Guest Post: The Butterfly

She is like a butterfly,
A butterfly that sings,
Who came out of her cocoon,
And spread her lovely wings,
In the shadow of her lovely lady wings,
Is where I saw the beauty of little things.

Her flight is simple and yet it is divine,
And it’s in her eyes where I see the love flow like rhine.
It’s her little dance that makes one ponder
And makes thoughtful men wonder.
It’s not flowers where she sits,
It’s the dreams of many lads which every night she visits.

She needs to be treated gently,
As she is too delicate,
While expressing one’s love for her,
one fails to be eloquent.
Her absence is malady,
Her presence is remedy

She doesn’t live on nectar,
It’s love that she craves.
Not lives does she rescue,
Its souls that she saves.
I don’t know why they call it a butterfly,
While she actually flutters by….

This post is written by Isan Basu. Biker, movie buff, rock fan, happy go lucky, loves acting etc etc.
Artwork courtesy: Cheyenne Illustration


Today Was NOT A Fairytale

Lol haha funny pics / pictures / President Snow / Hunger Games Humor / Catching Fire / School / Couples / SO TRUE!!

So one time I saw this guy I had a fling with. He was with another girl, allegedly his new girlfriend. It shouldn’t have been a big deal, considering I was the one who blew him off. But it still mattered. Mattered enough to bulldoze my heart out flat. Maybe because I suddenly realized the things I lost out on when I turned my back on the aforementioned guy. But I am extremely certain it was because they looked really happy. And I am not. And if there’s anything I hate more than not being happy is having to look at happy couples.

They are the worst, oblivious to the world and just glowing with happiness in their bubble of champagne and liquid chocolate, trying to validate each others existence through co-dependence. Or something. And it’s obviously worse, if you are just standing there thinking you could have been in that bubble. But no. He was just too boring for you, you interesting unicorn. 

But its okay. Its alright. Maybe one of these days it may just happen for you. Although reality would contradict that. You obviously don’t have your shit together. You still think what random strangers think about your physical appearance triumphs over what your near and dear ones think about the real person inside you. You hold grudges and you are superficial. You strive to find that mythical perfection in others when neither do you give someone time to get comfortable with you or are the so called epitome of perfection yourself. You still don’t respect yourself enough for you to cut out people who don’t respect you.

You need to take yourself seriously. You need to stop being so deprecating of yourself and try to become the mature, level-headed individual you want to be with. And moreover, you’ve got to stop looking for it, because you are only going to look in all the wrong corners and kiss frogs who are going to turn into princes for others and not you. But mostly, you have stopped loving yourself which needs to be stopped.

To be Honest

I mean she was really happy. She was doing something that she really enjoyed. Studying something that I think she wanted deep down in a subconscious way forever. And it brought her out of her hometown and she was travelling, which she always wanted. It made her feel so independent. Ok, maybe, she didn’t really make herself independent and she was burning a huge hole in her Dad’s pocket and all his savings were going for a toss. But she thoroughly felt guilty about it. She felt so guilty, she started distancing herself from her parents. And buying more unnecessary things. They made her fill in a lack of something she knew she felt, but wasn’t able to point as to what it could be.

But all this hard work and money was for something that’d help her achieve her dreams and it was what she was passionate about. Although she may not have been really good at it – sometimes she felt she disillusioned herself into thinking that this was what she was meant to be. No, let me rephrase that – it was something she could be. Sometimes though there would be a few assurances that maybe she showed a glimmer of something that may someday count and she would eventually reach the stage that she wanted to stand in. But I will agree, the rebuke is more than the share of assurance. And more struggle than anticipated. Or for that matter way less job satisfaction than you’d think. Sometimes it felt like all this years of studying and all this money was wasted to programme her to crumble under the reality. She felt like a lab mouse, a lab mouse that knew about the human history and civilization and the all the recent scientific explorations, who was now being forced to smell the cheese and cross the maze. The mouse wasn’t trained for this. What the fuck was happening?

