My life in few words

year 0-4

Bare Feet and Green Grass

year 4
shoes

year 5-12

A square → a cube → a box

year 13-24

LOCK 

year 25-28

a useless key

year 28-33

A broken lock

future

a bulldozer? 

The biography of mine

"If, after I die, they should want to write my biography,

There's nothing simpler. 

I've just two dates - of my birth, and of my death.

In between the one thing and the other all the days are mine."

- by Fernando Pessoa

I am forever growing, yet I feel I've grown only an inch.

If I write down my life on a piece of paper, we wouldn't come very far as there is a vast of stories to be told. But why do I still feel like my paper is empty?

Some would indicate that it must be because I haven't met the milestones that one should have at my age, others would tell me that it's my great curiosity for wanting to know more. And I would say it's probably my fear of getting old. 

Which ever it is, I do desire to fill that blank paper one day with scribbles and doodles... 

The embarkment

From today I will stop mentioning how I've completely failed to maintain this blog, how I think every once in awhile to write some episode of my life or a piece of a thought, those of whom that have followed this blog know this story too well, and I keep on shaming myself every time I revisit. Conclusion; I settle with knowing that I write once in a blue moon, whenever it occurs.


We've embarked a new year, a clean slate, to fill it with good and bad stories. But stories never the less, most of them common to everyone, but unique to the individual being. However I live this year, someone else has already taken the same foot steps before me, I will just be walking on the same trail but in different shoes.

But this year, I am excited of walking the designated trail. After walking bare feet on many narrow slippery roads, or on hot asphalts, or through sharp thorn bushes or on broken glass, where there hasn't been any option of turning back but then to continue further, even though I've been immensely fatigue, angry and apathetic... I have reached here; on soft silk with tough soles.

I wish to climb a high mountain this year, where I will be dripping sweat, where my thighs will sore. A mountain that will feel never ending, but for every step I climb, I'll feel nothing but the thrill. The thrill of reaching the top, thrill of floating on white clouds in the blue sky, to be able to look down at the beautiful sight of the world... And as my reward, I will leap, I'll leap down, very fast. I will leap so fast that it will be only me and the wind. And when I reach down, I will be wiser and content.*

*For all the mountains I've climbed in South Korea and for all those morning runs up to Namsan. 

Ode to the colours of my life.

It's been almost 1 year in Korea. And I'm find myself to miss eating spicy biryani with raita, eating my mom's cottage cheese when she's not looking before they become juicy rasgollahs and indulging more. Miss my bhabi's colourful laddus, just thinking about them makes my mouth water.

Miss wearing my saris and bindis, putting on the heavy thick kohl around my eyes and the brightest red lipstick I own. Wearing my jhumkhas, with matching glass bangles and payals, ankle bracelets, that makes sound wherever I go.

Being stressed by my father, who is already downstairs dressed and smelling of cologne, which my mother reminded him to put on. He has somehow managed to iron 3 sets of saris and gotten himself suited and watching segments of a football game that he already knows the outcome of.

My mother being extremely annoyed with us, 30 and still can't wear my sari without her help. Adiba running in and out from her room to my room, to my parents room and the bathroom, borrowing make up and jewelry. This girl has still so much to learn but her liner is always on fleek.

Been having this urge for a while now, to dance in a 4 day long Desi wedding to Bollywood and random Bengali songs, choreographed or freestyle. Dancing with my friends and family, doing the most typical Desi moves, twirls and changing light bulbs, in my heavy sari that's at the verge of getting unfolded but somehow staying put together because of that one safety pin. Having my sisters as dance partners and then seeing my mother pulling up my dad to the dance floor and seeing them goofing around with all the other aunties and uncles. Dancing all day long for 4 days straight.

I miss being colourful, loud and free of worries.

I guess no matter where you put me in the world, you won't be able to take out the Desi in me.

Self realisation - utterly nonsense!

You'd think that by now I'd have my sh*t together and achieved most of my life goals, but no. I'm more lost now than I was before, thrown myself in to the unknown thinking that I'd find my way to Ithaka. (Yes, if you haven't notice Ithaka is the only reference I know, sad.)

