Foods of Kolkata!!!

Well, after writing so much about Delhi food, I decided that it would be really unfair if I, as a true Bong from Kolkata, leave out our own foodie post. But this list has not been compiled by me, I read it at http://www.palscape.wordpress.com/, a blog by a Probashi Bong, in love with his food. Even he claims that the list came to him as an email forward from some one anonymous. Now, its time I start reading all email forwards with more enthusiasm; who knew such wonderful forwards were doing the rounds!

But though it is copy-pasted, I have improvised a little according to my taste buds and added a few places here and there...So enjoy eating, er.. reading...Will keep updating...Watch out for this space...

"Snacks:-
Kabiraji Cutlet from Regent (S N Banerjee Road)
Moghlai Parota from Anadi Cabin (S N Banerjee Road)
Kosha Mangsho from Golbari (Shyambazar)
Phulkopir Singara from Mrityunjoy (Lansdowne)
Roll from Kusum (Park Steet), Iceberg (Golepark) & Nizam
Chicken Rezala from Shabbir (off C R Avenue)
Beef Steak at Oly pub with beer (Park Street)
Telebhaja from Putiram (College Street)
Daab Chigri and Chingri-r Malaikari from Kewpies (Elgin Road) and Bhojohori Manna (Hazra)
Fish Fry and ButterFish from Bengal (Behala)
Mochar Chop and Dhoka from Apanjan (Sadananda Road)
Boudir’s Lebu Cha (Deshapriya Park)
Kochuri & Tarkari from Tasty Corner (Mandeville Gardens)
Phuchka/Churmur/ Dahi Phuchka from Bilas or Boudi (Southern Avenue)

These are unmatched:
Chelo Kabab from Peter Cat (Peter Cat)

Biriyani (the best is at Arsalan, Park Circus)
Phulkopir Shingara: samosas don’t stand a chance against these.
Phuchka: gol-gappas are only my second love, mind you
Luchi: puri and phulkas - no comparison.
Alurdom: the world’s best. Try the offering at Vivekananda Park.
Jhalmuri: a unique concoction, with nothing to equal it.
Telebhaaja: these and jhalmuri are like ‘made for each other’

Chanachur: many have tried unsuccesfully to steal the formula, MNCs included!
Alukaabli: especially in Southern Avenue
Ghugni: again, chana is not the same at all. (And mangshe’r ghugni is even better)
Radhaballavi: try it with alurdom or cholar daal.
Chicken Chaanp: even Pakistani cricketers have sampled these, in Chitpur.
Rezala: (Aminia, Shiraj, Nizam etc): out of this world!
Sharbat from Paradise (Esplanade): there is one which is green, and another, pink. No college student from Presidency or the University has failed to sample these!
Mutton Afghani: an equally innovative presentation of the mutton cutlet. (Coffee House)
Coffee from Coffee House: try the float with ice cream(can tear apart others…)

The sweeter side:-

Amritti (Jalebis are no match)
Roshomalai: a creamy, mouth-watering delight!
Jilipi: smaller than the jalebis and tastes quite different.
Lal(Misti) doi: is an experience by itself!
Kamala bhog: a pale yellow orb, delicately sweetened.
Notun gurer sondesh: a winter speciality available in no other city.

Rabri: especially of Sharmas, Gariahat

Rosogolla: K C Das is the most famous brand!
Natun gurer Rosogolla: the latest innovation.
Shitabhog: pure white, sweetened to just the right extent.
Mihi Dana: golden yellow, saffron scented.
Maalpoa: rich brown pancakes, dripping in sugar syrup.
Ranga alur pithey: another traditional favourite in winter.

And a few more specialities:-
1. Aamer morobba - the best outside Gariahat market
2. Kuler achar - the best outside Gariahat market
3. Shukno mashla makha tetul - Available with the churanwalas outside all schools, much to the delight of the students and dismay of theparents !!
4. Dulaler tal mishri
5. Dulaler hojmi - mind boggling and healthy too
6. Bikrampurer kashundi - Mustard just pales next to this
7. Churmur - A mixture of potatoes, phuchka and other masalas, and unheard of in the rest of the country.
8. Muri ghonto - Defies description, a concoction of fish head and rice
9. Mochar chop - A delight even for the staunchest non vegetarians
10. Kumro phul bhaja - In tiny little food joints around Chittaranjan Avenue
11. Kada paker sandesh - A sure winner, especially the jalbhara talshansh with the liquid gur filling, which is sublime
12. Darbesh - Our own version of the laddoo
13. Bondey - a sticky sweet delicacy
14. Patishapta - A delicate crepe with a filling of coconut and gur
15. Chhanar payesh - Better than rabdi anyday and does not weigh your stomach down…"

And the list goes on.....

Delhi: A Wonderful Culinary Expedition

If the sights of the city have impressed me, then the food there has bowled me over completely. Throughout my stay for 6 weeks, I made it a point to satisfy my taste buds in all possible ways, and so checked out almost all the notable eating-places.

Near the hostel where we had put up, there were these two places in Gole Market, which served a palate of delectable culinary fares at a reasonable rate. One was the Bangla Foods, where I had the best Chocolate Mousse, some amazing cocktails and bought an assortment of cookies for home. The other one was Kaleva, located just beside Bangla Foods, which stocked close to 1000 varieties of sweets, namkeens and other traditional sweetmeats. They are famous for sweets that are made in the traditional way passed on to generations for the past 500 years. But what it is famous for is its fruit-flavoured kulfis. The kulfi is frozen inside the whole fruit and is served alongside. I was simply bowled over by their variety of kulfi and chuski flavours.

