Like most, I am also required to work for an average of eight hours daily. The regulations are not so strict and schedule is more relaxed. Also anyway, the workload requires one to be at work for a longer time more than often. However, I still like to come at around certain time and leave after around finishing eight hours. Of course, there are days when I leave quite early or stay hours later, but in general, I have this ‘schedule’. I generally prefer to come early, around 7-7.30, and leave sometime around 3-4 in the afternoon. I like to have most of my afternoon free and for myself to walk around, do necessary errands, relax, read a book, cook, work on my hobbies and so on..
But sometimes, like yesterday, I get hugely late and then the day seems so long. Yesterday, I was very lazy in the morning and came to work only at around 9. And because now I am in the process of writing a manuscript and finding it very boring to do so; I said to myself ‘I am going to stay till 5 at least and work’. I have less concentration in it as I find analyzing all my result and writing a manuscript, preparing pictures, graphs, tables etc annoying; therefore, if I do not force myself I would not be able to meet the deadline. Thus, there was this self-imposed rule of not leaving before 5 at least.
I started with work. Several printed sheets with graphs, notes, results were all around on my desk. However, the arrangement was much more than the work that was actually happening. I was so out of concentration, restless and hugely bored. To refresh myself I read the newspapers online. Then started again. The situation was still the same.
The clock showed it to be 11. On other days, I feel satisfied in working and do not notice how almost half of the day is gone. Yesterday each minute seemed like hours. But then it was not just yesterday. Most of the time when I am late, I have this feeling.
Somehow, when I notice that half of the day is gone, and realize that I was already working for quite some time, it gives a sense of satisfaction. I feel that I was being useful. I finished around half of the work I had planned to do that day. And then soon after I finish the rest I would be able to leave. Having most of the afternoon for myself, I then look forward to it. Concentrating back into work is easy. Soon I finish my work and realize that time has passed by without me noticing it. I enjoy the work then, feel satisfied about it, it gives some sense of positivity and happiness. I have earned myself the free afternoon, this is what I feel. There is no streak of guilt associated with it. On these days, 8 hours do not seem like 8 hours.
And, when I am late, everything change. At 11, I am still left with almost the whole of that day’s work. Realizing that almost half day gone without me doing much work because of being lazy in the morning without reason, I feel bad. Moreover, this also reminds me that to finish the work I need to stay longer and thus reducing my afternoon time. It annoys me. More so, as I know it was my fault in the very beginning. I look at the clock every five minutes and think it is moving so very slowly. Then I start getting bored, working slower and slower. This makes me more annoyed. And the whole thing just increases in a cycle, ultimately resulting in little productivity. Finally, unless I really have the need to finish something or too much workload, I just leave. However, I have this little guilt inside me saying I was lazy, and did not work with full concentration and productivity, and worse maybe if I had left it unfinished.
And the next day, when I am doing the same unfinished work and not getting bored or annoyed, I realize it is not about the work or the eight hours. If I start early and as planned, all goes good. The clock ticks on its own pace and in the end, I am leaving work satisfied and happy. If I am late, the clock stops moving. Minutes are like hours then, and hours are like forever. The eight hours become ‘nothing’ or ‘forever’ depending on when and how I start.
Bottom line, I should not be lazy in the morning to finish work smiling and satisfied.
November 25, 2010
November 15, 2010
Learning Slovene
It is after work, and I am waiting to head to the Slovenian language class. And then I decided to write about.. hmm… learning Slovenian language.
I truly admire those with a passion, interest and ability of learning languages. I have none. I enjoy and admire the beauty of a language, and play of words. But this enjoyment is limited to Bengali, my mother tongue; and English, which I had learnt when I was so young that I did not really feel the process of learning it. I admit that my pen is not most beautiful and flawless as I write in these languages, but I can read, write and talk in them fluently. And above all, I have knowledge enough to enjoy their beauty. Bengali to me is always the most beautiful, poetic and sweet sounding language. I am maybe biased to it, and rightly so. English is more international and allows me to enjoy great and interesting works. Besides these two, the only other language I sort of know is Hindi. Thanks to Indian television and Bollywood movies, I can speak and understand it completely.
