Monday, March 10, 2008

The Halwa Controversy

I flunked in 2nd year as everyone knows. I entered a new batch very consciously. Thank Heavens, fourteen other classmates too flunked along with me. So in this new batch, I stepped in with an iron armour. We were the first flunkies in the history of College of Art. And on top of that everyone knew I was gay. So a double whammy. For the first few months I stuck to my herd (The flunky herd, who graze in the backside of all their classes) Then slowly and gradually I started opening up. I made friends with people from the new batch. And by now I was friends with most of the girls (Will & Grace effect- gay, girl and gossip are synonymous terms) Yeah there are a few guys too, the sweet and gullible ones, who don't really care if you're gay. They're just happy being friends with everyone, and I respect them for that. And apart from that I made nice acquaitainces with almost the whole batch, even the students from the Painting and Sculpture department. So by the end of this second 2nd year, I was on top of the world. I made so many friends and college-life was going so smooth that I started telling people around that this current batch is the best batch I ever had (No offense friends from my previous batch, I still love you. But cum'on we all know I wasn't much of a hit back then, was I?)


So right when I thought this was the perfect college life I could ever have, it all blew up in my face. One day, I got to hear about a lot of nasty stuff the guys talk about me being gay. One of the major ones is that, they call us "Halwa". Yes, you read it right. Halwa. I know, right? Why on earth Halwa? Like how does Halwa correlate to being gay? Why not Rasgulla or Gulab-Jamun or even Rasmalai, that even sounds gay. And how on earth did they come to know that my mother took great pleasure in stuffing Sooji ka Halwa down my throat since childhood till the time I even came to know the meaning of the term 'Gay'? So, my whole image of a great batch, great college life came crashing down like a castle of cards. I was surprised. I sulked and stuttered. And I was pissed. The names I got were most of the straight guys in our batch. And the worst part was that I took them as my good acquaintainces. They would always be nice to me and greet me whenever they saw me. And I simply couldn't believe that it was them who talked things like this about me. Not that I was any stranger to all of this. Being the class weirdo for ten years back in school taught me enough. But back then I didn't even know who I was so I ignored it all. And I was so used to it. But now after traversing the arduous journeys of coming out of the closet and estabilishing an identity for myself, this was something totally uncalled for. I was angry this time. I stopped all the routine formality of hi's and bye's, leave alone even talking. I stepped back into that iron armour. But this time, it was all stuffy and rusted inside. For a long time I was confused. I just didn't know how to react. But as I always say, time is a miracle medicine.


I realised I was angry because in spite of all the suicide attempts and the bouts of depression I slowly started to believe that the world is a better place to live in after all. My first 2nd year was screwed up, at least it was much better in the second go. I believed I was a part of a "batch", which is more like a team. And I was angry because I was wrong. But now I realise, that I'm actually thankful to all these people. They made me understand that nothing is ever perfect. No matter however hard I try, I can never fit in. I will always stand out. Be it in college or workfront or family or anywhere else. I was born to stand out. But it's fine. I accept it. I'll read it otherwise as : "I was born to be out-standing!" How about that? So bring it on! Call me Halwa if you want. If I can make peace with G**** then this is nothing. And you know what? I even love Halwa. The only halwa I don't like is Sooji one (Sorry mom, I always hated it!) But I'll make it easier for you. Call me Gajar Ka Halwa, in case you forget the name is Shubham Bose Roy.

In Front Of My Eyes



Forgetting is tough, your basking face each morning

Forgetting seems hard, your silly jokes while my crying

What happened to that sweet dream that I imagined

Why did reality strike so hard and so abandoned

I had been living in darkness, a long never ending night

You rode the chariot of sun into my life, with the blinding light

Blind indeed went my lonesome heart, in your love of great height

Lost in a world away from all senses, hear, feel and sight

And slowly…

The serpent of change slithered in our lives

And slowly…

You moved on and away

And slowly…

Everything changed

And slowly



In front of my eyes, my dreams catch fire, while I stand here paralyzed

In front of my eyes, all the glories set ablaze, blow away in ashes

In front of my eyes, all the emotions shatter down, while the debris shoot away

In front of my eyes you leave me And I had to let you go away


You're still there, all the time and all the mime

Right in front of my eyes….


