Connect with your inner self, feed your soul and eat more bananas. Listen to the latest episode of my humble podcast. Links to the topics of discussion, including videos are provided in the podcast description. To access it, click the (-) icon and go to the relevant podcast episode. Enjoy.
Kolkata has been good to me. Although it has made me loose faith in the maintenance of personal hygiene, it has taught me valuable life lessons. One of the habits that I’ve picked up is that I now can’t finish a meal without eating something sweet at the end of it. Like, my hand will start to shiver if I don’t get a treat, rich in protein and diabetes..
I went to an Archiological Museum. Did I spell that right? Archeology-cal? Archaeoloji. Ar…Ar… Anglican. Anyway… this museum had some unusual stuff in it. I reached the museum quite late. It was about to close. So, a security guard was assigned to guide/nag me through the entire museum. As you all know, I take my museum visits very seriously. So I explicitly stated that the guard maintain a distance of exactly three metres away from me at all times. Why ‘three’ you ask? Well, that’s none of your business. As soon as the receptionist understood that I had difficulty speaking Bengali, she began to shoot questions in English. “Are you South Indian? Where do you stay here? What did you have for dinner yesterday? What’s your blood type?”. You know…the usual stuff. I mean, she was very attractive. That’s probably why I panicked. After a short, uncomfortable conversation, I began the tour with my personal bodyguard.
There were extremely old paintings and pottery(7-14 century). Just as I was about to finish viewing the ground floor, motherfucker(guard) started to blow a damn whistle(probably to ask me to leave). Another guard heard this whistle and started to blow his own whistle. Within a few seconds, the whole fucking museum was whistling. I could see birds fly away from the roof. Motherfuckers were disturbing the wildlife.
As soon I got to the first floor, I knew it was a different scene. You see, there were these sculptures made of metal, kept in glass housings. They were sculpted in the 9th century. I hadn’t seen anything like it before. Figures sculpted with unimaginable level of detail and yet so tiny and realistic. That was not the impressive part. The figures were not of people or animals, rather it looked like something that was taken straight out of a Stephen King movie. There was a figure with an elephant’s head and a slim guy’s body(It had nothing to do with religion). It was holding a walking stick. It had a hunchback. It looked like it was dying. Then there were snakes, dragons and warriors that looked like trees, stuff that I have never seen or could have imagined. I was awestruck.
How could somebody think of that? How wild does ones imagination have to be to make something like that? Where did he get the idea from? Did an alien put it in his mind? Did he dream of it in his sleep? Did his day-to-day life affect the design of the sculpture in any way? Did his family approve of him spending so much time making figures that made no sense to common people? What was going on in his mind when he made it? How was he able to put an ‘idea’ into a sculpture? Does the sculpture mean something? So many questions.
I don’t have any pictures of the metal wonders because pictures were prohibited inside the museum. And I can respect that. All I have is a picture of a tree, from the museum’s garden.
The metal wonders will always live inside my head. I do not need pictures of them.
On an unrelated note, I got a keyboard. Today is Day 4 with new keyboard.
Side note: I do not know how to play the keyboard.
I went to a writers-meet yesterday. I don’t know if ‘writer’s meet’ is the right word. It might be something else. By went, I mean I attended a solid two hours of a two-day event. It was called People’s literary festival 2018. It was about going against conventional ‘literary festivals’ that they say are a sham. If my younger-self saw me attending this event, he would probably reassess his situation and change whatever the fuck he was doing with his life. But you know, life is a collection of experiences and we learn from each of them. I had no intention of going to this event. But I did go and by the end of it, it felt pretty good(even though I weirded out a couple of people). I went because a friend invited me. Why else would I go? I don’t intrude into uninvited events(would be hell of a lot fun though, especially if I wiggle my way into ending up on stage, speaking to the audience about Robert Zemeckis movies. Note to self: add idea to bucket list). The main reasons why I decided to go are:
- I had nothing to do that weekend
- I was feeling lonely and depressed
So I figured the best way to fight the depression was to surround myself with nerds.
Now, a little bit about myself:
I don’t read
I don’t write
I have nothing to do with literature
I am a big fan of learning and idea-exchange
I like to meet new people. Wait… that’s a stretch. Lets just say I like to meet people who think differently. Even if their beliefs or ideas go completely against mine. I like to hear the same story told from different perspectives. I like to hear opinions on things. So when the panel started to speak on censorship in their work and daily lives, I was intrigued to hear different views. Some of them spoke about how artists receive death threats on a regular basis to a point where it doesn’t seem to matter anymore. It has become the new normal. I think that’s fucked up.
I noticed someone sitting in the second row(probably the event organizer) getting a little anxious when one of the panelists wouldn’t stop speaking. I saw her waving to someone on stage but they couldn’t understand what she was saying. So I helped out. I raised my arms, pointed to my watch and showed hand gestures that meant,” zip it lady. Wrap it up”.
On an unrelated note, Is there an unwritten law that says, as you go higher up in intellect, the girls need to cut their hair short and guys need to grow long hair? Don’t get me wrong. Me like short haired girls too(especially after attending this event). Who gives a shit about length of hair anyway.