But enough about her work, atleast she did find some good friends in the process. I mean, the ones she didn’t have a fall out with already. That ought to count for something, shouldn’t it? Sure, she sometimes felt that they barely got her or that they fitted into a picture of which she needed to be forcefully drawn into. But they cared for her. Sure, they did. And they’d keep in touch. Though you do tend to loose connect and it was her last year. After all, there were few from school she still spoke to. Ok, not you know, literally. Electronically message each other. But she did meet them. Once a year. But they always picked up right where they left off. They were all doing so well for themselves too. They were sure about the next step. She was really glad for them. Ok, maybe later when she was walking back home or idly scrolling through her newsfeed, she couldn’t help comparing her life to theirs, now and then. But, I mean, that was totally harmless. She knew it wasn’t a competition.

And she would eventually find her path. Or maybe she’d settle. But she’d be happy, right? I mean what’s the worst that could happen to her? Depression and a few other psychological disorders if she wasn’t strong enough to handle the rejection, right? She’d grown stronger than that. Ok, I’ll admit, she may have had a history of depression that stemmed from being rejected, but what are you trying to get at? She had recovered and she was stronger. And it’s not like she’d be alone in her struggle – she’d definitely have someone by her side. So she hasn’t met them by now. People have met their life partners at 50 or something. That basically gives her like 3 decades. Not that she’ll meet hers when she’d be 50. She has had been with guys. Maybe not the best of them. Ok, mostly, just jerks, but they were attracted to her. She’s got it in her. Except, that one particular guy, she really fell hard for. And that other one, who wasn’t into her when they were making out. Ok, maybe she wasn’t that hot. So what?

Look, she was happy.

Despite it.

Artwork courtesy: Jennifer Yoswa

To Cal, With love

Dear Kolkata,

You have given me a lot of shit.

You have thrown rude, indecent people at me who don’t give me change or my money back, people who stomp over my heart. You have made me cry and made me angry. You are lethargic, corrupt and in a state of limbo out of which you just don’t seem to get out no matter from whichever direction change promises to blow through.

There are 99 problems with you but then you do one of those things where suddenly in the midst of the worst heat, you cool down with this beautiful breeze blowing through, the sky is lit up with the sun setting and there is a rainbow and you have red, yellow, white flowers strewn over your paved roads. You make me smile all over again. And I remember all that you have given me.

Sure you have thrown a lot of shit over the three years I have been with you – you made me sick, you made me run down the street crying and you always caught me offguard with the showers (seriously, what’s up with that?). But for every shit you threw at me, you gave me means to clean it up or shrug it off and get on with it. You gave me friends I could call up at 3 am knowing they’d pick up on the other end, you gave me a home away from home, you gave me stories and experiences I’ll remember forever. I learnt to laugh at myself and I learnt to open up and I made my own family here. You gave me random kind strangers who’d give up seats in crowded buses and would point me in the right direction when I’d get lost. Gave me the courage to take risks and face failures and defeat. And most importantly, whenever things got crazy or I got crazy you helped me calm down and uncloud the things in my mind. You helped me become calmer. And you helped me find my voice and how not to just keep it to myself. I grew up and you saw over that.

And just as I am ready to settle in, I will have to make a move soon enough. I have a year in my hand with you left. And this isn’t a premature goodbye. No, I still have a good deal of time with you and I plan to make the most of it with you till the eventual parting comes.

It just felt like one those days I had to tell you how I felt about you. Before it was too late, and I had my bags packed.

So, know that I have loved you dearly. Always have, always will.


Photo courtesy: Sohini Kumar

Of those unloved ones

People expect others in their life to accept them for what they actually are – skin, bone, soul, thought. It is after all a packaged deal and if you want an exchange, baby, that’s hurting. No one wants to change and no one wants to force change on anyone else either. It is after all about the genuine, unaltered and unadulterated experience. Which makes me wonder, if we expect other human being to accept ourselves for who we are, why are we that much more afraid of accepting ourselves – skin, bone, soul, thought?

One look at an advertisement endorsing magic products with unrealistic results or a person up in big lights with man-made beauty, that’s enough for us to brand ourselves with defects. Our ideas are not good enough for us. We are not smart enough for ourselves. We find so many faults with ourselves, we cloud our merits. I remember, one day I sat down and just wrote everything that is wrong with me and after a while I deduced I am a horrible human being. I could not come up with one good thing I could say about myself. Each and every day, we are rejecting ourselves.