Every day, I come to realise new things (or the same things but in different light). I always find myself knowing the answers to my problems, yet again I find myself not applying those solutions. Seeing myself, I realise we human beings are quite the funny mammals. Unless we don't have to struggle for survival, most of us seem to create our own issues. We just don't know how to be satisfied with what we have (I might be wrong and this might only refer to me).

I always find myself seeing other people's problems and wishing those were mine as I know I'd be able to easily solve them. But then again knowing that I could solve my own problems, why am I crippled to do something about those? Are we as humans designated to make our lives painful? Don't get me wrong, I am not in anywhere self loathing myself or hating life. I am just questioning myself as a human, after observing others as well, why do we mostly tend to choose the things that are not suitable for us? 

Like every questions in my head, I have an answer for this one too. For the life experience! I know for a fact that I find myself bored after doing the same old thing over and over again. When I am most comfortable in life, my body and soul starts to itch for some needed changes in my life. That's why I could never stick to one thing; reading, writing, art..! My brain craves for more information, more experiences, more wisdom. But with that; life throws me more lemons, in abundance!

I find myself choosing situations that are not appropriate, then as stubborn as I am, I force myself to stick to it even though most of me wants to run faster than Usain Bolt. Because of these tendencies; I have stories of a lifetime... there are times were I walk down the memory lane and get myself surprised over my previous choices. Is this an addiction of mine?  (And yes, I am pretty full of myself!) 

My last day of 20 something

It’s been a while since I sat down and wrote, mostly because I’ve always felt very restricted to express. But as it is my last day of being 20 something, I think I should at least make an effort.

So far life has been nothing but a roller coaster, learning new things every day about myself or the world that I live in. Through good and bad, I’ve realised every part of this journey has been meaningful and made me the person I am today. So this is a shout out to the people in my life.

I am ever grateful to my parents, moving to Sweden and giving us 3 sisters the opportunity to grow our own personalities and individualities. To my father for always responding back “My three daughters are my sons, I don’t need more.” to the people whom have asked him if he wanted a son. For giving us the freedom to think for ourselves, letting us challenge and provoke his thoughts, for always encouraging us to gain knowledge and explore. My choices in life have not been ideal for him, but he’s never stopped me from pursuing them. Mostly I’m extremely grateful for experiencing his generosity, his honesty and humility. I still haven’t met anyone as giving or sincere as my father, even when he’s been misunderstood or ill treated, my father has always explained and taught me that my own actions are bigger and important than others’, no matter how ill treated I get, it only matters how I act. Therefor my father will always be my idol and my hero. My mother for being our strength, the soul of our family. She has sacrificed a lot for this family, provided us with security and comfort. Even though I haven’t seen head to head with my mother a lot of the time, she’s the one who has been there for us all the time. She’s the one who, always tried to pull us up when we are breaking down and patch us back together. Thanks to her, three of us gotten praises for our creativity, cunningness and beauty. Even though we excel in our own ways, I know we will never be as beautiful, witty or strong like her, my mother is a woman of her own kind. I see myself extremely blessed to be a seed of these two individuals, that gave me an unique childhood, introducing us to diversity and letting us flourish. I might look least like them among the three of us, but I daily realise how much I carry their traits within me. 

My sisters, we are three different entities of the seeds of our parents. We tend to clash with our views and our personalities, even in our worse moments, I take pride in us for being different. It just made our family dynamic more interesting and challenging, it gave us scope to grow and better ourselves as humans and provoked us to change. Apu, the crazy fights we’ve had while growing up, it must have been as frustrating and confusing for you as it was for me. I realise now, how most of our arguments were because of insecurity that society had inflicted by always comparing us with each other. I wish we realised it sooner, maybe then we could have appreciated each other for our differences and not competed for our similarities. You and I share a bond only two of us will understand. You’ve had your difficulties as well, building something far way without any help from us and I couldn’t have been more proud of you for that. Thank you for the joy you’ve given us by introducing Bhaia and Ariana to our lives. Adiba, we were hoping for a brother, but I’m glad it was no other than you even though I lost the bet with my teacher. The times you’ve driven me crazy for making me do all your choirs and questioning me for my choices, even now. Though most of the time I call you a brat, you should know that I am proud of you for being sensible and confident from an early age, I don’t think we say it enough. A part of me envy you for that but then again I look up to you, a lot of my recent choices in life have been inspired and influenced by you. Thank you for bringing music into our lives, you truly are an instrument of it’s kind. Our personalities and our choices in life might be different, but we all have the same traits, we’ve grown into three headstrong, independent women.

