food

What’s the point of a vacation?

Some time ago, my psychologist suggested that I go visit some place nice, possibly with friends. Winter was just beginning to recede. It was a nice time, when the weather was not too cold or too shitty. We took a train from Sealdah. Papa likes old buildings, and this trip was filled with them. Old houses, mansions, places of worship, and trees. The place- Bansberia

Man! I could sit underneath a tree for hours. That’s a stretch. Maybe 20 minutes.

I could sit there, and just loose myself in emptiness. Natural, peaceful emptiness. You see the birds fly away, and you start to think, what the hell have you been doing for the last six years of your life. Was Michael Jackson really a pedophile? Will they reboot Johnny Quest?

Then we saw some buildings. Some of them, we couldn’t get into. Some of them let us see just the outside. Some of them, we wouldn’t dare try to enter because… well see for yourself

It’s quite certain that if you enter a place like this, you’ll probably end up leaving with a story to tell, just might not be a PG-13 one. The gates were closed, and there was a scary “no trespassing” sign on the gate. Plus the locals gave us weird looks. Not scary enough for ya? Take a look after I add a filter.

As tempting as it was, we left it.

By the end of the trip, I came to the realization that I need more of this in my life. I don’t feel like my mind has been cleared, but I feel like things are settling down. I am reminded that there’s more to life than money and computers. Oh and we ate this thing, I don’t know what else to call it but an upgraded roti. Just magical.

Noodle me this

Today is a beautiful Saturday. Truly beautiful. Not for me, but for the rest of the world. Maybe just a little for me. I set out on a journey yesterday, after reading an article about an authentic Chinese restaurant somewhere in Tangra, and because of that, the world decided to shit on me by making it that one special day when it rains in February. I don’t know how this shit happens to me. Although I did get lucky in finding a direct bus that goes to the place. The trip took about an hour. A guy came sat next to me, which, by the way, struck me as a little odd because 90% of the bus was empty and ma man decided to make me lift my bag so that he can sit next to me, like I’m a lucky charm or something. Now, am I the only one who’s felt this? People have this insatiable need to come seat near me even when the rest of the seats are empty. Not the girls, just guys, which makes it worse. It’s like, in their mind they go “lets all huddle together and keep each other warm”. What in the actual fuck is wrong with these people? Do I exude safety? Fuck no. I’m the first person to ditch your ass if the bus ever gets taken over by terrorists. I am a Ronin bro(don’t judge me).

Right from the get-go you knew he’s one of those types that has absolutely no respect for other human beings. He comes in, earphones blazin, like what even is the point now? You’re using a pair of earphones as a boombox right now. Like, I can almost hear the thoughts in your head. Then he asks me “does this bus go to VIT?”. No “excuse me”, no “do you happen to know”, no “may I fondle your balls?”, no nothing. Straight up asks what he wants, like commando style. I’m sure some women find that attractive but not papa. I was like, isn’t that in Vellore?, which if you don’t know, I live in North East India, and Vellore is down south, like thousands of kilometres away. Then it starts to rain. He, starts to complain TO ME about the rain. I failed to mention that I was listening to music this whole time. So I was just staring at the nonsensical bullshit that was coming out of his mouth. The famous saying “in through one out through the other”, didn’t apply here cos papa was listening to incredible drums in Undertow, by Chroma Key.

As usual, I missed the stop, and I began walking back to the spot. On the way, I pass by a building that looks like it has got gigantism. The ITC ROYAL BENGAL. Here, let me show you a picture:

It’s beautiful. There’s lights everywhere. Like, I can smell the rich people inside. It’s weird because, just down the street, it’s pure poverty. I saw a guy cleaning the inside of his bucket with water from a puddle. There’s puddles everywhere, and since they’re building another gigantic structure right behind this, there’s construction and gooey mud for miles. Yet I power through, because I had read about the great Shingara Chow, served at Ah Leung. Read the article:

https://www.telegraphindia.com/my-kolkata/lifestyle/feasting-on-the-famous-pork-shingara-chow-at-tangras-ah-yung-or-ah-leung/cid/1849390