Its so hard to hold on to this act of dignity and emotionlessness

Its so hard to accept your emotionless act as if nothing happened

Its me who cries everytime and every night

While you're there smiling away, right in front of my eyes

When will come a day that your thought would let me go unaffected

When will come a day that I'll have more important things to think about than you

And I will be strong enough to smile at your joy, right in front of my eyes

And slowly…

Life will return to where it started

And slowly…

The night will follow the day

And slowly…

Someone would come again with the light

But slowly…



In front of my eyes, my dreams catch fire, while I stand here paralyzed

In front of my eyes, all the glories set ablaze, blow away in ashes

In front of my eyes, all the emotions shatter down, while the debris shoot away

In front of my eyes you leave me And I had to let you go away


You're still there, all the time and all the mime

Right in front of my eyes….


This the circle of life

Day follows night, followed by another day

But what we learn from our errors in the day

We try not to repeat it when the nights sway

This is the circle of life

We learn to love and experience heartbreaks

Then we don't keep our hearts in fragile jar

And we try not let anyone break it ajar

Hush! Don’t Move

One by one the days go by, and I'm standing still in the middle of nowhere

Slowly and slowly life rushes by and I don't know where to start

I'm standing here with my inanimate feet begging me to take a step

I'm holding still suppressing my sighful breath screaming to be exhaled

The helpless sun sneaks out of the horizonn behind those eternal clouds

The violets blend in the red all hushed up like some doleful offender

The winds grows cold sliding right beneath my ears whispering something

And this earth keeps always turning away to the dark blindfolded universe


What happened to the world why does it always sink deeper

What happened to the people why do they give in to defeat

What happened to the self that once held all beliefs

What happened to me I'm melting constantly this defeated heat

I'm standing on a quicksand waiting for don't know what

I'm closing my exhausted eyes inspite of hoping for the light

When will you come and pull me out of this holding my hands

When will you wake me up one morning and be right beside


I'm so tired of standing now maybe I'll just sit for a while in the twilight sky

Maybe I'll lay down a bit on the warm grass under this starry stillness

Somewhere near a stream splashes by just too busy with itself

The lullaby winds grow even stronger and I fall asleep in its caress


What happened to the world why have they forgotten the beauty

What happened to the people why have they forsaken all feelings

What happened to the self that once knew to fall in love

What happened to me I'm constantly losing myself in these dreams

I'm standing on a quicksand waiting for don't know what

I'm closing my exhausted eyes inspite of hoping for the light

When will you come and pull me out of this holding my hands

When will you wake me up one morning and be right beside


Suddenly a meteor flashes above

but why does it thunder so deafeningly

A strong feeling of an end surges high

Tears flow shattering hopes endlessly

Will you ever come I don't know the answer

And I don't want to find it anymore

Will you ever wake me up some morning

And I can sleep with that question nomore


I'm standing on a quicksand waiting for don't know what

I'm closing my exhausted eyes inspite of hoping for the light

I will just let this earth clinch me down deeper every moment

And I will sleep a dreamless night with no morning shining bright

Cold Held Still

The chill sets within and everthing grows cold

Slowly the blood freeze and my heart goes numb

A warm breath and a long sigh escapes

Mist sprawling all around sprawling in the eyes

These months of throbbing pain return every time

Stranded in the memory lane all hush and quiet

Someone comes rushing by, footsteps echo hard

In the middle of this winter night who's knocking at my door?

Is it you death who has come to relieve this anguish

Or have you still forsaken me?

Till I let out a wail of desperation?

