numbered. One of these days...oh, one of these days for sure..

I'm in a rather acerbic mood at the moment. And this, after having multiple mood swings since morning. Cheerful, when I woke up. Dreamy, when I went for a walk. Hopeful, after having walked several footsteps. Responsible, after father left me a job to get done. Temporarily relieved, after talking to a friend. Despondent, after talking to another. The despondency lingered for the entire afternoon, for it aggravated my grievance. Crying doesn't always lead to catharsis. Lost, while watching the random television programs. Impatient, when the repair person had still not arrived. Anguished, when my mind kept drifting to the reason of my downheartedness. Indignant, at the sheer unfairness of life. Doubtful, of my seemingly cursed fate. Slightly appeased after deciding to go to Crossword. Calm, after being transferred to a fictitious world of fictitious people. Annoyed, after returning to mine. Silent, while dining. Indifferent, while watching a re-run episode of friends. And acerbic now. But I've already written that, haven't I? Not the best of the days. Yes, it was a very unhappy day indeed.

But the few happier moments were the ones that I spent at the bookstore. This is the reason I love that place. It has an uncanny calming effect on me. Not just the books, the bookshop too. So, I picked up a book that I wanted to read for a very long time. I'm barely through one-tenths of A Suitable Boy, and already I'm getting this feeling that there's a distinct possibility that this might
become one of my favorites. I didn't purchase it. I mean, well..I know it is worth seven hundred rupees but of late I've been withdrawing a lot of money from my account and consequently a bit short-handed at the moment. Besides, that place has such a charm that I'd have wanted to sit there and read even if I'd bought it. It is blissful to visit on weekdays. No garrulous people, who after their unrestrained shopping spree at a mall nearby think it to be their moral duty to bring their kids to a 'worthwhile' place as well. Some sights are rather cute. Mommies reading out to their kiddos, or daddies explaining their darlings the meaning of a word or another. But the store attracts a good deal of pretentious crowd as well. They're the ones who bother me. Oh, but never mind those fakers. I don't pay much attention to them as long as I've got a place to sit and read peacefully. As I made my way to a comfy couch, my book clutched in my hand( well..that's not entirely true. It is so bulky that you need both your hands to hold it!) I realized that I was thirsty. I chose to ignore it. After reading a few pages, I read the word 'Ganges' and I felt thirsty again. The more I thought of thirst, the thirstier I got. When it could no longer be ignored, I headed for the cafeteria that is within the store. Now, these are exactly the kind of social situations that I feel awkward to be in. Going to an eating joint all by yourself and that too when all you want is a glass of water. To make the matters more awkward it was totally deserted.
"You don't have to order something only because you want water to go with it. It's perfectly OK to ask for just a glass of water. A lot of people do that, so what?It isn't a crime for god's sake!" I kept reminding myself. But even before these instructions could properly sink in my head, the counter-opinion side of the mind blurted out-" What a cheapskate! How ruthlessly you would shatter his hopes of finally earning some money. If it is deserted in such a beautiful evening, there's no chance he'd have had a single customer during the day". But before a rational conclusion could be reached between opinion and counter-opinion, I found myself saying,
"One cappuccino please".
As he began to brew, I added- " Can I have a glass of water please". Nicely done, thought I.
"Erm..You have to buy a bottle" replied the aproned guy.
"Oooh..kay, gimme one then". (Goddammit! :x)
Yeah, so I ended up paying rupees sixty and two for a sip of water.
I hate it when I'm like this. Too much uptight, too much of what-would-they-think-of-me types. This always coincides with my unhappy mood. I'm so much cooler when I'm happy. Totally unworried, even flaky at times. I love my happier, confident self. Wish I had a control over my mood swings.

A character in the book reminded me of a totally irrelevant person. Not because they bear any resemblance, but because my mind is a wandering freak. There are times when you're reading something particular and you randomly think of a person, to your own surprise. Later, every single time you read that particular thing you would be reminded of that very person who was a random selection of your brain in the first place. I don't know how this stuff works. But it does, at least it does for me. So, this person (not the character, the real one)-I despise him and I don't know why! He's just a random college guy I happen to know by chance. He isn't a friend or classmate or not even an acquaintance. We've never spoken, not even indirectly. And yet every time I see him I'm overcome by a feeling of resentment..for it has to be resentment. And call me a psycho or whatever, I think he reciprocates my cold gesture. There are vibes you can just feel. When someone doesn't like you, you know. Just the way you know when someone does. I've tried, not in vain, to extricate myself from the pool of such negativities. Have been half-successful. Now maybe because I've somehow got myself to believe that bad things would happen to me when this person is around, they actually do! And as a cover-up for my own shortcomings I pass the buck to him and convince myself by saying bitterly " Only because He was there". No, this won't do. Blaming random people for my own faults won't do. Also, I can't afford to prevaricate anymore.

I had to edit the previous line four times, which means I'm quite drowsy.

I hope Ms.Sullen Mood departs for good,
And pray, make haste, if she kindly would.
I hope she sets up her dwelling far far away,
And if she tries to creep back, may she go astray.