I’m blessed with most of my friends, they’ve taken the time to understand me as a person, as I’m known to be quite the intense human being. Grateful to them for letting me love them and adore them while they’ve accepted me with my flaws and insanity. As I always say, my heart is a village and I want my close ones to reside there. Tusy and Munna, you’ve accepted me without judging me once, you’ve let me be myself, let me bother you and then given me the space to disappear to only to find my way back to you two, I’m very lucky to have you two as my friends. Samuel, we’ve ridden a big roller coaster together. Our journey might have embarked with a different intention in mind than what it is today, but even with all the struggles both of us have been put through I am glad we keep on find our ways back to each other. I don’t think I could have been sane these last couple of months, if you hadn't offered your shoulder or support. I am grateful for a best friend like you and looking forward to our friendship growing stronger and steadier. Sagar, you know what you are to me, sometimes I feel that you know me better than I do. I will never forget the day you said “I’m happy that you are crying, you needed this in your life.” and right you were! Can’t wait for us two to be in the same country and sipping our coffees and pinching each others cheeks, we are truly bros matched made in heaven. Ana, coming here and spending 2 weeks with me. Giving me pieces of home and bringing back normality, thank you! Angelique and Daniel, I am forever grateful for your friendship, even though I am very bad at showing it. Thanks for putting through with me even when I haven’t been the best of company. Deshakhi for being my partner in crime, luring out the devil in me. Creating memories with me that never can be replaced. My Asian girls, for letting my creativity flow and feeding me. Bridget, for all the quirkiness you brought along. John and Simon, I miss my boys and can’t wait to get back to Sweden to pick up our friendship from where we left off. 

To the people I met here in Korea; Mark, bro I just love you and all the crazies you brought along, specially Patchouli! Scott, you and Hayeong will reside in my heart forever. Brandon, for taking me out for the first time in Seoul, your presence always brightens me up and Andy Oppa for giving me a place to go to even if I only drink water. I can’t wait to grow old knowing that I’ve met so many amazing people in my life, I am truly blessed!

So I embark my 30s with excitement and strength, looking forward to change, adapt and gain wisdom, better myself, putting myself through new life adventures whatever they might be. Even though I don’t know what and where my Ithaka is, today I’m putting sail towards it. I only wish not to find Ithaka too soon…  

Garberas are my favourite

Got an early birthday present today, a bouquet of garberas :) Yay!!

Red brick wall be gone.

There is a red brick wall standing in my way, not too high but not short enough for me to jump over to the other side. I’ve been standing here for a while now, to be honest I have been standing here for years, soon a decade.
This red brick wall was a hurdle that I thought I’d overcome in matter of hours, but hours became days and days became years. I painted over the red with sunny yellow colour, planted a cherry tree and put a bed close to the wall. I made it my home, even though I know that I don’t belong here and something better lies on the other side of the wall.
Somewhere along the way I’ve stopped trying and have decided to satisfy with less. I made myself believe that this is better than what lies behind the wall, though at nights I wake up to nightmares taunting me of my failure.
I am hoping in vain that someday I’ll wake up to see that the wall has vanished to thin air. But no matter how big the storm gets, the wall remains standing in front of me.
At times I get frustrated; I scream, I kick, I weep. I make myself the victim, treated unfairly by God. No matter how much I lie, I know that I am to blame for my own misery and no one else.

This happens quite often at our home.

While sitting in my room, going through pictures on facebook, thinking no one will disturb me and suddenly...

8:42pm

Adiba

Sakun, pappa vill att du ska frietera några rolls..

Han är sugen..och mamma ska ut!

8:42pm

Me

VA FAN?

han bad dig, right?