I've spent a thousand nights staring in the dark

Groping to find myself or to find some trance

I've waited long enough, patience withers away

I can't live like this with a paralysed body and mind

Morning light battles its way through a dismal creak

I have to stand up to open all doors

Death may have forsaken me but life is waiting to be embraced

The mist melts down into dews and trickle out of those eyes

Everything still seems frozen but the sun grows warmer by the time

Slowly the blood melts and rushes to the heart

Someday my identity will surface upto my knowledge

But whats the use of stagnating till then

Let me step out in a warm jacket of faith in time

Let the distant sun heal all my pain

And let the chilly winds show me the way…

Silent Night

Silent night. The dread of his heart. As the clock ticks by, it get's quieter than ever. And every moment his fear expands within. Pin drop silence. Just the monotonous ticking of the second's hand. He can even hear his breath. In and out. At least in the summer the rhythmic noise of the jammed ceiling fan created a sufficient diversion. But it's so cold now. Probably the winters. Has the Christmas gone yet? Don't remember. All day long his mind would be busy talking incessantly with everyone around. Chatting. Gabbing. Joking. Laughing. Smiling. Sulking. Et al… But now, everyone is asleep. And it's so silent. If only he could turn deaf. It's like those lunatics who constantly hear the sound of a wailing child, so they dwell amidst mindless rock music. But in his case, he never heard anything. And that was the case of irony. He heard nothing at all. Silence. As if the time stops. The seconds hand doesn't tick anymore. Silence. Sad and disturbing as if death is lurking around here somewhere. Only it's too scared to embrace him. He's all alone and doesn't know what to do in these stagnant moments of introspection. He avoids the mirrors throughout the day but now he can see himself staring back at him. Funny, there's no expression. Just a blank, dead stare. And there's a hole in his chest. A void. A choking emptiness. And it burns larger and larger everytime he inhales. Like a smoke he used to puff everytime. And the smoke circulates inside like a mist between illusion and reality. And the lusty way it turns and twirls while rest glows and burns into ashes. All these years he has desperately tried to find out what once filled that hollow. But it was like groping in the dark for an unknown entity. Sometimes he would be enlightened. Other times too frustrated. As nothing just seemed to fit in that empty circle. The road to his answers was locked. Although he has the keys, he dare not open it for the wrath of the God would befall upon him. So he just sits back everytime in his little cage of barbed wires. Time and again the barbs would tear into his flesh but he doesn't cry anymore. It's a substitute for all the pleasures he had once abandoned to seek something so much greater, only to realize that it's too magnanimous for his meager comprehension. So he just sits back. It bleeds. It dries. And it heals. He sits back and sits in a state of awe. Observing the escapade of life slithering onto him like a serpent. The moment he discovers the oddity of it, the serpent's grip tightens over the faint lines beneath the pale thin skin on his wrist. But what the hell! Let it rip. Let it end. But my hands are tied and I can't simply help that poor little kid who has been searching for his soul all along. And he is still a kid with those innocent eyes wondering why does he feel so empty all the time. So like the fear of the boogeyman, he fears these paused moments where life halts. And she returns everytime. Who is she? Is it his mother who he never saw after she kissed him before he sank into a last peaceful slumber? Is it the girl he fell in love with who he shivers to even remember? Who is she all dressed inwhite, pacing towards him? She unlocks the door and opens her mouth to say. But I know the words she would utter. "Time for your pills."


Springtime Winds

Just in a couple of weeks the chill is going to fade away. It won't be freezing cold to relieve of our layers of winter clothing. But a cool spring breeze sneaking into our cotton shirts and tingling a silly sensation. The colors will be so much different. The blue will be brighter and green will be shinier. No summer yellows, no autumn oranges, no winter grays and browns... just the mist washed blue of skies and the new born green of fresh leaves. Oh, and not to mention the Valentine's season. Add a hint of bright crimson red to the topping. And you got the perfect recipe for a mushy year ahead. Well, maybe not a year. Maybe just uptil the 12 o clock suns seems too hot to be fooling around. Love is in air. Crane your necks out of your shells and smell the air. You feel will it. Every year this happens. I can feel love inspite of the fact that I haven't found true love yet. But this is the season that blows away the shed leaves of dismay and despair. Of heartbreak and dissapointment. And sprays a new fragrance of hope. A hope, that is so intense as if you believe with your utmost optimism that something good is gonna happen. Something like never before. Probably love. Or maybe even better. Just this hope. A hope that sails us through till the months when the freeze returns in the year end. But there's hope. That next year won't be a celebration of lonliness. A hope that there will be someone warm, saving my emotions from freezing up in the cold. So let's get aboard. And sail this beautiful journey of life. A beautiful year lies ahead...