It would be a realist thing to look at a spade and call it a spade, and maybe we all are realists here – but reality was giving me an internal haemorrhage. After the aforementioned experiment I tried, I secluded myself in a rather grimy place, some days against my own wishes. Masochism was fun for so long, the pleasure soon started to wane and all that was left was the pain – hollow and empty. Not the best of state to be in, but as Gotye says, “You can get addicted to a certain kind of sadness”. But resigning when you are young and beautiful is not the most fabulous thing to do. At all.

Doing the fabulous thing here would be examining the scars and the bruises. Trying to remember the story behind it, and realise you are a book. Dog eared, cracked at the bind, yellowing, warm things filled with dreams and stories to tell. If you think you are not as good as the person you are comparing yourselves with, maybe you don’t have to be. Maybe it’s just about being as good as you can get. Fitting in your shoes and walking all the miles. And if you have hard days and they seem to just schedule them all around your calendar, don’t curse your luck – that’s her job, to go bad at times. 5 years down the line, it would either be what changed your life or be too trivial to remember

We are not perfect, perfection is a concept. We are the real deal – dried skin, broken bones, tainted souls and perverted thoughts. We are all over the place, we are infinite.

Happy Valentine’s Day to you.

Guest Post : Love In Denial

large.gif (380×277)Strange butterflies, trying to conceal your blush, hell lot of awkwardness, specifically at all the wrong situations. Congratulations, you are welcome to the world of love but stay in denial. Before the non-experienced starts judging by just seeing the vague picture of what it’s all about, let me warn them: You are in for more than what you had planned for. Liking his tact, company, conversations, jokes, smile, eyes… suddenly you find yourself in an off-limit zone. You just say, “Okay! This was not supposed to happen. So it might not just happen. Stop hallucinating and focus somewhere else.” His laugh, out of nowhere, keeps coming to your mind, like a hundred times a day or his face in front of your eyes. Just an infatuation. Nothing risky about it. It will go away even before you would notice. Good, if it luckily goes away; otherwise all the very best for the rest of your life. Atleast for whatever time you are required to live in that situation. With every dawn, you start praying for it to go away. With every dusk, you start believing that it won’t, aggravating your urge to leave it all. Along come the means to do that- distractions; mostly bad ones. But what can be the reasons for the non acceptance of your feelings, even to oneself. After all we are the best keeper of our secrets, having all of them carefully locked at the back of our head. But what’s with another secret? The reason is not hidden at the back of the head, its right in front. Your conscious may be filled with guilt or you fear that your life will be filled with complications. Of all the things, what sucks most is when he is a dear friend. More than just feelings are at stake. All’s well until your behaviour remains unaltered. Obviously you have your best interests at heart for everybody and him, but the outer attitude just not matches with it. You were so good with him, rather normal. But who knew normality is one hell of a job now. You keep apologising for your demeanour and everytime fortunately it gets accepted. You feel bad, not that it happened, because you are not sure if you’ll ever be able to stop it completely. Eventually the question gets raised, “Why is he the chosen one for dumping all your bad mood swings?” You have no answer. Even though you are not doing anything wrong to him, instead doing to yourself all that’s wrong, but you just politely take everything on you. Own up your mistakes one more time, not owning your feelings one more time. Amidst all of it, that smile in that face keeps paying visit to you, as often as possible.

This post is written by Kammia Karan. Anonymous and fucked up in her own special way. 

They still lose

He looked at her,
and so did she.
He saw the years wasted.
She saw her life wasted.
Was it supposed to turn out like this? It was love at first sight. It was the fiery passion. It was one for all and all for one.
Friends were forgotten, families discarded. To separate lives from the world, to make a world of their own.
It was Romeo and Juliet who won at the end.
But were they winning?
The conversations died.
The passion fizzled.
Love became routine.
Romeo missed his friends, “Am I not enough for you?”, asked Juliet.
Juliet missed her home. “Am I not your home now?”, asked Romeo.
Things went cold, and things went bitter.
If you can’t hold onto the love, is it really love?
Time is cruel, it cruelly brings out the truth. Even truths you didn’t think existed. So they ask themselves, were all the tender moments a lie? Was that longing a trick?
They try to hold on. Fight each other to have a fighting chance.
If they let go, it all becomes a mistake.
They try to hold on. But its getting difficult now, mending ties torn require energy.

And he looks at her again and she looks right back.
They try to see the person they fell for.
But the lights are too dim, too hazy to see things clear.

Tomorrow could be a different day.

Photograph courtesy : Manuel Estheim