Speaking of kulfi, (for the uninitiated, it is a solid chunk of thickened milk, topped with saffron, cardamom, nuts and generally, falooda i.e. rice noodles), I must mention Roshan Da Kulfi located in Ajmal Khan Road in Karol Bagh. Though it is known to be the best in the business, I somehow found it over hyped and overpriced at Rs 30 per serving.

The Connaught Place houses many eating-places in and around, ranging from a number of McDonalds outlets, fine dining restaurants, cafes, dhabas etc. Shopping at Janpath usually meant a quick bite at the ‘Mc D’, a stroll at the CP Park with friends meant mouth watering chaat alongside, while Café 100 was the restaurant where we chose to have our farewell dinner along with our room-mates of the hostel.
But two eateries of CP, which earned my eternal love was a confectionery and fast food shop called ‘Wengers’ and a shake joint called ‘Keventers’. Wenger's is the oldest name in town and still one of the pioneers of Swiss confectionery in India, with a wide range of delectable viands to offer. For the past 75 years Wenger's has maintained its standard & quality introducing new items from time to time. Wengers’ Cheese Ham Sandwich and Chocolate Truffle remain my favourite, while one MUST try out the ice-cream shakes and milk shakes of ‘Keventers’, located just beside Wengers, around the corner. The chocolate ice-cream shake was perhaps the best that I have had in my life, and scores over Baskin Robins also, which till then was my favourite.

Another place that has won my heart (rather, tongue!) is the Andhra Bhavan. Their lunch thali has been voted the best in the capital city by the Times Food Guide. The vegetarian thali worth Rs 60 served us with rice, puri, two types of sabji, one bhaji, rasam, sambar, curd, pickle, chutney and halwa. Along with this, we had ordered Mutton Fry for Rs. 40 per plate, instead of Fish curry. (Being a Bengali who’s fed fish everyday at home, I, of course preferred mutton. But I have heard that their Fish Curry is even more famous) Even after all these months, I remember what a delicious lunch it was and how full and satisfied it left me. In my opinion, this is a must-experience for foodies if you are in Delhi.
A few tips from the author:-
Before you enter the place, be warned,
1. If you're the fork-spoon-napkin type, forget it. This is as basic as it gets.
2. Carry a couple of hankies. The non-vegetarian items are S-P-I-C-Y!
3. There are no bookings. One might need to wait for 15 to 20 minutes if you don’t arrive before 1 o’ clock on a weekday.
The entire staff is from Andhra. So is 80 percent of the clientele. All the Telugu chatter can be a little overwhelming sp. for non-Andhra-ites.

Another part of Delhi, which serves mouth-watering culinary fares, is Chandni Chowk. This stretch of road houses the oldest sweetshop namely ‘Ghantewala’, which went into business in 1790. Down the centuries, it has remained in the same family and is now in the hands of the eleventh generation. There’s an interesting story behind how it got its name. Ghanta actually means a big clanging bell in Hindi. Legend goes that whenever the royal procession moved down this road, the emperor was in the habit of stopping here for a snack – a habit that his elephant acquired too. We all know how passionately fond of sweets elephants are, so of course came the day when he found the way to the shop himself. Apparently he refused to budge and kept on shaking its head until people rallied around with assorted sweets. The bells hanging from the elephant’s neck would tinkle whenever the animal went into stubborn mode and shook his head. And from there came the shop’s name – beat that! The Ghantewala Halwai is celebrated for its sohan halwa, a sweet made from dry fruits, sprouts and sugar. I was in so much love of this particular type of sweetmeat, that I went back to the place on the last day of my internship (after my senior handed me the cheque!) and bought some for my sweet-crazy mother.



There we also had amazing kesar jalebi in the famous shop named ‘Jalebiwala’. It had been a long day at the Akshardham Swaminarayan and by this time, we were raring to sit down for dinner, and what better place than the super famous Karims, located in Gali Kababian near Jama Masjid! It is one of the best non-vegetarian restaurants in all of North India, and serves exquisite, "royal" Mughal cuisine at popular prices. Once you locate and meander through the tiny passageway leading to the courtyard of Karim's, the restaurant itself is really nothing to look at. The royal cuisine so revered by generations of Delhi-ites and international epicures are served in a shabby setting that belies the delicacies on offer.



There were six of us, one being a pure vegetarian ‘Tam Brahm’. My friend and I were staying in a Working Women’s Hostel, which served only vegetarian food. So we were raring to savour the first taste of non-veg food in 3 weeks. We started off with sheek and shami kebabs, and ordered some four plates of them to share among ourselves. I ordered Keema Naan with Mutton keema and discovered heaven! My friends tried out the Biriyani along with Chicken Rezala and raved equally about them. We have had these culinary fares before, at famous restaurants in Kolkata namely Aminia, Arsalan, Shiraj etc, but that day, all of us unanimously agreed that Karims served the best of them. Are you wondering what my veggie friend was doing all the while? She waited with a bottle of Pepsi and romali roti for the plate of paneer butter masala, which never arrived! At last, we had to cancel the order and my friend came out of Karims hungry. So if you are a strict vegetarian, take her advice and ‘do not go to Karims. It is only for those meat lovers’! Well, the rest of us left with vows of another return for that ‘raan’ in the menu, which sadly, never happened for me. For those who badly want to know the pocket pinch, it was only Rs 135 per person!
It was especially for our poor hungry friend, that we rounded off our dinner treat with mouth watering halwa and gulab jamun from a nearby meethai shop. And then came paan time. It was so jumbo in size and full of so many stuff, that my friends competed to put the whole of it into their mouth at one go.