Lyrics Inscribed In Your heart

So you have to agree with this: There is at least one such lyric that somehow leaves a major landmark down the memory lane. Whenever the song is on the radio, or on a background score of a movie or even while flipping the channels you realise that you just missed out on the video and you soothe yourself with the last few words; reminiscizing how deeply those words affected you when you first heard them. It was moving!

Mind sharing it?



Here's Mine…


Sorrow is something that I've learned is an inherent part and parcel of our lives. Can't escape it, it always catches up on you. Be it a heartache that refuses to heal, or a betrayal that burns itself in anger, or a loss that echoes of its emptiness or a lie that makes every cherished moment so utterly meaningless or just a simple regret that lingers on with question mark of, "What if I had taken my chances?"… Maybe it's a morning of not feeling to get out of bed- Ahh! Sleep is so detaching from all this crap! Or a Lunch consisting of an over-boiled bowl of Maggi (Its still sagging wet). Or a siesta of sulking over miniscule things that once mattered so much to you and it reduces into ashes over the kitchen stove now. The evening hours spent stuffed in the couch with the TV barbling whatever, while you wonder why you are giving up so bad that you haven't even bathed for a week now… never mind the shave. And dinner doesn't feel like cooking amidst miserable lonliness, instead streams of tears does fill up the appetite (has crying always been a nocturnal activity?) And then finally you slap yourself and say that's it. No more. You call up your friends, hit a pub and get totally drunk followed by a humungus brick of choco chip (I think you still got some of that choco syrup left in the fridge) and say "Fuck the diet and Fuck all this shit!!!" And yes, that's a moment when you experience the ultimate release. Release from the shackles of all sorrows! Free at last. All you needed to do was let go. So simple yet so hard to accept… But sometime or other all of us do that after all. Its human nature. We always move on…


LET GO by Frou Frou


Drink up baby down

Are you in or are you out?

Leave your things behind

'Cause it's all going off without you

Excuse me too busy you're writing a tragedy

These mess-ups

You bubble-wrap

When you've no idea what you're like


So, let go

Jump in

Oh well, what you waiting for?

It's all right

'Cause there's beauty in breakdown

So, let go

Just get in

Oh, it's so amazing here

It's all right

'Cause there's beauty in breakdown


It gains the more it gives

And then advances with the form

So, honey, back for more

Can't you see that all the stuff's essential?

Such boundless pleasure

We've no time for later

Now you can't wait

You roll your eyes

We've twenty seconds to comply


So, let go

Jump in

Oh well, what you waiting for?