And oh.. I can say that I know Slovene now.. well just a little bit, a very tiny little bit.
When I was in the 6th standard in school, we had to take up a third language. And the only option was taking Sanskrit. I was not very happy with the idea of it. Though the rich world of Indian scripts, mythologies, epics, religious texts is explored in Sanskrit; to me it was still a dead language without much of practical use. And with all my love for reading, I could not imagine myself reading much of Sanskrit texts in future. But anyway I had to take it. Learning the Devnagari script was easy. And then it started with easy words etc. But as it came to grammar, with learning to write even simple sentences my annoyance grew. People said that the grammar is like math, simple logic. But to me it was most incoherent and without any logic. As I struggled with the language, I was every time wondering how people could talk in a language as complicated as Sanskrit. I heard that having an understanding of this language will make learning some European languages easier. I never believed it. Who on the earth talk and think like that? In which modern language can there be complications like seven declinations, duals, genders, complex rules for verbs and sentence structures? There can be none. And I was relieved as two years of this Sanskrit phase got over. Little did I know that I will again land in the mess of these complex rules!!
I was wondering where on earth people speak in a complicated language similar to Sanskrit. And now I know. There can be many places, but Slovenia is definitely one of them. When I came to Slovenia as a researcher, I made sure that all communications in the lab and related to academics will be in English. Otherwise I would not have come in the first place. And though most people speak English, Slovene is the official language. Therefore, all official documents are mostly in Slovene. And as I have plans to live here, I would not be able to escape without learning the language. It is must to be independent in the country. And also who likes to look at the bill boards or listen to a conversation and not know what is up. So, I joined the afternoon courses at the faculty, and there started my struggle.
The vocabulary is not an issue, I learn that slowly and know that I will build it up over time. But the grammar, it is terrible. Six declination, duals and genders play with the ending of words and verbs. To top it all it was full of strange complex rules and even exceptions! Nothing made much sense. I could not find any logic. Okay, I can learn that to change into accusative case, I have to change the ending of singular female words from ‘a’ to ‘o’; but singular male and neuter words will undergo no change. Easy huh! But wait, if the word is for a living male (man, animals etc), I have to add an ‘a’ at the end. I mean why to be partial about living males?? And this is just only for singular, and then there are duals and plurals. Ah!
The pronouns are funny with all the ‘n’, ‘j’, ‘i’, ‘u’ in them making them hard to pronounce and remember. The language drives me crazy with the different endings for neuter words, but then, along with ‘him’ and ‘her’, there is no ‘it’! ‘I like to watch television and I watch him every evening’. Calling a television ‘him’ is just crazy!!
Just in the last class we were doing possessive pronouns and how to change endings of words to get their possessive forms. For male words, one add ‘ov(a)’ in the end. But wait, if the word ends with ‘j’ (or also ‘c’, ‘č’, ‘š’, ‘ž’), the ending will be ‘ev(a)’. Rule two, if it ends with ‘r’, add ‘j’ and with this now new ending, add ‘ev(a)’. Rule three, if the last but one alphabet is ‘e’, eliminate it. These are a few of the many rules. Okay, you learn the rules and it is easy. But hey wait a minute. What about if we wish to make the possessive form of the name ‘Peter’? Well, it ends with ‘r’, so according to rule add a ‘j’ and then a ‘ev(a)’; and because there is an ‘e’ just before the ending , remove it. So, ‘Petrjev(a)’ right? Wrong. It will be ‘Petrov(a)’!! When you remove the ‘e’, even if it is ending with ‘r’, do not add the ‘j’ and thus the ending becomes ‘ov(a)’. Now why will I not claim it to be a crazy complex language?
