The Diary of an extraordinary Gentleman

  My uncle- Dr. M.K. Hazra- is a one-of-a-kind character, peculiar in every single sense.  My earliest memory of him was that I was horrified by his appearance. I would be so scared that I would often cover my eyes or hide behind my aaya’s dupatta. All of us who have had the privilege of knowing him would agree to have always seen him color coordinated. He mostly wore a white shirt along with a pair of white trousers and wore a full-rim black eyewear. He would often be spotted peeping out of the window of his infamous nursing home.  About two decades ago, this nursing home (that was named after his mother ``Mandakini)’ was popular for illegal abortions. It was the safe haven for all those burqa clad women who got pregnant with their lovers only to realize that they committed the original sin. With nowhere left to go, uncle was their God-sent messenger, who could undo most of their mistakes. If all the stories I heard while growing up were true, uncle seemed to be very pop...

We walked bare feet on the sandy beach As the waves came crashing against the shore; We held hands as we ran into the sea And leaped at every wave that came too close The sky looked enthralling as the sun began to set The sound of the waves was all that we could hear; You looked at me with your enchanting eyes As you pinched my nose and my ears The clouds soon roared with fury and rage As the winds picked up the scent of the rain You leapt into my arms like a frightened child And we strode back to the place where we stayed The rains soon came fumbling down As we scurried to find some shelter I stopped to steal a kiss from your lips As you looked ravishing in your rain-kissed hair The night is long gone now and so are you; But every single memory is still so fresh Just like the dandelions that you painted with my brushes My love for you is still the same.

Today was an extremely interesting day. I was embarking on my quest to bring back my secret lover from the clutches of a villain who had kidnapped her. “Which bedtime story did you copy?” asked Nivriti during a telephonic conversation with me. “Well I got inspired from ‘The Life of Pi.” I replied. “Oh! I had watched it, but seem to have forgotten it.” “The narrator had narrated his tragic misadventure in a creative and brilliant fashion.” I explained.  “The real story in my case is that a client owes me some money and I am going to Assam to get my cash back. Nivriti burst out into laughter. I had finished all my daily chores and headed to the great ‘Howrah Station’. Getting there by a car is like riding horseback through a raging war. Nevertheless, I needed to get there and an employee had suggested an alternate route. As usual, nothing can go impeccably perfect when it involves me. Something has to go wrong, or else it will be defying the natura...

Brother why do you stare at the ceiling fan? Or wander about like a ghost on your rooftop; Trying to drain down your sorrow By immersing yourself in a glass of alcohol Why is it that you feel that the end that you seek Is better than what life holds for you tomorrow? Can you be certain of salvation, And free yourself from the cycle of life and death? Tonight, don’t worry about those who love you; The tears that they shed will dry up soon But for once, think about yourself; And ask yourself if this is your redemption And that the next life happens to be worse? I know that this world is not a fair place; Where often pleasure gets overshadowed by pain When no one seems to understand you or reckon how you feel Let this not be the end of your journey. Fight! Fight your demons and conquer your soul Be the warrior that you were destined to be, For people are nothing but a sea of rolling stones You are but a hero passing through the eye of ...

It is funny how our life is nothing but a pursuit. We keep running behind money, career and of course- women to satiate our soul. It was one of those gloomy days of my life; a day where I am filled with self-doubt; where I question myself- would I be able to fill in my father’s shoes when he is gone? Will I ever achieve as much as he achieved in his life? Do I deserve all this wealth? After a failed relationship and a failed business venture, an optimist like me wants a second shot at life. Isn’t it a perfect way to welcome the Valentine’s Day- feeling gloomy and pathetic when the entire city is celebrating the joy of love by the lakes and the riverside? Oh! One must visit the infamous ‘Princep Ghat’- my favourite place in this godforsaken city. I often take a stroll through this park at night as it allows people as late as 11p.m. It resembles a bit like the park below Tower Bridge in London. There is the magnificent bridge (Vidyasagar Setu) overlooking a monument built during th...

Prologue What can we say about Gaurav? First of, there can never be a person who would have come across Gaurav and have forgotten him entirely. Well, how could they? It is not every day one gets to meet a character as definable as Gaurav Guha. Gaurav is not the regular Joe one would expect to meet. Though he has a heart of pure gold and has the best intentions for everyone around him, his brain is made of anything but gold; probably God, while creating him, forgot to add some grey-matter inside the thick and heavy skull of his. Legends would have it that Gaurav was born on a new moon night in the month of May, 1991. My best guess would be that he must have farted as the nurse slapped his tiny buttocks, expecting him to cry. The first time I met Gaurav was at my school in Shimla. I still remember him sitting at the long brown dining table in our long and wide dining hall. On Sunday mornings, we had special breakfast every Sundays. The special breakfast menu would comprise ...