8:44pm

Adiba

Jag kan inte fritera dummer!

Han skulle aldrig be mig!

--------------------------

I suspect that Adiba is craving for rolls and not my dad.

A Favourite Poem of Mine

Ithaca

When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,

pray that the road is long,

full of adventure, full of knowledge.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the angry Poseidon -- do not fear them:

You will never find such as these on your path,

if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine

emotion touches your spirit and your body.

The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,

the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,

if you do not carry them within your soul,

if your soul does not set them up before you.

Pray that the road is long.

That the summer mornings are many, when,

with such pleasure, with such joy

you will enter ports seen for the first time;

stop at Phoenician markets,

and purchase fine merchandise,

mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,

and sensual perfumes of all kinds,

as many sensual perfumes as you can;

visit many Egyptian cities,

to learn and learn from scholars.

Always keep Ithaca in your mind.

To arrive there is your ultimate goal.

But do not hurry the voyage at all.

It is better to let it last for many years;

and to anchor at the island when you are old,

rich with all you have gained on the way,

not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.

Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.

Without her you would have never set out on the road.

She has nothing more to give you.

And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.

Wise as you have become, with so much experience,

you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.

- Constantine P. Cavafy

03:28 am - The world outside looks like a sepia-toned photography...

I opened up my door and there he was.

I've missed him, I thought he had disappeared for good. But like always, he suddenly appeared from nowhere knocking on my door.

I could sense his excitement by the way he was knocking; there is a story to be shared/heard tonight.

As he steps in, the orchestra in the background starts to play Tchaikovsky's winter daydreams and my room turns into a winter paradise, floor cold as frozen lake and my bed is a pile of fluffy snow, I'm still bare feet in a t-shirt.

He sits beside me on the snow pile and we look up... the night is beautiful. There is no colour to be seen, just sepia-toned white snow and dark night. And he starts his story...

He'll stay beside me rest of the night, keep on telling me beautiful stories. But in the morning when I wake up he'll be gone and like always I'll wait till next season for his tales.

"...And now my daylight thoughts Are as tangled as my black hair."

Taiken Moin no Horikaw

Nagakaran
Kokoro mo shirazu

Kurokami no
Midarete kesa wa

Is it forever
That he hopes our love will last?
He did not answer.
And now my daylight thoughts
Are as tangled as my black hair.

- Lady Horikawa

Destination - Apu's Biye

Post dedicated to Sweden.

1:30 mins left till we start our journey to the airport.

We managed to have 2 very small fights already, first one Ammu vs. Adiba and second one (of course) Ammu vs. me, I think all of us are pretty stressed infor the wedding. Anyway I believe that when you start something with fights/hassels and the feeling of hopelessness (does that word even exist?) , that's when things end very well. So this trip will be awesome! (though at the moment I don't feel like leaving my comfort zone; my room and the white snow)

So farewell my beautiful white Sweden, hope you remain white and cold untill I'm back.

Is there hope?

Every year I make an attempt to do a comeback, and every year I fail miserably. I'm ashamed of how many times I've complained about my writer's block, which has been on and off since 2005. So I ask myself now, is it even worth keeping this blog knowing that I'll never write?

Well I'm not planning on shutting it down either, but I need to take on serious measures to keep this blog up to date. And the only solution I see; is to write nonsense! (not that I ever wrote 'sense')

So bare with me and my nonsense, I might write the most stupid-'est' blog ever but that's just to overcome my writer's block.

When life takes a U-turn...

-"Future is fear when it's unknown. But joy when it's clear."

All of a sudden life has taken an unexpected U-turn.

Let me explain things in more details without going into the actual details. You always somehow have a hunch of what's coming next, it's as normal as the feeling of hunger. But this time in my life, I was all taken in aback.

I am for the first time in life wanting/sensing for things that I've always known is not appropriate for me. But now the inappropriate things that have turned up in my life seems more appropriate than the things that were appropriate to start with. (I know, I've lost you guys.. )

Even though I sit with fear of not knowing where life will take me, I still can't let it go... As I know in my heart that IF THIS works out, it'll be THE BEST thing ever happened to me!