Well, I must not just complain that it is hard. It is also my fault why I am so slow in learning it. Learning a new language calls for using it as much as possible; and I use it as little as possible. Well, no, it is not just my reluctance or negligence. Being a talkative girl, I am supposed to have no problem in trying to talk in a new language. But I do. I am introvert and shy enough to not just talk with anyone, more so in a language that I barely know. I do not yet have the confidence and I am afraid of being wrong. With people in front of whom I am not afraid or shy, it takes so long to structure a sentence that I rather say it in English. Being talkative is thus a disadvantage in my situation because trying to speak in Slovene reduces the speed so badly that the flow and interest is lost. But well, I do try to talk. I try to say sentences in Slovene in shops. Also I try and use it with Blaž’s grandma. And every time I am able to say something or understand her sentences, the way she exclaims about ‘how much’ I know makes me smile and feel encouraged.
This time I am doing the intermediate level course and I feel glad when I see I already know a bit. The first two levels felt complete mess. I was then unable to understand anything. This time it is more comprehensive and makes sense. Well, not that it makes a complete sense; I still get lost in all the crazy ‘rules’ and numerous ‘exceptions’; but there is still some sense in it. I can understand and make simple conversations. I am not completely blank when two people are talking. And that is definitely an improvement. Especially when the student is me. And for the technical part of the knowledge, the short test I have this week will show my knowledge..
I remember when I was little I used to dream about learning as many languages as possible when I grow up. An idea that formed up as a result of my love for books. I thought, reading books in their original language would be such great! But now, I dare not think of this idea. And thanks to the good quality translations available, I can satisfy my urge of reading. Those thoughts of learning different languages do not even come in my wildest fantasies now. If I manage to learn Slovene properly, that will be enough an achievement.
Languages for me are hard nuts to crack. And I am struggling with one of the hardest ones..
I truly admire those with a passion, interest and ability of learning languages. I have none. I enjoy and admire the beauty of a language, and play of words. But this enjoyment is limited to Bengali, my mother tongue; and English, which I had learnt when I was so young that I did not really feel the process of learning it. I admit that my pen is not most beautiful and flawless as I write in these languages, but I can read, write and talk in them fluently. And above all, I have knowledge enough to enjoy their beauty. Bengali to me is always the most beautiful, poetic and sweet sounding language. I am maybe biased to it, and rightly so. English is more international and allows me to enjoy great and interesting works. Besides these two, the only other language I sort of know is Hindi. Thanks to Indian television and Bollywood movies, I can speak and understand it completely.
And oh.. I can say that I know Slovene now.. well just a little bit, a very tiny little bit.
When I was in the 6th standard in school, we had to take up a third language. And the only option was taking Sanskrit. I was not very happy with the idea of it. Though the rich world of Indian scripts, mythologies, epics, religious texts is explored in Sanskrit; to me it was still a dead language without much of practical use. And with all my love for reading, I could not imagine myself reading much of Sanskrit texts in future. But anyway I had to take it. Learning the Devnagari script was easy. And then it started with easy words etc. But as it came to grammar, with learning to write even simple sentences my annoyance grew. People said that the grammar is like math, simple logic. But to me it was most incoherent and without any logic. As I struggled with the language, I was every time wondering how people could talk in a language as complicated as Sanskrit. I heard that having an understanding of this language will make learning some European languages easier. I never believed it. Who on the earth talk and think like that? In which modern language can there be complications like seven declinations, duals, genders, complex rules for verbs and sentence structures? There can be none. And I was relieved as two years of this Sanskrit phase got over. Little did I know that I will again land in the mess of these complex rules!!
I was wondering where on earth people speak in a complicated language similar to Sanskrit. And now I know. There can be many places, but Slovenia is definitely one of them. When I came to Slovenia as a researcher, I made sure that all communications in the lab and related to academics will be in English. Otherwise I would not have come in the first place. And though most people speak English, Slovene is the official language. Therefore, all official documents are mostly in Slovene. And as I have plans to live here, I would not be able to escape without learning the language. It is must to be independent in the country. And also who likes to look at the bill boards or listen to a conversation and not know what is up. So, I joined the afternoon courses at the faculty, and there started my struggle.
