The Bong Connection

Bong Tip 137: Babu shonaaa!!...baayere thanda ache!..Bina Monkey tupi berobena kintu!..(troll face)

It is pretty late at night and here I am, poring over a computer screen, my brain feeling the effects of an afternoon siesta gone wrong, or long shall we say. Going through the funnier parts of a 20 year Bong upbringing and quietly chuckling to myself has so far seemed to be a much better alternative to sleeplessly tossing and turning in bed. And as usually happens at night, I find myself reflecting on something I’ve never attached any importance to, let alone give any serious thought; my bong connection

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Born in the heart of Bengal but raised in the diametrically opposite part of the country, in faraway Gujarat, my life has certainly been dichotomous to say the least. Raised in a pretty standard Bong home, learning reading and writing Bengali even though it wasn’t a part of the school curriculum, you’d think there was nothing in me that wouldn’t be like the quintessential Bong. And maybe I was, for all I know.

But over time, as my peer influence started having a greater impact on me and my friend circle started comprising of kids other than those whose houses I visited with mom and dad, I started seeing other cultures, their habits, their way of life, and started relating to them. Even then, I was still as much a bong as ever before, still relishing ever morsel of my favorite rice and fish. But something more essential in me had started changing, something that somehow seemed to be much more deeply ingrained in the other Bongs I knew.

Bongs, they say are immensely proud of their history and culture. They can go on about their achievements for hours at an end. Ouch! Did I just say they?  But then I don’t really feel comfortable using the first person pronouns here, having never done the same myself. I personally always felt more proud of Tagore being the first Indian to win the Nobel Prize than Tagore, the Bengali being the first Indian to win the Nobel Prize; always related more to Amartya Sen the economist than Amartya Sen the Bengali.

My mom says I’m weird; my friends say I’m more a Gujarati than a Bong; and I say, how different is being a Bong from being a Gujarati really? Why is it so bad if I relate more to my Indian identity than my Bengali one? Yeah I know; sounds extremely pretentious. But true nonetheless. I truly believe that a time will come when national identity shall far supersede regional identity, when a Gujarati living in Gujarat is no different than a Bong living there, when values are not a reflection of where you were brought up, but how you were brought up.

But then what do I know; I’m plain weird.

F.R.I.E.N.D.S- A Decade of Giving, Receiving, Having and Sharing!

“Hey Ross, here’s a science question.  If homosapiens are really ‘homo’, is that why they’re extinct?

“Joey, homosapiens are people.”

“Hey, I’m not judging!”

Its past 2 am at night, and I just finished watching the last episode of friends; again, for the umpteenth time. And once again I find myself experiencing the very same mix of sadness and joy that I did the first time I finished friends; a feeling which one would rarely ever associate with finishing a television series. It is more than a feeling of accomplishment, much much more than that actually. It is an indescribable feeling to be honest.

And I sit up to think, what is it about this TV show which catapulted it to such heights? It is after all a story involving 6 friends, 6 routine people with routine lives and stories, albeit with hitherto unparalleled humor. But then, humor alone is not what made friends what it is. It is not for humor alone that year after year, day after day many more people like sat up nights to watch this story unfold, over and over and over again!

And tonight finally, I guess I know the answer. Friends reminds people of all that is good in life. It reminds them that life needn’t be complicated at all; that there is joy and happiness in the small things. The small things, but with the correct people, that is what makes life worth living; what makes 10 years of drinking coffee in central perk pass by in the wink of an eye. Essentially it is all that every human wants from life; happiness, just that it takes them an eternity to realize the fact. And happiness isn’t that tough to have. Having the right people in your life, doing the small things right, facing everything with a smile, that’s all there really is to life.

If you think about it, each of you will realize that the story of friends wasn’t really that removed from reality. Each of you will actually have these characters in your life; a Joey who never fails to make you laugh with his nonsensical thoughts; a socially awkward chandler who makes jokes when he’s uncomfortable; a phoebe who’s straightforward to the point of being uncomfortably blunt; a Monica who’s a freak in more ways than one and yet somehow extremely likeable; and a Ross and Rachel who’s names you somehow always end up taking together.

There’s a small part within all of us which never wants to give up being a child, which relishes the childlike friendships and fights, and the freedom to do what the heart desires. I guess it is to that part that friends appeals. It is that part of us which is contented and happy, just as long as there’s someone to hold our hand and say,

“I’ll be there for you, when the rain starts to fall. I’ll be there for you, like I’ve been there before. I’ll be there for you, coz your there for me too!”