It's all right

'Cause there's beauty in breakdown

So, let go

Just get in

Oh, it's so amazing here

It's all right

'Cause there's beauty in breakdown

The Field

Imagine... A field of white lilies and instead of green underneath its translucent, like ice sculptures... but they're not ice. Its falling snow, but its not snow... Its not freezing cold, nor is it hot. Cool breeze blow all around you in a cobalt blue sky and cottons of clouds shift and flow away. And its such a beautiful feeling that you just want to stop the time and relish it forever. You wish it was heaven. Wish the afterlife is as beautiful as this. Life itself as been worse than hell itself. But this time I won't moan. I'm even tired of doing that. I'm still counting my days. But for some reason my mind is totally blank now. I'm not passing every second in hatred in pain anymore. Its just passing by. Hardships and mess ups are still there... but for some peculiar reason I'm seem to be so unaffected. Its as if feelings are just numbed now and emotions are scooped out of my heart. I'm not looking for love anymore and I'm not running away from hate. Its as if I have halted down in this pure white field and the whole world is moving in a blurry fast forward and I'm not least bothered about keeping a track of anything. Funny its so much better than being on anti-depressants or being drunk! At least I'm in my senses. I can feel everything physically but spiritually its just withering away. I'm still scattered in fragments. I shattered the last time and decided I was too tired for not letting it be the last time. So I lay there until the sun shone up. And what is this feeling? Are the fragments shining in a blinding light for a last time before they dissipate into an unexistence? Probably. And I too hope they are...

A Hushed Silence

Dear Reader

I will be sharing my blogs on this site. It's a sort of an outlet to all that I have seen in life. I just wanted to express them. Anyone reads it or not, I'm not concerned with that. If you do get yourself to read the whole thing, then I'll have all the gratitude for you in my heart.

There is something peculiarly special about us humans. Each and every person is unique in its own way. The human mind is like a software, or say a set of functions that are programmed to work independently with logic and reason. I know it can be explained more deeply in a further detailed fashion, but I'm not really caring to indulge into those heavy technological terms. But yes, what makes every living creature different from the softwares et al, is the sense of independent judgement. A dog knows to differ amongst enemies and his owner; whom to bark at and after whom to wag his tail around. But on a higher level what makes humans so unique, is the quality of emotions which eventually affects the sense of judgement to a greater level. Emotions. Emotions are the most complex facet of human life. And is it can be seen, the more complex the composition, the more complex the problems arise. And because every human being is unique, his problems too are unique. Yes, the problems maybe similar in some way or other for commonality of a number of people; but even amongst them each person's problem is unique. Only that person can understand the intensity of his situation to a extent which no one else can. You may hear many a people say, "I understand what you are going through" but in actuality they do only to a certain percentage of it, at most say 99%. Still, the 1% is personal to you that no one else can feel. Why I'm starting my blog with this note is that, on reading the later blogs, you may feel at points- disgusting, funny, of no importance or things like that. But to me, that same disgusting might be pleasurable; that same funny might be aggravating or humiliating or that unimportant issue maybe painfully of great importance. Okay, I'll set an example. One morning you read about two girls being child abused at two separate incidents. You may feel sorry, or whatsoever for them, but only upto an extent. You have been hearing about child abuse news since like forever, so it isn't new for you. But it is new to the girls on whom this crime has been inflicted upon. Only they know the intensity of it. Even on a micro level, one of them can wholly feel what the other has gone through. Say in Girl A's case, the assaulter is a total stranger or rather an enemy to the girl. Alongwith the saddistic physical assault, he also harms her with verbal abuse, like discouraging comments about her appearance, her parents and so on. On other hand, say Girl B knows her assaulter like some uncle. He deceives her and tricks her into the wrongdoing. He may not beat her, he may not swear upon her; but he may inflict mental agony by emotionally blackmailing and stuff. She had loved and trusted him and he shattered that, so it is a shock in itself. So you see, both the situations are very distinct in themselves. Now, twenty years later suppose both of them get to know each other somehow and gradually share each others' experience and may feel that they understand what the other has gone through, but in reality they can't even imagine the horror or the dissapointment the other has faced.

So when you read about the deepest and untold secrets of my life, I have one advice: Don't judge, because you may not be in a position to do so, but please try to understand the surrounding circumstances in which such incidents occur. Other people maybe going through a similar situation to mine, if not exactly the same. And a similar one can be better or even worse than the original incident.


The Bong

P.S: This is an impulsive writing, rather than a complsive writing. Compulsive writing is when you write with the thought in mind that "I have to/should/must write". But impulsive writing is totally out of an impulse. Its just when you suddenly want to express yourself through words. So since it depends all on my mood, I can't promise you regular installments, but yes, I will try my best. Your interests maybe a source of encouragent for me…