The vocabulary is not an issue, I learn that slowly and know that I will build it up over time. But the grammar, it is terrible. Six declination, duals and genders play with the ending of words and verbs. To top it all it was full of strange complex rules and even exceptions! Nothing made much sense. I could not find any logic. Okay, I can learn that to change into accusative case, I have to change the ending of singular female words from ‘a’ to ‘o’; but singular male and neuter words will undergo no change. Easy huh! But wait, if the word is for a living male (man, animals etc), I have to add an ‘a’ at the end. I mean why to be partial about living males?? And this is just only for singular, and then there are duals and plurals. Ah!
The pronouns are funny with all the ‘n’, ‘j’, ‘i’, ‘u’ in them making them hard to pronounce and remember. The language drives me crazy with the different endings for neuter words, but then, along with ‘him’ and ‘her’, there is no ‘it’! ‘I like to watch television and I watch him every evening’. Calling a television ‘him’ is just crazy!!
Just in the last class we were doing possessive pronouns and how to change endings of words to get their possessive forms. For male words, one add ‘ov(a)’ in the end. But wait, if the word ends with ‘j’ (or also ‘c’, ‘č’, ‘š’, ‘ž’), the ending will be ‘ev(a)’. Rule two, if it ends with ‘r’, add ‘j’ and with this now new ending, add ‘ev(a)’. Rule three, if the last but one alphabet is ‘e’, eliminate it. These are a few of the many rules. Okay, you learn the rules and it is easy. But hey wait a minute. What about if we wish to make the possessive form of the name ‘Peter’? Well, it ends with ‘r’, so according to rule add a ‘j’ and then a ‘ev(a)’; and because there is an ‘e’ just before the ending , remove it. So, ‘Petrjev(a)’ right? Wrong. It will be ‘Petrov(a)’!! When you remove the ‘e’, even if it is ending with ‘r’, do not add the ‘j’ and thus the ending becomes ‘ov(a)’. Now why will I not claim it to be a crazy complex language?
Well, I must not just complain that it is hard. It is also my fault why I am so slow in learning it. Learning a new language calls for using it as much as possible; and I use it as little as possible. Well, no, it is not just my reluctance or negligence. Being a talkative girl, I am supposed to have no problem in trying to talk in a new language. But I do. I am introvert and shy enough to not just talk with anyone, more so in a language that I barely know. I do not yet have the confidence and I am afraid of being wrong. With people in front of whom I am not afraid or shy, it takes so long to structure a sentence that I rather say it in English. Being talkative is thus a disadvantage in my situation because trying to speak in Slovene reduces the speed so badly that the flow and interest is lost. But well, I do try to talk. I try to say sentences in Slovene in shops. Also I try and use it with Blaž’s grandma. And every time I am able to say something or understand her sentences, the way she exclaims about ‘how much’ I know makes me smile and feel encouraged.
This time I am doing the intermediate level course and I feel glad when I see I already know a bit. The first two levels felt complete mess. I was then unable to understand anything. This time it is more comprehensive and makes sense. Well, not that it makes a complete sense; I still get lost in all the crazy ‘rules’ and numerous ‘exceptions’; but there is still some sense in it. I can understand and make simple conversations. I am not completely blank when two people are talking. And that is definitely an improvement. Especially when the student is me. And for the technical part of the knowledge, the short test I have this week will show my knowledge..
I remember when I was little I used to dream about learning as many languages as possible when I grow up. An idea that formed up as a result of my love for books. I thought, reading books in their original language would be such great! But now, I dare not think of this idea. And thanks to the good quality translations available, I can satisfy my urge of reading. Those thoughts of learning different languages do not even come in my wildest fantasies now. If I manage to learn Slovene properly, that will be enough an achievement.
Languages for me are hard nuts to crack. And I am struggling with one of the hardest ones..
November 14, 2010
Just another autumn day
It was a very beautiful day outside my window and I decided to go out for a bit longer lunch. The sun shone after days of cloudy sky. Everything was bright and cheerful. A perfect day it was for walking to the city center, enjoying a leisurely lunch and then coming back to work again. It was not that I had any less work, but I just decided to treat myself and enjoy the day.