Boulevard of Broken Dreams

He found himself climbing the stairs to the terrace. Cries of other people calling out to him to join the revelry fell on deaf ears. He was in an entirely different place now; where nothing and no one could reach him. The rooftop was a relief. It was quiet here. He knew what he had to do. It was the only way. He didn’t know how he knew. Jerry had never been much of a believer in God but now he had a strange feeling that God was the pied piper who was making him do this. Well he was thankful to God then. He felt the chilly wind blowing against his face, and the tears running down his cheeks. He looked around, saw the shimmering lights of the buildings around him, tried to take it all in one last time. And then, and then Jerry jumped. And it was all over.

8:00 am, 17^th September, 2009- Jerry wasn’t a morning person. No, that he was not. But today was different. Today was his 25^th birthday and today; today Jerry would finally have what he wanted most in life. Later today he was going to pass out from the Harvard Business School. And that was what his life had been all about since he could remember. Attribute it to obsessive parents or his own obsessive nature; this is all what his life had ever been about. So it was understandable why today was so special for him. So, even his groggy sleep filled head was busy making plans for the day ahead. Picking up his parents from the airport, introducing them to Laila, renting his graduation robes, and on and on and on.

10:00 am, 17^th September, 2009- Jerry hated it when things didn’t work to plan. He’d been waiting at the airport for half an hour now and he was irritated, something that happened way too often for anyone’s liking; he remembered Laila saying. Deep breath in, deep breath out; he kept telling himself.

4:00 pm, 17^th September, 2009- Jerry arrived at the venue out of breath and just in time for the graduation to start. Although he was making a desperate effort to maintain a calm exterior, it was very obvious something was wrong. Especially conspicuous was the fact that only one of his three guests was accompanying him. But he kept repeating to himself again and again, ‘nothing can go wrong today! Nothing can go wrong today!’ Little did he realise that things were just about to get a whole lot worse.

12:00 noon, 17^th September, 2009- Three different delay announcements and two totally unrelated pit stops later his parents’ plane from Illinois had finally landed, albeit two hours late.  Had Jerry not been so lost in his own world, he would have noticed a chilling difference in his father as his parents came through the gates. A difference any observant person would instantly have attributed to multiple chemotherapy sessions. Gosh! I hope this is the only setback I have today. He perfunctorily shook hands with his father and hugged his mom half heartedly as he started dragging them towards his car even before they’d gotten their first greetings out of their mouths.

12:15 pm, 17^th September, 2009- Jeremy and Lily sat with downcast expressions at the back of Jerry’s dilapidated sedan as he drove towards Laila’s house. Other than telling them that he wanted them to meet his girlfriend (about whom he was serious so they’d better like her) they hadn’t gotten one single word out of him. “Jerry, your dad and I have been thinking...” began Lily but was cut off mid-sentence by her son; “not now mom. Just meet Laila and then we’ll talk later.” Despite the rebuff Jeremy made a renewed effort: “But son, what we have to talk to you about is important...” “NOTHING! NOTHING IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN MY GRADUATION TODAY” bellowed Jerry.

1:00 pm, 17^th September, 2009- He was still driving towards Laila’s house. The only difference was that the backseat of his car was empty now. An altercation, in which he was the one doing all the shouting with his mother trying to get a word or two in between and his father being completely silent resulted in a trip back to the airport and his parents returning  to Illinois. I don’t give a fuck! I gave my everything to get here. Nothing’s going to spoil my special day now.

1:15 pm, 17^th September, 2009- “Hey! Where are your parents?” exclaimed Laila as she saw a seething and alone Jerry standing on her porch. “They don’t give a shit about me! They just came here to show me that they care for me. As if I can’t see through their shallowness” said Jerry with sarcasm dripping from every word. Laila tried her best to calm Jerry down although to be honest she herself couldn’t find any fault with his parents’ behaviour. For now it was more important to get his anger in control and she knew exactly what had to be done.

2:00 pm, 17^th September, 2009- It had worked like a charm.  The tried and tested mixture of 2 portions vodka with 5 portions beer and a hint of rum was the magic motion which Jerry needed to get himself back into order. The only side effect was that Jerry tended to blabber quite a bit when under the influence of alcohol.

4:15pm, 17^th September, 2009- DONOVAN LANDON! DUNIVANT TODD! Three to go now; two to go; one; ERIKSEN JERRY! This was it; his big moment; the moment when he could finally let go of every single burden from the past. He felt Laila give him a small push from behind, felt himself walk towards the stage in a daze, partly due to the alcohol and partly because he just couldn’t contain his excitement. “Congratulations! Young man.” He heard the guy in the blue tie say. Or was it the guy beside him in the red tie? Anyways it hardly mattered. This was about him. And he just couldn’t keep it in any longer. The alcohol, his already excited state of mind and no Laila on stage to hold him back; and he shouted out,  “Yes! I did it. Look all you suckers! Look! I made it. You didn’t...” he continued shouting in the same vein until one of the on stage co-ordinators had the good sense to stop him.”Mr. Eriksen! Are you drunk?” asked one of the wizened old guys with incredulity. Jerry couldn’t really say anything in his defence. It was all out in the open. He was quickly escorted off stage, but the scene was far from over. It had just shifted to the director’s office now.