Though I am scared like anything... Does it make any sense?

Jodi abar choto hote partam.

Ek moha "giyani" bondhur blog pore amar banglai blog lekhar agroho jaglo, tabe jani je banglai lekhe beshi shubidha korte parbo na. Prothomoto bangla font diye lekhte gele, protita shabdher banan bhul hoto. Jemon amar chotobelar German class'er essay-sheet guli, jekhane protita bakorochonai minimum 10 bhager 9 bhag bhul. Madam'er lal kolomer dage bhore jeto phuler baganer moto, nischoi ei blog'er obosta eki hoto takhon. Ditioto amar bangla lekha ar ek class 2'r chatrir bangla lekha eki ba amarche onek bhalo, karon amar bangla vocabulary onektai choto ar grammer'r kotha toh proshnoi uthe na. Tabe taw ami banglai blog lekhar cheshta korbo.

Kichu din dhore keno jani chotobelar kotha khub mone pore, oboshor shomoi mon tane puran chotobelar albumer dike. Boshe boshe shobar chobi dekhi ar bhabi, emoni ki chilo amar chotobela? Shobai koto hashi kushi chilam, mile mishe thaktam amra, ekhon koi gelo ei shob manush? Oneke ei duniya chere chole gechen, ba onno deshe boshobash koren ba ekhane thekeo dekha hoi na. Boro kaalta kemon jani nishthur ar gombhir. Monehoi je shei chotokaale fire jai ar shobai ke joriye dhore boli, tomra emoni thako boro howar kono dorkar nei.

Kintu abar mone pore je she chotokaaler ami ek kaale khub agroho niye boro howar cheshta kortam. Boshe boshe ammuder golpo shuntam, majhe majhe lukhiyeo shona hoto. Ba Apu ar or bandhobider pichon pichon ghurtam, oder shathe khelte iche hoto ba oder golpo shunte chaiytam kintu amake newa hoto na karon ami oder jonno beshi choto chilam. Ami eka eka boshe thaktam TV-roome ar bhabtam, kakhon je boro hobo? Apuder shathe khelbo kobe? Nijer boyeshi manush ashe-pashe khub kom chilo, ar jeguli chilo prai shob guli chilo chele. Era ek shomoi giye ar amar shathe khelte chaito na. Ar jakhoni amar boyeshi meyera ashto, oder ke ami bestfriend baniye chartam, kintu keno jani tikto na. Tabe ekhono tike na, tai bole meyeder shathe bondhuto korar asha chere diyechi puropuri.

Toh ajke keno jani Apur 8 bochor jonmodiner video dekhte iche holo. Video cholar muhurte buk jore dhob dhob kora shuru korlo, puron shob manushderke dekhe ekrokom maya jege utlo oder poti. Shei chotobelar Apuke dekhe chokhe chole ashlo pani, ei shei Apu jar kichu din por biye. Jar shathe protidin joghra, maramari kortam, shei Apur biye ek bochor por. Bhabtei kemon jani lage. Khushi te hashbo naki mon udash kore thakbo, bhabna guli apatoto shob elomelo. Bodhoi Apur biyer kotha shune chotobelar kotha mone porlo, ki jani...

Tabe jani je din bodliye ashche, prithibi ar manushderke onno drishtite dekha shuru korte hobe. Ager moto bhola mon niye shopno dekhte parbo na, ek dirgho ar kothin shomoi shamne chole esheche.

In need of a tiny person!

I recall the times I used to generally write with an enthusiasm, pretty much write about everything and anything. I felt that I had to share my views and thoughts, even day to day happenings with everyone without hesitating. It almost felt like dancing Swanlake but in this case my fingers were the legs and the keyboard was the stage.

Even writing this bit, I'm feeling anxious and uncomfortable. Is this what you call a writers block?

There are times when my head is filled with thoughts and discussions. Believe it or not, some of them are quite smart ones, perfect for my blog, so I always end up thinking; "Aah, I should blog about this when I get home or when I sit infront of the pc!" But as soon as I sit to write, my brain freezes! I wish there was a tinny person living in my head and would blog my thoughts for me instantly so I wouldn't have to sit here and type.