I also had lunch at Sagar Ratna, a restaurant famous for south Indian food, thanks to the junior advocate of my sir. I really loved it there, especially some unknown chutney served alongside my dosa.
Whenever we used to be out in the streets of Delhi, we always cooled ourselves with soda shikanji, and the lip smacking gol gappa. Coming from a city where all of us swear by our phuchkas, it was surprising that I actually liked the sweeter version of it in Delhi. It is tad costly, with a serving of only six pieces at ten bucks, compared to the five pieces at two rupees in Kolkata. Though a hard-core phuchka lover, I became a fan of its Delhi counterpart also.

There are places, which I could not explore. I did not try out the roadside kebabs near Jama Masjid, (my friends did not let me, due to hygiene reasons, though I was all game for it) and also the famed Khan Chacha’s Kebabs. I missed out on sipping coffee at the old fashioned Coffee Home and numerous small eateries in and around Connaught Place. Well, I know there is a second time. I can go back to Delhi again and again just to eat. Who needs any other reason?

Delhi Journo: My First Impression

My workdays at Delhi consisted of either going to the Supreme Court or paying a visit to my senior’s chamber in Noida. The first glimpse of the Supreme Court left me absolutely awed. The majestic building, teeming with men (and of course, women) in black robes instantly filled me with a sense of great pride. This is the seat of justice where different lives are made or broken, laws are formulated and legends are born. During my tenure of internship, I had caught glimpses of legal experts like Mr. Arun Jaitley, Mr. K K Venugopal, Mr. Ram Jethmalani, Mr. Harish Salve, Mr. Rajeev Dhawan, Ms. Indira Jaisingh and many more. It is indeed a wonderful feeling to be able to walk alongside them in the corridors of the Supreme Court.
I was also required to attend the Krishna Water Dispute Tribunal, being heard among the States of Andhra Pradesh, Karnataka and Maharashtra. I had to take a bus from my hostel in Mandir Marg to Bhikaji Kama Place and traveled for about 1 hour, enjoying the highlights of the city. The wide roads, lined with abundant greenery were an extremely soothing sight for the eyes. I used to pass landmarks like the Parliament and the India Gate and never ceased to crane out my neck to drink in the wondrous sights.

My real woes began when I started going to my senior’s place at Noida. I had to reach Barakhamba, from where I surrendered myself to the only available bus no 355. Not only was it always extremely crowded, but also the journey lasted for more than 45 minutes. Sometimes, I hardly had space to keep both my feet. Sometimes, I desperately wished to get down even before reaching Sector 17. After braving this torturous journey in the sweltering Delhi heat for almost 30 days, I was not unhappy when my internship came to an end.

I also had my share of unpleasant experiences that come with traveling in public transport in Delhi. It is rightly said that a woman cannot be aboard a bus for 2 minutes without being felt up. I have heard many girls complaining about roving hands of Delhi male crowd, but thankfully I did not face it. What I was always putting up with was constant stares from all sorts of men everywhere. It was extremely disconcerting to find them staring at you, even at the danger of twisting their necks at a degree of 180. Most surprisingly, they never flinched if I glared back. As if staring at a woman was the most natural thing to do!

May be because of this reason and much more, Delhi buses had more seats reserved for women than what I have seen in Calcutta. But it hardly seemed to solve the problem. Men occupying the ladies seat refused, more often than not, to vacate them for a woman. I had seen two young men offering an elderly woman their lap (!) to seat instead of vacating the seat for her. A woman got barked at by a perfectly gentleman looking male, after she requested him to let her occupy the ladies seat in a particularly crowded Noida bus. I now knew why the women in Delhi never asked the male species for the reserved seats. I guess it is better standing and jostling in the crowd than get a rude answer on the face. A woman did not let her grown-up son to vacate the seat for me, saying ‘agar sab seat ladies ke liye reserved hain to bacche (!) kahan baitheyenge?’ It is not hard to guess how polite that ‘baccha’ will be towards women once he really grows out of his mummy’s pallu.
But it would be entirely wrong to assume that all men in Delhi behave in this appalling way, but this is definitely the general picture. The men used to be miffed at the scenario of reservation and cited the feminist argument of gender equality as a reason. But I feel that as long as there is no equality in the way women are treated in a crowd, then we are still a long way away for a society with no gender reservations.

Another thing about the Delhi population that put almost all of us in some kind of trouble was their sense of direction. Since we were new in the city, we had to depend a lot on the local people for information on direction. But the surprising thing is that even if they did not know, none of them admitted that and gave some kind of confusing direction! Many times it had so happened that we have been moving in the wrong way for quite sometime until someone put us in the right track. The traffic sergeants also fall in the same category. So if you are in Delhi and need help regarding direction, always go to the panwallahs, and other such small vendors. They have never failed me till date.