4:30 pm, 17^th September, 2009- “Drunk during convocation! Never before in the illustrious history of this great institution has something so dishonourable happened. And that too in full public view? Preposterous...” the director blustered on and on at Jerry. Most of the stuff went over his head. The only fact which registered in his brain was “I screwed it up!” But the director’s next words definitely got him out of his reverie; “Suspended! For one semester......” He didn’t even hear the next part of his ‘sentence’, so shocked was he. The future he had carefully sculpted for himself had just disintegrated right in front of him.

5:00 pm, 17^th September, 2009- “Get lost you bitch! You got me drunk. You’re the one who spoiled my entire life. Why did you do this to me? Why? Just go now. Go! Go! Go!” And Laila went; and never came back.

 6:00 pm 17^th September, 2009- Pitiably alone and drunk, Jerry was walking along one of the numerous boulevards in the campus; the campus he’d thought he’d be bidding adieu to today. To say he was depressed would be a huge understatement; it was almost as if he’d lost all purpose in life.

7:00 pm, 17^th September, 2009- All of a sudden Jerry’s phone sprang to life. It took him a while to realise what was going on around him given his inebriated state. “Watsit?” he rasped without even looking at the number. A cold voice which pierced him though to his core answered back, “your father is dead. He had been suffering from cancer for the last one year and that’s what he wanted to tell you today. And yeah, by the way, don’t bother turning up for the funeral.”

7:01 pm, 17^th September, 2009- Guilt. Heart wrenching guilt tore through Jerry. His father had come down to say goodbye to him one last time, and he’d just blown it. He now knew what it was to be the captain of a ship who had killed an albatross. And the worst part was, he now had no one to console him. Laila, the only person who’d always stood by him, who’d always been there was now gone.

“Dream until you dreams come true...” Jerry could clearly remember his dad’s voice as he pushed him on their porch swing. Well, he did dream. The only factor he didn’t consider was that there are some things and people who matter more than your dreams. Because when your dreams break, these are the people you fall back on. Jerry didn’t have anyone. He was alone.

He found himself climbing the stairs to the terrace. Cries of other people calling out to him to join to revelry fell on deaf ears. He was in an entirely different place now; where nothing and no one could reach him. The rooftop was a relief. It was quiet here. He knew what he had to do. It was the only way. He didn’t know how he knew. Jerry had never been much of a believer in God but now he had a strange feeling that God was the pied piper who was making him do this. Well he was thankful to God then. He felt the chilly wind blowing against his face, and the tears running down his cheeks. He looked around, saw the shimmering lights of the buildings around him, tried to take it all in one last time. And then, Jerry jumped. And it was all over.

OF MISSED TESTS AND BARBECUED CHICKEN......

" And we start all over again....". The start of another year at BITS Pilani; an oasis in the middle of nowhere, 6 hours from civilization. Never had a Rajasthan roadways bus seemed more appealing than it did on that journey from Jaipur to Pilani at the end of those monotonously droning two and a half months. A new year came with added baggage of loads of expectations, the least of those being a halfway decent CGPA. the more pragmatic among us stuck to the hope that with some luck, we would escape with just one or two missed tests. Little did we know that pragmatism had an entirely different meaning in second year at BITS.

Carrying affidavits as well as high hopes of 'interacting' with juniors, we entered the institute gates for what we hoped would be the most eventful of our years at Pilani. Well, if the first 3 weeks are to be any kind of an indication, this is gonna be one helluva year. Starting from actually ragging juniors to getting caught for harmless 'non-ragging' and being punished and from getting selected into the English press club to writing such an unbelievably rude article about a candidate in the college elections that it had be literally butchered by the editor, I'd seen it all in the first few days. And missed tests of course.

Actually the first month, with its department and club interactions, campus elections and DC++, has almost flown by in such a blur that its a wonder I even managed to set foot into each of the FD's. Errr...on second thoughts I actually haven't set foot into each of the FD's. But who cared about those...really!! It almost seems as if the bucket-list of the entire second year has already been exhausted in the first month itself! And....if its the barbecued chicken you're wondering about, have you forgotten...THIS IS PILANI, 6 hours from civilisation.

Making Memories!!!

Its been nearly a month and a thensome since I started my countdown.......the one which takes me back to pilani of course! And I've ben diligently counting down each day one-by-one; with just 4 days remaining now. And I'm really really psyched; which goes without saying of course. But then, on second thoughts, why exactly am I happy?? I mean I'm leaving the comforts of my air conditioned room for a dark and dingy single occupancy room; leaving my mom's awesome cooking for the unthinkable mess food .

