Skip to main content

Stations

I cry for my lost loves
For career
For principles
I left them behind
Cities
People
Friends
Lovers
All memories
Fading slowly
Until they are only a shadow
That looms large
At the brightest hours
But you're too busy to notice
That you left a part of you behind
That you lose yourself every time you go
Only to find a new you

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Here

  A new friend recently said, “when people who have lived abroad say ‘here’, they mean India, but when I say it, I mean Ahmedabad vs Mumbai. In that moment it seemed like the usual random nonsense someone high on Diwali vacation vibes + weed might say. But as I think more closely, there is a grain of wisdom hiding behind the benignity. Our outlook is defined by the exposure we have gotten, either gathered through travel, movies, discussions, upbringing or simply by living among people whose world view is different from our own. When I decided to move back, I was prepared for the physical differences of living in India vs Europe, I knew it would be hot, crowded and loud, people would be unpunctual, and that would get on my nerves. I think I was partially unprepared for how difficult it would be fit in emotionally . Before I left, I did often feel like a misfit or a rebel, sometimes being Bengali in a pretty Marathi city, but largely due to my experiences at a rigid and unwelcomin...

Watermelon Cold Brew

 I’m a lover of classic coffee. As a millennial, I cling to the quintessential South Indian filter coffee and scoff at that new fangled, pretentious, cinnamon flavoured 'Tired Bird’ dip bag coffee-like products. So, when I found this great cafe close-ish to home that does a good flat white, I quickly settled into a weekend routine, popping by there for a weekend post workout treat. It comforted me to have a favourite cafe again, after having lost Black Coffee Pharmacy in Bonn ( to the hippies ), and then Kaffeesaurus & Treibgut because I moved. The cafe has a large outdoor space, so once the oppressive heat gave way to only mild sweating and discomfort, they decided to organise a handicrafts festival in the backyard. I headed there and impulse bought some earrings and stickers, before my resolve to ‘support the arts’ gave way to grumpiness at the humidity. I found the kitchen and asked the guy manning it to make me a non-sweet, refreshing drink. It was 8 pm, so I was expecting ...

From a Caterpillar to a Butterfly

I read a grandma’s blog today- that’s right- a grandma’s BLOG! It all started with a project at work- I needed some information, and google only gave me a 1 line definition. Then I came across this blog by “Ugich Konitari”. Even through an impersonal portal like a blog- a Grandma’s serenity came through. Her wealth of knowledge wasn’t sitting locked up at home. It was a lovely post, with pictures and all. She had 179 followers! That’s 35 times that follow my blog!! But after reading it, I started envying the grandkid that, in my head, helped her create it. In retrospect, it’s possible that she that even made it herself. Either way, it made me miss my Grandma. She passed away a couple of years ago. When I was 10, she was diagnosed with cancer. She was already 80 then, and the doctors gave her about 2 years more. I think I was lucky to have overheard this shocking news. Then on, I was so afraid of losing her, that I cherished every moment I had with her. Every year my family spent...