I should also mention my experiences as a single woman in a city notoriously famous for the most number of instances of sexual violence. As a precaution, we always returned early to our hostel and hardly ventured far once it was dark. But it was not always so for me. I took almost one and half hours to travel from Noida and more often that not, I returned late. One particular incident scared me out of my wits. One day I was caught in a dust storm, while returning from CP at about 8 pm. I was walking against the wind and could hardly see anything in front me because of the flying particles. Suddenly I found two men on either side of me whispering ‘akeli hain? chalna hain kya?’ I momentarily froze on the spot expecting the worst, but felt them brushing past me. This happened very near my hostel and god only knows, how I felt once I reached its safety.
My friend faced a nasty situation on the second day of arriving at Delhi. Her senior had arranged for a cab for her and another woman lawyer who was coming the same way. After the latter got off near Bengali Market, the cab driver informed my friend that he did not know the way to CP, let alone Mandir Marg. She reached the hostel at 9 pm after directing the driver herself using her scant knowledge of Delhi roads. There were times when she made the wrong guess and found herself in completely alien roads. But we could not help but wonder how a cab driver could not know way to one of the most important places i.e. CP.
Here, it is needless to comment on the scenario of security in Calcutta, since this journal is not about it, but I can say one thing that, there is absolutely no place called a ‘safe city’ for women. I guess that says it all.

One thing about the city, which I really loved, was the signals and marks on every bus stand and road indicating where exactly one was. We never had any difficulty in knowing which bus to take, or whether a particular bus stopped at that stand, as it was all described on the board. Also all roads had signposts spelling their names. But the rash traffic took some time for me to get used to, despite the fact that I have lived my life in one of the most crowded metros. Even in Calcutta, motorbike riders do not perform stunts (like riding on the hind wheel only) on busy thoroughfares, as they do in Delhi.

But there were some basic flaws with Delhi roads. Most often that not, they used to be plunged into darkness due to absence of streetlights (at least this was the case with the roads all around my hostel and some more). This meant that all you could see of the oncoming traffic was specks of headlights and it became difficult to ascertain how far they were, while crossing. Another inconvenient feature were the narrow dividers on Delhi roads. While crossing a road one evening, I found myself on the divider waiting for the rush of traffic in front of me to stop. A bus went past behind me with such velocity and force, that I felt almost pushed onto the road due to the impact. That memory still makes me shudder with a chill that has nothing to do with the weather around me.

But there are some things, which took my breath away, and Delhi Metro Railways is certainly one of them. Coming from a city with the oldest and first underground system, I was absolutely amazed after a ride in the Metro. May be because of the stark contrast between the ill-maintained, technologically-deficient and suicide-prone Calcutta Metro and the new, super fast and efficient Delhi Metro, I absolutely fell in love with the latter. I think the city has overcome most of its traffic problems due to this three-line underground system, which covered a wide area. Last seen, the city was working fast to extend Metro till Noida for the Commonwealth Games 2010.

So it can be said that, while I absolutely loved the sight of the capital city, the population there put me off in a big way. Be it for their attitude or their rude disposition, I would think twice before I decide to settle there permanently, if the situation so arises.

My Delhi Journal: The Begining

When I had bargained for a career of law, I had not foreseen the immensely exciting opportunities that NUJS would throw at me. I had done things at college which I had never thought of, met luminaries from all walks of life, learnt nuances of one of the most fascinating and stimulating courses, and so on and so forth. But nothing can surpass the chance that a legal curriculum offers to have a glimpse at the practical aspects of law through different internships at NGOs, trial court, High Court, Supreme Court of India, firms, banks and corporations. After I had finished my third year of studies, I knew that I was in for some memorable experiences of working under a senior advocate of the Supreme Court in Delhi.

While my parents worried about me leaving Calcutta for the first time and staying alone at Delhi for 6 weeks, I happily anticipated whatever that was in store for me. The days flew by and at the end, I knew that I have acquired a new dimension to my outlook. This series of journal is to share with all, an outsider’s (or may be, a Calcuttan’s) perspective of the capital city.

Give Peace a Chance

Dear earthlings,

I woke up in a shocked state
To find blood in my room
And how the thunderous noise outside
Made the morning gloom

I peeped outside and oh!
Was anything on fire?
Bright red flames danced all over
Never did they tire

Thick clouds engulfed the sky
With a complete blackness
Which my vision failed to pierce
Leaving me totally helpless

Then the answer dawned --- this was
One of those vicious wars
That you all fight for no cause
And leave each other in torns

As most of you voice against violence
I know I can hope within
You will give peace a chance
For a better world to live in

-----Love from Mother Earth

[This poem won me the first prize in a creative writing competition organised by the All-India Anglo Association in St James' School, Kolkata in 2003]

He Arrived To Her!

The clock ticked away
Towards a long night
But she stared ahead
For that wondrous sight
Of her man’s arrival
After a hard fought war
She smiled to think
Of the joy in store
She waited for the moment
When he would be near
And listen to his heartbeat
Loud and clear
Her warm smile shall
End all his fatigue
And welcome him in
With a kiss on his cheek
The clock ticked away
Towards a fresh dawn
The news reached her
Not before long
That her valiant hero
Is now a martyr
Laid in a coffin
He arrived to her.

A Pilgrim's Progress!

Before embarking on my first pilgrimage, I had asked myself whether this was a display of hidden traits of my spirituality. But the answer had been an emphatic “no” as we were undertaking the trip to the holy shrine of Mata Vaishno Devi, simply because it was a part of the itinerary of our Kashmir tour. But at the end of it, I was left enriched with an unsurpassed experience.