It's true of course that almost everyone has to make the same transition, but my happiness and excitement is very obviously much more than any of my friends( so much so in fact that my wingies have started an online poll on my wing's secret facebook group about the various reason which could be dragging me back to pilani; some really interesting options on that too!!). So my reasons have to be different than my friends' right?

Well the simplest explanation is maybe I simply enjoy college life more than my peers. Those chat sessions on the hostel roof at night, walking back from class with friends, sampling new stuff at the redi everyday with friends, going to cnot for the ocassional treat, returning from the lib at midnight, jaipur treats with wingies as well as dept friends, late night trips to ANC, wing cricket, playing mafia through the night, the list really is endless. Each of these things are so deeply etched in my memory that life almost seems incomplete without it.

In fact, sometimes I'm scared if I'll get back those same things which I've so fallen in love with. If it were up to me I'd rather relive my first year  than move onto my second. Maybe this tendency of not letting go is what makes me different. Prone to misery, yes; but different. But then of course there's this rational side of my brain which takes over and reminds me that the only reason we look forward to things in life is because they are unknown. Well, conflict between these two parts of my brain's nothing new for me, so I'll just let them fight it out for themeselves!!

Damn it!! I'm getting nostalgic about college even before I've begun my second year. Wonder what's gonna happen when I finally pass out. Dont really wanna think about that right now though. But suddenly I remember my Dad's enthusiasm when he's discussing my college life with me, almost as if he's reliving those moments himself. I remember his words: "This is the single most enjoyable time you will ever have in your entire life. So live it well. Live it so fully that you never have any regrets when you think about it later". And I realise, now's not the time to go back down the memory lane; now is the time for MAKING MEMORIES!

To Hope or Not to Hope!!

To hope or not to hope? That's one big question on my mind right now. And the worst part is, I have equally compelling arguments for both sides. My eternal philosophy has been to not expect anything from life, basically live on no hopes. At least then you're not hurt when your hopes are dashed. And I've found myself vindicated pretty often, inasmuch that I've always managed to take the bad falls in my stride. I do not know whether I'd have been able to do that if I'd always 'hoped' for the best.         
              
 But then, it does seem quite a loser thing to do; not hope. I mean the people who said 'hope sustains life' definitely knew their stuff right? Plus, it's not like I myself have never hoped for anything, I'd be a hypocrite if I said that. Of course I've hoped for things, maybe not expected them, but certainly there was a glimmer of light in a corner of my mind. But then the sane rational part of my mind has never been bereft of self doubts. Good or not I dont know but that's how it always has been.

But of late, I've started questioning my philosophy more than usual, supplemented, of course by watching a video of 'The Secret' on youtube and a second-time viewing of 'Shawshank Redemption'. If hope indeed is that good a thing, then why hasnt it been good to me? Most likely because of the huge bags of negative emotions I've been carrying. But then again, the question is can anyone have a positive frame of mind at all times?? I mean aren't self doubts gonna creep in even in the most self- assured of people? The game of statistics again I guess.

But my greatest question right now is, can I afford to hope? Well if it was left to me I'd let things remain the way they are; 'hopeless', in a manner of speaking. Change doesn't come easily to me. The niche I've carved for myself seems too comfortable a place to leave. For right now I can atleast think that I may someday be able to overcome this barrier and start hoping. But the day I hope and fall, I don't know whether I'll have enough strength to stand back up.

But there is something that I do know. I will never be able to live with myself until I try, until I know for sure that this is what is good for me, until I have lost all hope of hoping! I wont ever know if I have the strength to get up until I've fallen; and whatever else I might be, I'm surely not this, a coward. What will come, will come; and I will deal with it. But for now, I HOPE.

Ten things to do before I die!

Its 12:45 am and its been two hours since I finished watching final destination. And as every person who's ever watched that movie will agree, death is the foremost, or maybe the only thing on your mind once you've watched it. Well, the good thing is I'm not thinking abt the gory ways leading to death, but the not so good thing is I'm still thinking of death nonetheless. And I suddenly felt, what if I were to die tomorrow; drop off; just like that. Not a very good thought i admit, one that would surely send my mom into a tizzy, but a thought nonetheless.

And when i thought about dying, Strangely the emotion I felt wasn't of fear; rather one of incompleteness. And i realised it wasnt the idea of dying that scared me, but that of dying without having done anything! So I decided to make this 'Oh so awesome' list of things to do before I die. Seemed a great idea. But somehow I couldn't seem to come up with anything really good; something which would remove that nagging feeling. I mean, travelling the world, staying in 5 star hotels, and other such stuff seemed good, but just not good enough!

Damn this was irritating; attribute it to my lazy nature or anything else; dying seemed easier than this. And just as I was about to give up, a thought struck me; maybe nothing can make up for death, maybe that is the reason why people fear death so much. And in a flash of consciousness I came up with the perfect solution. I didnt have the list of ten things to do before I die; but i did have THE thing to do before I die: LIVE.