As old as you decide to be

[Response from a senior friend of mine from Facebook]

It's time for that scream

One of my younger friends, Shakia, is about to turn 23. That old already! Oh, no! Wait... didn't I go past that age about 23 years back? May be I did, too. And, she feels old. Too old to miss the carefree old Shakia who ran around with kids and had ice-creams. Ah! She even misses being 5.

Shakia, dear, I am there with you. I miss being 5, too. And, I don't miss being 23 at all. I still miss running on the wall (yes, on the wall, mad me so feel like Spiderman), ice-creams (they didn't have Baskin Robins or Move'nPick back then, but they indeed had ice-creams), tennis balls (we turned them into soccer balls, and played in the living-room), and the trekks down to the playing field (it seemed so away from home). I miss it all.

That's partly why I get down to the floor whenever I can, and play with children. I don't pick them up to carry them on my shoulders, as I don't want to feel bigger and older than them. I still love those spinning tops and marbles (and, no, I'm not an expert... I still handle those like a 5-year old).

I would always be 5, if I can, as much I can. I'll fight with kids, I'll be jealous of them, I'll have respect for kids who are better than me (and, most usually are). There's only one slight problem. Not many people recognize that. The gray in my hair and the dulled out eyes, the wrinkles around the corner of the eye and the creaks in my bones tell them simply I can't be anything but old. Well, I refuse to be.

Then comes the tough part. When I fail to meet the expectations that come with my age, some of them go and hate me, some go scared, and some more laugh their heads off at me silly. They can't help taking me seriously.

Do I care? Yes, I do. And, that's why I miss being 5 so much.

Thanks, Shakia, for reminding me who I am - a little kid caged in a aging crumbling rotting body. Pray for that kid in me, and the kid in you, too. I am happy to have recognized that kid in you, even before we decided to talk to me. Happy birthday, kiddo, 30 days in advance.

- Aditya Kabir

I'll never go shopping again!

Once or twice a year I tend to reorganize my wardrobe, as I am sloppy and hate to fold clothes I end up with this huge dump. And while searching for a certain garment I have to dig like crazy, often I'd end up with something else. Now fashion is one of the things I want to least spend my time and money on, but it seems to have become my shameful weakness, need to admit my feminine sides.

So it took me about 2 days to get my wardrobe back to a civilized state, though I took very long breaks inbetween. Sometimes because of pure laziness other times because of frustration. Ended up sighing, yelling and cursing myself badly. "WHAT WAS I THINKING WHILE BUYING ALL THESE?!" Wishing that some thief would come in and just empty up my wardrobe or that I'd give it all away to charity.

To top that I have my sub continental dresses too! It's not enough that I need to have trousers, tops, dresses, skirts, winter clothes then summer clothes... But to add selwar kamiz and sari and not just one or two pairs. But one in each colour, fabric and designs!!! Then matching shoes and bags... AAAAA... It never ends!!!

I seriously wish I was born into a guy, specially time like these! Do you guys end up with these kinds of issues? No! It wouldn't even matter if you had ripped jeans and a greasy t-shirt which you wash once a month! Ah... If life was that simple!

Now I am pretty content with the amount of garments I own, so I've decided that I wont buy/ask for more. I will try to live happily with the amount for the next 2-3 decades!
And Apu if you are reading this, just so you know the only useful thing has happened since you moved to Australia, I've got more closet space! Your room is the offical dumping place. Thank you!

The life of Shakia Khan

There is exactly one month left for my birthday so I've thought it be fun to dedicate these 31 days of writing to myself as a tribute for the 23 years I've lived.

Somehow it feels like my life will take a drastic turn the coming years. The carefree, childish me who enjoys running around with kids and eating ice cream, will have to face adulthood. Sitting still at one corner, have a decent civilized conversation about the worries of a 23 year old girl should have. (Thinking about this makes me feel 5 year old again)

I'd stop time if I could, but as that is impossible I have to be satisfied with my writing. Probably in future I'll read these posts and remind myself of the young me.

So be ready, these 31 days are only about me!