I have gone into a little introspective mode these days. So the few posts from hereon, that appear profoundly philosophical to me might actually show you how much drab and crap a bored soul can actually produce. Well, disclaimer done! So here I go: I must give you a little background behind this thought. The first time I had thought about this was when I was in Class 5 or 6 I think. It was someone's marriage or some occasion of a get-together... and like all other kids, I was generally running around with the others. After some time, seeing us unruly kids around, someone asked us to carry baskets of fruits, brass utensils, etc. --- in general things that were going to be needed for the puja , from the house to the place where the ceremony was being held ( mandap , if you know what I mean). When we reached there, we came across this aunty who was perennially angry with the world. The only way she could speak was by shouting, and always seemed flared up over the slightest excuse. Any
The chronicles of Sudipta:
the man, the machine, and everything inbetween