Had to go see the eye doctor today because I sprayed lead in my eye. Life is a mystery, guys. It just keeps getting stranger and stranger. Incase you didn’t know, I am a total social recluse who is working on improving myself. So every opportunity I get to socialise, I force myself to go for it. So I did the most logical thing and hit on two junior doctors at the hospital. Lets just say I got ‘special’ attention because of that. The doctor was really nice. After staring into my soul for a few minutes, she concluded that I had an infection.
Now that I have disgraced myself, lets move on to the fun part of the story, the part where I make friends. After seeing the doctor I decided to explore that part of the city(this whole incident took place at Salt Lake, Kolkata). Now, I don’t often make friends during my travels because, you know, people are terrifying. But this time, I met some jovial characters that I couldn’t resist making friends with. They were so chill that they didn’t mind me taking pictures of them. In fact, they were happy to hear that I would be writing about them on my blog. Without further ado, here they are.
The “whoa there slow down” lion is the golden guardian of the roads. He is a funny guy who shouts funny things like, “If you are in a hurry, drive slower”, “your children would rather see you come home late than see you arrive in a casket”, “sex can wait, spinal cord surgeries cannot”. He was sad to say that out of all the defaulters, Lions club members were the worst. We took a selfie too but I can’t show that here due to legal reasons. Onto the next gang, the merry Grasshoppers. The Grasshoppers are a funk/jazz fusion band. They were on tour. It surprised me to see that they didn’t have a drummer. No offence, they sounded great without one. They explained how the drummer had problems with drug abuse. They said he was particularly fond of something called “grass”, which was pretty ironic because all of them seemed to be made out of … you know… grass.
I need help.
There’s nothing more depressing than watching a movie theater close down. Its like watching art die. Now, as to reasons why such places shut shop, there’s obviously no mystery. In most cases, it is the failure to adapt/grow or mismanagement. Maybe theaters have comfort zones too!
Apparently, this one right here was a big deal back in the day. It’s got some pretty interesting history with Metro Goldwyn Mayer. When I first saw this beauty today, my first reaction was to go touch the walls. You see, my ex-girlfriend claimed she had the ability to ‘feel’ places. I know this sounds fucked up. Let’s just say she had a broad definition for ‘feel’ in this case. In order to do this, she would switch over to X-men mode and literally go hug the walls. My immediate reaction to this was, “uh oh… substance abuse”.
So I tried touching the walls,
I tried touching the ground
Maybe it’s a heightened sense thing or synesthesia. You know, like Looney Tunes.
Write better posts
Travel to Kolkata. Go to the ‘New Embassy’ hotel at Elgin. Do not be afraid of the eerie atmosphere or the lack of electronic payment options or the motionless manager. Order dry garlic pork. Eat it. Enjoy it. Bathe in it. When the waiter comes over with the bill, start chanting the ‘whispers of the lost arts’
“I wish Christopher Nolan made one more Batman movie”
“I wish Christopher Nolan made one more Batman movie”
“I wish Christopher Nolan made one more Batman movie”
A one-eyed pony will meet you in the restroom. Explain to it your views on passive euthanasia. Depending on your views, the pony will gift you ‘Kalanick’s 10100’ card which you can use to buy wordpress premium. Publish a post titled ‘Planned obsolescence’ and watch the likes soar.
No, I didn’t mess up the post’s title.
Valent- Having one or more valences
Valence-The combining capacity of an atom, radical or functional group determined by the number of electrons that it will lose, gain, or share when it combines with other atoms etc.
Having been dumped well in advance before valentines day, I am one of those lucky people who will be spending the day indoors. Wait a minute…that’s no different from any other day. Anyway… it is the day couples have been waiting for. It is the day for gifts, emotions and several other things that I’m devoid of. For the rest of us, it is the day for awkwardness, packed restaurants, more awkwardness and Black Panther. Woohoo! Thank you Marvel.
Quick change of topic to escape the depression(cos that’s how I roll now)
Welcome to Jurassic Pa… I mean my weekend adventure to the book fair. You know that feeling you get when you have a lazy Sunday morning at your hands and a sudden urge to sit down and read a really good book comes up? I never get that. I would instead… do anything but that. So why the hell would someone like me go to a book fair you ask? Well first of all, fuck you. Books are for everyone. Secondly, fuck you again. I hate you for asking that. Plus, who could resist going to a book fair when they welcome you in French?
And serve you great food
Kids, this is what adult depression looks like. The letters go up and down. Isn’t it fun?
There’s no better way to describe it. It’s a Disneyland just for the nerds. Instead of waterslides, they have book signings. Instead of rides they have bookstalls. Even though I felt the life slowly drain away from my body, it was nice to see the nerds loose their shit at seeing authors appear like astronauts who just landed from space.
I grew up in one of those households where there was a library ‘inside’ the house. Can you believe that shit? What a waste of space. And my sister, the biggest nerd of all, was like the librarian who also guarded the gates. The moment I enter the room, she would up the security. Mother would step in and offer a hand at pushing me out. So, clearly this goes back to my childhood.
PS: I have nothing against books or nerds. I am a nerd myself but I still like to make fun of them.