We had reached Katra, the base camp at 6:30pm after a 13 hour-long bus journey from Pahelgaon. After a quick refreshment and dinner, we were ready by 10:30 pm to embark on our journey. An auto took us from the hotel to the place from where devotees either start by foot or take a pony to the cave shrine, nestled in a beautiful recess of the Trikuta Mountains, forming a part of the lower Himalayas. We had already got slips from the Yatra Registration Counter, as without it no one is allowed through the Banganga checkpost. With great zeal, our group started the trek of 12 km, to the Holy Shrine located at 5200 ft above sea level.

The initial 3-4 km were dotted on both sides by shops of different things, ranging from ones selling sticks to facilitate the trek to the ones with display of Gulshan Kumar on cassettes of devotional songs.

It was not only we, but also hundreds of pilgrims of all ages, taking the same route to reach the holy shrine in those late hours. There were people who were undertaking the journey in barefoot or through a series of shaastaang pranams. The most dangerous part of the journey for me was the initial 9 km where ponies were also plying on the same route. I was knocked off by one and so, for the rest of the trek was extremely cautious whenever one of them was passing by me. At a point the walking trail got separated from the rest and I heaved a huge sigh of relief.
We stopped from time to time to catch our breath and give our aching legs rest. Though we were carrying only bottles of drinking water, the uphill trek left us huffing and puffing throughout the journey. We had been told not to wear leather accessories or have any plastic stuff on us, which are considered inauspicious, and were reminded every one km during the strict security check.
We saw many eateries on our way but nothing prepared us for a Café Coffee Day outlet at 3000 ft above sea level. So much for the comfort of us pilgrims!

It was almost 4:30 am when we reached the shrine. Though the weather was chilly in that height, we were hardly feeling anything after the exhausting trek. Our ordeal began when we joined the enormous throng of devotees to enter the temple. The counters to deposit shoes and cameras were quite a distant away and to top it all, they were underground. After we had descended four flights of steep stairs and fought with hundreds of pilgrims to reach the front of the counters for depositing all our belongings, we had to walk barefoot till the tail of the long queue and start a painful slow walk. The rope carpet (!) beneath our feet was wet and all of us got horrible blisters in the feet because of the sharp texture. It was almost after one hour of waiting in the queue that we witnessed the holy shrine but was swiftly whisked away.

After a quick refreshment, we started the return trip at 6 am. The pilgrims, who had reached then, were stuck there for two hours because of the morning pujas, which were being conducted. While walking up, we were enviously eying those who were returning, imagining that all the pain and breathlessness of the uphill trek would not be there then. How wrong were we! Within minutes of starting the trek, I realized that my legs were so wobbly that I had to use full force on the walking stick to prevent me from falling over. All of us were in great pain, which made it extremely difficult not to wince while putting down our feet on the hard ground. We tried to take short cuts by walking down the series of stairs but after a point of time, I could no longer fold my aching knees to do the simple act of descending down stairs.

We were so glad to be back on plain land that we readily agreed to pay the autowallahs the exorbitant rate that they were demanding. At around 9 am, we were back in our hotel rooms, trying to soothe our legs by giving hot and cold treatment. Everyone in our group was in excruciating pain of some kind or other. Those of us, who had walked up, had acquired a limp while others who had ridden a pony, were complaining of severe backache.

I could not help but recall the eventful trek and our darshan of the famous Vaishno Devi shrine and realized that my experience meant much more than the throbbing pain. It is unwavering belief that attracts hundreds of pilgrims to this place every year, but I will certainly attempt to visit it again for the sheer grandeur, serenity of atmosphere and cheerful shouts of “Jai Mata Di” that fills the air.

The Colours of My Life

The bright red vermilion
On my mother’s forehead
The yellow haldi streaks
On her sari, well-faded
My father’s khaki trousers
Patched and torn
His green striped shirt
A thousand times worn
The pink frilly frock
My sister loved
The blue denim jeans
My brother never had
Such were the hues
In my world
And then it was only red
And gold all around
At last, all became black
Along my way
And all that remained
Was a fistful of ashes grey

I know it has been long since i hv put up something here...pls blame the hectic schedule of my university for this inaction...n this poem was created in 30 mins while i was trying out for 'creative writing' team selections in my college...i was pleased to see that law has not usurped my talents in verse till now...this is not exactly a good attempt but somehow i was satisfied with this piece when it finally shaped up in my mind....

One Who is a True Friend...