It’s an expedition to get to this place. Lot of dark alleyways, big street dogs, friendly people. A healthy 40% on the rapometer, which is a device I use to measure my chances of getting raped. Yes, it’s got the BIS, ISO, all them ratings. Finally, after a barrage of twists and turns, I get to the spot, and it’s closed. But the owner was very kind to come outside and explain the situation. In fact he started getting a little too close. Papa’s body has a knee jerk reaction to people not wearing masks. It is a GTFA pose (get the fuck away). For the GTFA, I stretch out both my arms in a warm, welcoming manner, except my palms are facing forward, and I bend my knees a little, as if to do a squat. This sends a clear message to the maskless one, that daddy’s not playin around. After a friendly socially-distanced banter, I went to another restaurant called Kaafu Lok, and I had the best tasting rice noodles I’ve ever had. So kids, life is full of magic. You just have to know, which restaurant to get it from.

Bring back the sugar

There’s now a black can of Pepsi with the picture of a hand showing the devil horns on it. It’s name, Pepsi Black. This is considered to be progress in 2022. The government decided to ‘save’ its people from sugar water. Fuck this. If there’s no sugar, what’s the point? What’s the point, healthy people? It tastes like black water, so kudos to whoever came up with the name. Give them a raise. What’s the big agenda here? Encourage people to eat healthier? The good Fat people will get their hands on sugary stuff no matter what. So what’s the point in pushing people like me, who drinks a coke once every few months, to drink a can of black water? Try ordering a KFC meal online. Those bitches give you the black water. It’s not an option now. Fuck KFC. Fuck the guy with the mustache. I want regular Pepsi with more sugar. Now that’s progress. Let society shift to a pro-choice for food. Let the fat people choose. Lets cut some weight. I know I know. Sounds so harsh. Well then, don’t mess with my KFC order.

Street sweets

I read somewhere that Omicron will peak mid February. My LIFE hasn’t peaked yet. And yet, a virus has somehow managed to peak twice in a span of two years. In the words of the great Theo Von, ‘my life has been a constant struggle, wrestling with every moment just to feel ok’. All of this spiraled down during the past few weeks, and I finally decided to reach out for help. So I talked to a local therapist, and I kid you not, I felt like she needs therapy. I felt like, if I got to spend a few hours with her every week, I could give her some life-advice, and I’ll do it for free.

Three important things happened in the past month

The legal age of marriage for women was raised from `18 to 21

The stock market saw a dip

And I ate the most delicious Chandrakala the world has to offer. It was from a sweet shop, on the way back from work. Every other sweet shop who claims to know how to make Chandrakala, should get training form this grand maestro. His face looked grumpy as hell, but I did not care, as my focus was on the round delight. He frowned when I gave him a 50 Rupee note. The Chandrakala was 10 Rs. It was oozing with sweet juices. Out-of-the-world ingredients. If I could summarize the taste, I would describe it as pure magic. Not a lot of ghee, nor liquid stuff. Just the right amount. The quality of the sweet made up for the grumpiness. He snatched the eco-friendy plate, as soon as I picked up the Chandrakala. I think I would have been choked if I stayed there any longer. The word Chandrakala has been used 5 times in this post. Was that planned? Absolutely Chandrakala not.

When you hit 30, you gotta start watching what you eat man. Now, I know I sound like a fitness blog right now but it’s the truth. Either that or you have to work out out like crazy. Or you need to have, what I like to call a Ferrari lifestyle, which is just a another name for an active lifestyle. You shove in whatever you want and then burn it to smithereens.

The quarantine is taking its toll on me. I keep feeling for tremors, because in my head, the Earth is going,”where did all the humans go? Did that shit actually kill these motherfuckers? Bruh! I think it’s time to restart the tectonic plate movement, and this time it’s going to be all islands”. 

Emotional spices

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I ate the green chilli that came with the biryani. It’s true what they say about chilli. I feel like a real man now. My voice has deepened, eyes are watering, beard’s growing faster. It’s either this or a stroke. Speaking of eyes watering, I watched Ellen Degeneres cry on Netflix yesterday. It was nice.