A TEA THAT WAS NOT

The long borne wish was going to be fulfilled today (early) morning. Finally, after years of longing and laziness, I was to visit that one tea stall which had been everyone’s recommendation. The ‘Let-us-not-name-it’ Tea Stall spoiled it for me(as it would for any other chai-lover as well)

What you see here is Disappointment objectified.
What the tea-sellers there were were Disdain personified.

After battling the restless crowd, 20-30 minutes of never-ending wait, rounds of calling out “Bhaiya, Bhaiya…(with my voice rising in a crescendo)”, sweating profusely, what I get is this…

This might look like any other ‘chai’ but if only there was some way to convey its taste!

First taste is certainly the last taste!

And the ‘band makkhan’ and ‘samosa’…
Let me put it this way- The sole motivation to finish it up was that we paid 60 rupees for them!!!

When something reaches its peak of popularity, the quality is bound to go down. There is no other way, no evasion.

To avoid degradation, the solution is to be the best, but, in isolation.

Found a commendable tea stall? Do not tell it to everyone! ‘SAVE’ IT FROM BEING POPULAR AND HENCE RUINED. As Kahlil Gibran puts it-

“Travel and tell no one, live a true love story and tell no one, live happily and tell no one, people ruin beautiful things.”

 

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When The Cuckoo Coos

Today morning, as I was taking a solitary walk around the campus and was admiring its tranquillity, a cuckoo’s melodious chirp happened to catch my attention. Immediately looking up, I tried to find out which tree was the bird sitting on.

A young lady, standing nearby, smiled at me helplessly. Nevertheless, I continued with my failed attempts to spot the bird. The lady’s smile widened. Now I understood.

“So, it is her who is making the cuckoo sound!” – I rightly concluded.

I let out a little laugh. We exchanged smiles; then resumed our walking on our respective paths.

Minutes later, we ran into each other again. A few seconds after, a cuckoo cooed again. The lady looked at the trees above to find the cuckoo out. She could not.

She looked at me. Gazed at me for a fraction of second and exclaimed- “It is you!!!”

I giggled. She giggled. We laughed.

A healthy and happy start to a lovely day…

Ah…strange strangers

A Cut Below

Me- Uncle, bass thode chhote hi kijiyega…[Uncle, make it only a bit short…]
Uncle- Theek, samajh gaye![Okay, got it!]

(‘Chhuk chhuk’ goes his scissors, snipping off my hair a bit there, a bit here. A bit more here, a bit more there. I sit there wondering how skilled he is at his craft! )

Uncle- Haan, ab dekhiye! [Yes, see now] ( With an intonation as if saying- ” Voila, behold my masterpiece!”)

** I procure my glasses, put them on, look into the mirror(Yes! That is how terrible my vision is!) and find my hair exceedingly short.

Now read the first two lines of this post again with an emphasis on the second line.

However, of what use is complaining?! **

Me- Haan, theek! [Yes, okay]

I return to hostel.

Sneha(after 2 seconds of awe and silence)- ” Hello, Sucheta Bhaiya!”

Ghosh(immediately turns her face away, looks back at me again and exclaims)- ” Amar meye aaro chhoto hoyegelo!” [My girl has become even smaller!]

FREE LOVE

Our customary vegetable vendor pulls up right in front of our house…

My mother, already awaiting him, names out the vegetables and their desired measure to be popped into the basket one after the other…

As Mumma picks up a vegetable, scrutinises it heavily, upbraids the vendor if it is found unhealthy, rotten, undernourished or whatever, proceeds on until her basket brims with shiny, well-shaped, well-grown vegetables,

my frivolous mind wanders over the lush green herbs, corriander and mint, ( and a few more) laid down in neatly tied-up bundles, each costing 5 rupees.

The lustre and density of their leaves gave me a sense of richness and abundance of our natural vegetation and, in my mind, I reiterate the immortal lines by Kavi Sumitranandan Pant-

ओह, समय पर उनमें कितनी फलियाँ फूटी!
कितनी सारी फलियाँ, कितनी प्यारी फलियाँ,-

यह धरती कितना देती है! धरती माता
कितना देती है अपने प्यारे पुत्रों को!

हम जैसा बोयेंगे वैसा ही पायेंगे।

And while I stand there, contemplating that no matter how much we ‘pay’ for these vegetables, it would never be able to equal the love our Mother Earth showers upon us, my mother, done with her successful negotiations with the vendor, hands him the money, takes the change back and concludes-

“Thodi dhaniya aise hi daal do…”

20180107_130935
This is the very corriander I am talking about…

The vendor obliges.

For, why not?!

From one Mother to my mother- Free Love.

THE TRUTH

Two versions of truth;

You say something, I something

Both can be correct!

 

A/N: This is my first and feeble attempt at SENRYU, a form of Japanese poetry. I know, there’s still way to go for me. Let me know how you found this one. Any new suggestion is more than welcomed.

INTERROGATION

 

Long time back I visited a park where there was this huge fountain. Struck by its monstrous heights and the prodigious amount of foam being produced by it, I tried to deduce the physics behind it. Having pondered for a while, I reached my answer-” So the vehement rotatory force of its internal motor is causing the water to flow so rapidly that it’s producing such a colossal amount of foam.”

A smirk hung around my lips. How genius of me! Deduced the answer on my own accord!

Notwithstanding, to confirm the answer with a person of greater knowledge on the topic and to magnify my complacency, I asked the caretaker of the park, ” Why is it producing so much of foam?”

So confident was I that he would answer exactly as I had thought, I was already giving myself a lot of airs.

He replied, ” We put some amount of detergent in it. The detergent produces the foam which you can see here.”

My entire world came crashing down to earth right in front of my eyes. How could I be wrong?!
.
.
.
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Years later, now, I am happy, for the simple fact that I know the correct answer. I could have simply inferred the answer by the dint of my own logic and could have went back home happily with my answer, but wrong answer. But asking the caretaker provided me with the correct answer, even though it made me appear a fool in my own eyes.

That, my friends, is the magic of spirit of inquiry. It always leaves you astounded with bizarre, unexpected but correct answers…

So, here are just two words to end this post with-

Happy Questioning!