One who walks in
When the world has been
Cruel enough to walk out

One whose firm hold
Brings hopes untold
Amidst despairs so stout

One who knows
The exact dose
To cure the pains of life

One who is there
With every thing to spare
For your worth and strive

In you who believes
And a trail he leaves
In your life forever

One who smiles
To light up the miles
Even in the darkest weather

Never does he forsake
And a difference he makes
In whatever you have been

On whose shoulder you cry
And words you rely
And confess all your sin

One who never bothers
His friend's ill manners
And accepts you as you are

Corrects your wrong
And makes you strong
At times which leave you scars

One whose touch
Soothes so much
While sharing all your sorrow

Walks hand in hand
As a true friend
Towards a better tomorrow

The Last Wish

[Created in 1 hr in the English Creative Writing Competition at the M.P. Birla Smarak Kosh, in 2001, this is one of my early attempts at short story. Though my style of writing has changed over the years, I have retained the language in which I had first written it.] Cimmerian Darkness all around No light shown for me I yearned for a stop somewhere But no signal shown to me Ebony black darkness surrounded me like a thick cloak, which my vision failed to penetrate. I never comprehended that the path would be so long, narrow and derelict. The asphyxiating environment nearly chocked me and I longed for an end to this uncanny silence. Now I wished I had not embarked upon this never-ending journey. I could endure no more and stopped. -Hello! We are going out to watch that latest movie in town. Want to come? -Oh! No. I am sorry. -Hey, why not? Everyone’s- I put down the receiver without waiting for her to finish. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- -Hi! This tinkle is only to remind you of my birthday bash next Saturday. -Please excuse me. I am very sorry but I am…I am, well, out of sorts. -You have a week’s time. You’ll certainly recover by then, won’t you? Being unable to find an answer I slammed down the receiver in utter despair. How could I tell him that I was at a complete loss. Life was playing a cruel joke on me. All my peers were having a gala time after the Board Examinations. But I confined myself to my own world, kept my friends at an arm’s length and shed tears of repentance. I tried to ignore the situation but those sinful moments haunted me day and night. Darkness seemed to have faded a little. A faint light showed my path ahead. My inner soul responded and cried out ‘Mother’! I spoke out aloud, ‘I am sure you would never abandon me. Please Mother, I can bear this no more. I had put my heart and soul in my studies to fulfill your last wish, - the wish which you had nurtured in your mind since my birth. You had always wanted me to be a topper. Aren’t all those trophies in music, dance and fine arts, occupying six shelves of the living room results of your ambition, which you implemented through me? Yes, I have always kept your word. I have been excellent in everything that I have done. Even when you wanted me to beat all the spectacled intellectuals in class, I stayed up late at night and woke up before the sun to achieve your goal. Yes, Mother, it was your ambition, not mine. I wanted life, but you refused to give it to me. You enjoyed telling every one around that I was a topper, but I felt disgusted in front of their stare mixed with bitter admiration. Your last wish was surely a death sentence for me. Didn’t you know that there would be thousands of toppers from schools all over the state in the Final Board Examinations? But still you wanted me to top the merit list! I thought I would rebel but your cancer-stricken face prevented me. You had pinned your last bit of faith in me and left. Mother, I know I have deceived you. I have committed a sin, which have shattered your trust. I desperately wanted to make your dream come true, but I could not gather enough confidence. I had all the world’s happiness when newspaper headlines flashed my name – but my conscience cried. My sufferings increased all the more and became too heavy to live with. Life had given me everything and I lost all of them. I have no complaint against you, Mother, as I know that your efforts in making me a topper was the only way to fight those who sighed at your girl child. The last thing I want to do is to cry in your arms. At the end of this road, I know that I will meet you. I can see the light, which will erase all blackness. Are you there to receive me with open arms? Please, Mother, grant me my last wish.

The Violence Within

We laugh we cry But never do we try To curb the violence within We strike to gain When they are in pain Our inner selves so full of sin Hardly we know What it takes to sow The seeds of labour and love We take the wrong way So keen to hold sway Is being honest so tough? We weep over the dead Knowing what is being said The only truth of all things Our hearts cry ‘foul’! In answer to our soul That we all are violent beings.

Towards the West

My free spirits refused to stay confined after the Class X Board Examinations ended and so after three days, we boarded the Gitanjali Express anticipating a long, refreshing tour of the West India. We stopped at Bhusaval and took a bus to Jalgaon, which was our stop for the night. Early next morning, we set out for Aurangabad, and on the way, stopped at the Buddhist rack-hewn Ajanta Caves. The isolated scrap of horseshoe shaped rocky hill rising over a ravine to a steep height of 250 feet made an ideal site for the monastic sanctuary, which dates back to the 1st and 2nd century B.C. The architectural and sculptural excellence in these caves is surpassed by addition of a third form of art – painting, which has given Ajanta its fame. Within the frameworks of spirituality, an entire pageant of contemporary life has been vividly depicted. Our guide also pointed at the famous ‘Ajanta type’ female figures with well-carved forms, elongated eyes, attractive mien and ample adornment. In the evening, we reached Aurangabad, a flourishing trade center in Maharashtra. We visited the state Textile Emporium to see the much-heard himroo and paithan handicrafts, which have typical ‘carpet of flowers’ design. But they cost the sky and we bought only a piece of stole, so that we could take back an example of the intricate design. Next morning we were off to visit the Ellora Caves, located 28 km away from the city. The excavations on a sloping hillside spread from north to south, revealing most beautifully, the point of contrast among the three religions, Buddhism, Jainism and Hinduism or more precisely, Brahmanism. While returning, we visited the Daulatabad Fort, a famous medieval landscape. Built by Raja Bhillamraj of Jadav dynasty in 1187 A.D., this old citadel is known for its brilliant fortifications, which made it almost inaccessible by enemies. Seeing the wide moat all around it, extremely smooth walls, heavy iron gates with elephant spikes and pitch-dark passages, we all agreed to what Travernier had said – “This fortress is one of the most powerful in my eyes”. Bibi-ka-Maqbara, built by Aurangzeb in memory of his wife Rabia-ud-Durrani, is a poor imitation of the grand Taj Mahal of Agra. Erected by Prince Azam Shah in 1678, it stands in the middle of a spacious and formally planned garden, with axial ponds, fountains, and water channels, defined by stone screens and lined with broad pathways. Our nest stop was Mahabaleswar, a hill station on the Western Ghats. After the sultry heat, here was our chance to cool off. One whole day was spent in visiting the famous Pratapgarh Fort of Shivaji. Legend has it that where the flag flies is where Shivaji killed Afzal Khan using the claws of a tiger. It is very well maintained by the Government and even today, a priest performs daily puja in the Temple of Goddess Bhabani. We shuddered when the guide informed us of the punishment point of the fort. The wrongdoer would be hurled down from the fort, located in Raigarh Jilla and his body would be found at Satara Jilla, some 900 feet below! Now was the time to move towards Goa for which I had been waiting right from the beginning of the tour. The thirteen-hour bus journey left us exhausted as we entered Panjim late in the evening. Next day, we were off to enjoy ourselves at the world famous beaches with lovely names as Mira Mar, Dona Paula, Anjuna, Kalangute and Kowa. The evening was thoroughly enjoyed as we cruised the Mandavi River in the luxury steamer ‘Santa Monica’, where the vibrant culture of Goa was presented before us through songs and dance items. St. Francis Cathedral was visited next morning where the body of St. Francis Xavier is still preserved. In the evening, we headed towards Mumbai by the Konkan Kanya Express, which took us through numerous tunnels in the Ghats and we entered Dadar at dawn. The Siddhi Vinayak Temple, Taraporawala Aquarium, Hanging Garden, Boot House and the Iskon Temple were visited that day. Next, we went to the famous Haji Ali Mosque and Gateway of India. From the Gateway, we took a steamer to the Elephanta Caves, which are famous for wonderful sculpture of Shiva-Parvati. Situated in the Gharapuri Island and dating back till 600 A.D., it houses the famous trinity – that of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva. A stroll down the Juhu beach and the Fashion Street completed our Mumbai sightseeing. Just as all good things end, our trip to the western part of the country also came to a halt after fifteen days. The trip gave us a glimpse of ancient art forms hidden inside caves, formidable fortresses describing history, picturesque hills, exquisite beaches and a bustling metropolis all at the same time. Now, when I pen down those days, I cannot but echo these lines of Derozio - Yes; there are in the backward past Soft hours to which we turn- Hours which, at distance, mildly shine, Shine on, but never burn.

