Pujo

The smell, the sounds,the lights, the loudspeakers,the anticipation, the crowded streets, the honking, the fleeting glances, the crispy feeling of new clothes, the roadside oily egg rolls, the adrenaline pumping rides, the dudes, dolled up women wearing evrything in pink,the lost purses, the reappearing of known faces and of course dhak, pujor bhog ar pushpanjoli.. pujo conjures up to all this and more for me.And certainly it gives me the desire to hope through another year.

Of Men and Marksheets

I have been perpetually unlucky with marksheets and men. I hate the uncanny resemblance that these two objects share as far as i am concerned. Neither of them has ever turned out the way i wanted them to. Both of them have seemed to be highly illusive.The best part is both of them have made me cry a million times over for their ill-presence in my life. I would have literally begged borrowed and stolen to maketh them a litte more in my favour.
So i willfully conclude that men will be men and marksheets will be marksheets. And I can do perfectly nothing about them.

P.S - Once upon a time a friend of mine quotably quoted always pretend that a million men are falling for you evn when they r not. But alas i shall maketh a poor actress ..

phew!!

i had to slog my butts off for an hour with my superfast connectivity to get my new blog going . i am trying my hands at blogging yet another time.lets c how long i can hold my interest in it..