The Broken Promise

This has been one of the few verse poems that I have created...Composed just after reading 'Great Expectations' when I was greatly moved by the character of Miss Havisham...You might find her traces here... The air was filled with a melodious tune And the dark walls showed flickering of many flames I entered the parlour, quietly, my heart beating fast! And there he sat, with his violin, waiting for me I looked into his eyes, which spoke of love eternal As I felt a shiver through my spines We had just exchanged vows till death do us part And I looked forward to our first night together The fire crackled noisily as I pushed in more woods Hiding my flushed face from him He held my hands to his lips Whispering sweet nothings into me Promises of forever love----which I yearned for so long Praises for my blue eyes and black hair, Soft voice and red lips----and then my heart ached. A sudden gush of cold wind intruded into my thoughts I shivered as I turned -- no one’s there I stood alone in the dark room in eerie silence I strained my tired ears--- no tune was heard I looked beyond the Cimmerian darkness The mirror in front revealed an old maid Grey hair, lined face, trembling lips and a desperate look I shut my eyes in terror---memories Of the man shook me from inside The man who promised but never kept it!

The Mirage

If you have ever experienced one-sided love, then may be you will agree with this one...

If my one wish would be granted now
I would ask for your love
Indulging in such a frenzied dream
Has always been so tough!
My life revolves around the image
Of you holding my hand
And smiling into my eyes
Amidst a scenery grand
How I lived for the moment when
I would be asked, ‘ Do you?’
And felt a wild, maddening shiver
That went all through
My body as I gave my best smile to the mirror-
And blushed, closed my eyes, trying-
Not to imagine the terror,
Of being foolish that might
Make you change your mind
Thus, breaking the carefully spun spell
Leaving a frustrated me to find
Solace in drops of tears
As the obvious truth sank in me
‘That my heart loved him with
So much vigour, but never did he.’

The Best Valentine

The best valentine
You can ever get,
Whose love is for ever
And who will never forget
How you changed her life
By your mere presence,
Who will shower you with love
And also teach its essence,
Who will be there with you
Whether you frown or smile
Who will always support you
And travel that extra mile,
Are you wondering where to
Find her, at the end?
Do not look further
I am that friend!

For some one like me, who is yet to fall in love, 14th February has remained just another day...This year, I thought that I should acknowledge the enormous support and love I have received from my friends...It's they whom I call my best valentines!!!

Writers Block, the NUJS monthly Newsletter was kind enough to carry this verse in their February issue.

The colours of rangoli

This was the rangoli that was made infront of the idol of Saraswati on 2nd February 2006. Though lots of people were involved in giving it the final shape, I would love to call it one of my creations as I created the basic layout in wee hours of the day of Saraswati Puja. And when we ran out of colours, I decided to fill it up with shreds of marigold(!) and completed the look by drawing the swastika.

To Goa With Love

Goa has left an indelible mark in my mind...not just by its exotic beauty with which it beckons every tourist, as I experienced and saw what others fail to...

As I half-lay on my couch on a lazy afternoon
Browsing through the captured moments of Goa, memories
Of my trip to the exotic land came alive before my eyes
Those sunny days, white sands and the blue-green sea
And the never-ending stretches with lovely names
Mira Mar, Dona Paula, Anjuna, Calangute and Bagha
Each with her own distinct and lovely look
All ready to entice me
I spent days and nights
Being seduced by them
And watched through the looking glass
Those bare, white torsos lying in the sun
In an attempt to turn brown
Shops selling memorabilia priced ten times higher
Merrily doing business among tourists
I looked beyond to discover more wonder
Those small huts lining the beach whose
Men go out into the sea everyday
Where naked children play around
Without having their share of basics
But can enjoy endlessly what I can only after
Two days of journey from the other part of the country
Am I jealous of them?
The answer evades me as I close the album
My lazy afternoons dedicated to Goa with love.

Shantiniketan Revisited

The Abode of Peace – you beckon us
Every now and then
When life becomes mundane
We want to leave behind all fuss
And visit you again

"Guys, we are late! It’s already 2 and the train, to the best of my knowledge, is at 2:50 pm!” I said in utter exasperation as the boys showed no sign of setting off. Instead, they scorned at me saying that it will hardly take time to reach Sealdah. But during our taxi ride to the station, when we got stuck in the traffic for endless number of times, even they suspected that we would not be able to catch the train.
Date: 2nd November, 2005 Place: NUJS Context: Shantiniketan trip by 17 students of 2nd year (2004-09 Batch)

It took a lot of planning throughout the Monsoon semester of the year and phone calls to each other during the vacation to ultimately embark on our journey to Shantiniketan. Of course, the boys were rights and we reached Sealdah just in time to catch the train, but not without some nail-biting moments on the way. Once we were seated comfortably in the local train, all of us engaged ourselves for the next 3 hours. Though most of us chatted continuously throughout the journey, yours truly took card lessons from Semanti and Kinjal for the first time, played Call Bridge with them and also won the first game! The fact that I kept on losing for the rest of the games is a different story altogether as against seasoned players like Abira and Malabika, hardly anybody can hope otherwise. As we neared Shantiniketan, we could not help but notice the eerie darkness outside and wonder how it would be like at Abhiroop’s place where we are putting up.

Our classmate and host, Abhiroop was there at the station to receive us with his trademark broad smile. The auto ride to his place really scared us as it took us through vast meadows covered in ebony blackness with a few houses here and there. Nevertheless, our lodging for the next two days turned out to be a majestic three-storied bungalow, which received our whole-hearted admiration in the form of Oohs!, Aahs! And Wows! in chorus.
After we, girls have captured the top two floors, thereby restricting the boys in one bedroom and the living room in the ground floor, it was time for relaxation and chalking out sightseeing plans for the next day. The evening saw us in a fierce battle of Dumb Charade and Chinese Whisper. We had a gala time punishing the ones in the latter game, where Sayak and Rohit were made to dance to the tunes of Kajra Re amidst our loud cheers. Food was got through home delivery and the dinner brought an end to the first day at Shantiniketan.

As planned, we set out for a morning stroll in the nearby reserve forest (of course, it was devoid of any wild animals!) at 7 am, leaving behind sleepyheads like Abira, Ankit and Sarbajeet. It was a truly enjoyable walk in the chill of the early morning and greenery of the forest where we blindly followed our guide Abhiroop. The later part of the morning saw us all dressed for a long day outing. Just outside the closed gates of the Viswabharati Museum, it dawned on us that it was a holiday on the occasion of Bhai-Phonta and so we had to be content with only a visit inside the University.
We had decided to have lunch outside and Abhiroop had promised a good restaurant, only 20 minutes of walking distance away. But we reached it only after walking for almost 45 minutes in scorching sun! But that was not the end of my woes. I was served my mixed chowmein when the rest were licking off their plates, literally and figuratively! I would have starved to death if not for generous share of food from Kinjal and Abhiroop.

Post-lunch, there was a fierce debate about plans for the rest of the evening. We all set off for the banks of the river Kopai by autoricksaw, who totally robbed us by extracting exorbitant fare. After lots of photo sessions there, some of us headed back home, Sayak and Abhiroop went to get return tickets, while the more enthusiasts like Annie, Sanjana,Ripzong, Aparajita and Shezin decided to go on a shopping spree. They loaded their bags with small memorabilia from the roadside shops and other items like jholas.
Back home, we all settled down to a cozy and enjoyable evening of a game of cards. Ayan refused to bluff at all, while Abira and Ankit kept on bluffing only!

Post-dinner we decided to spend our last night at Shantiniketan in the most memorable way – by indulging in a ‘ghost story session’. Starting with the clichéd quote “This is a true account”, everyone added to the session his/her version of the most varied ghost stories ever heard anywhere together. When we had finally called it a day at 1:30 am and went off to our respective rooms, some of the girls (and I am sure some guys too) were very scared. Tell me who would not be, after such an adda where personal (!) experiences and stories of scary movies like The Blair Witch Project interspersed with frightening instances from NUJS itself were discussed!

The next morning saw us in a frenzied packing mood as we had the train at 1 pm. With wonderful memories at tow, we set off, to arrive and once again, enter our everyday routine at NUJS. It has been a unique trip in ways more than one. Be it for Semanti giving a treat of gulab jamuns to all of us, on the occasion of her birthday which incidentally fell on 2nd November, or Aniruddh’s passes at Ankit, or playing ‘memory game’ during the train journey, or Srinivas offering to take most of the snaps in my camera so that I could feature in them, the whole trip is etched in our minds. I wanted to revisit it by penning an account of it and hope that the rest of the group will relive the moments when they read it.