As I wrapped the autumn coat around me and stepped out, the cold refreshing wind touched me. It was a play of colors all around. Everything looked fresh, crisp and smiling. The trees were bright with their display of few remaining golden leaves. And there was beauty in their barren look. On one of these trees, there was just a single yellow leaf still clinging to the branch and fluttering in the wind. And with it, there was beauty, there was life.
I walked on the soft carpet of dry brown leaves. They murmured with music as I made each step. And then, with the gust of wind, they danced in a whirlpool. Along with the wind the leaves ran over the asphalt road and paved sidewalks. Creating music as they ran. A continuous murmuring sound it made, like a heavy rain on the roof. Dry leaves were falling all around me like little bright dots. One got caught in the mess of my hair.
The big willow trees in the park were dropping down to the little Gradaščiča stream. It was a magnificent display of bright yellow and fading green against the bright sky and green grass. Trnovo church was visible there behind. People were taking walks by the river, mothers with their babies in prams, a grandmother walking slowly with her little bag, a few young people sitting down on the bench and reading a book. Everyone was enjoying beautiful nature.
I turned towards the city. Trees in different shades of reds and oranges lined the roads. The bright sunlight seeped through these colors illuminating everything with this reddish golden hue. It was a mesmerizing play of lights and colors. Below the trees, sun created patterns. The houses looked brighter with the red creeper decorating their walls. Everything was set in the fiery hue. I crossed under the old Roman wall; feeling tempted to seat on its grass and read a book. I was close to the faculties now.
By the faculties, students were busy with their classes. They were talking in groups, hurrying to their class, or going for lunch. I walked on and reached the little park. It was covered with a blanket of pale yellow. Pretty leaves were fluttering in the breeze. I stooped down to pick a few. And walked on to the city center.
What I always love about the Ljubljana city center is that it is always buzzing, cheerful and yet has some relaxed flavor. The Prešeren square by the three bridges is always a happy place to be. Especially so if it is a sunny day. It is always full of people and music. It is colorful and refreshing. Young people in groups, busy office goers, grandmas walking slowly, couples strolling, mothers walking with their babies, someone on a walk with his dog, a girl on a bicycle passes by, people sitting in the sun enjoying coffee, someone is playing on his guitar, a homeless sits in the corner, people eating slices of pizza or biting a burek sitting on the green benches, a tourist boat floats in the Lljubljanica river, and the castle shines brightly in the sun overlooking the city from the little hill as its flag unfurls in the breeze. It is always so colorful in this old part of the city. I stopped for a few minutes and let the liveliness around touch me.
I decided to try this little shop where I had heard there are excellent cheesecakes. It was a bit expensive one, but then I was in a mood of treating myself. I sat with the cheesecake on a table outside the shop. I watched people passing by as I indulged in the creamy taste of my cheesecake. I let myself free of all the thoughts and worries, and sitting there just watched the moving world around me. Sometimes it is great to cosset oneself and just unwind in the beauty of gazing at as a distant viewer.
As I passed the bookshop on my way back to work, I decided on making a quick visit. It was specially showcasing several culinary books. Therefore, I decided to check in if anything was interesting. Also I quickly browsed through the fiction and nonfiction sections. Spending some time browsing through books, and getting tempted to buy some, I finally decided to take my leave. The clock was ticking, and it was time to head back to work finally.
I made my way back on the same pretty roads; walking over the leafy carpet, I admired the colors. I wrapped the sun around me. I returned refreshed, my mind colorful and sunny.
As I wrapped the autumn coat around me and stepped out, the cold refreshing wind touched me. It was a play of colors all around. Everything looked fresh, crisp and smiling. The trees were bright with their display of few remaining golden leaves. And there was beauty in their barren look. On one of these trees, there was just a single yellow leaf still clinging to the branch and fluttering in the wind. And with it, there was beauty, there was life.
I walked on the soft carpet of dry brown leaves. They murmured with music as I made each step. And then, with the gust of wind, they danced in a whirlpool. Along with the wind the leaves ran over the asphalt road and paved sidewalks. Creating music as they ran. A continuous murmuring sound it made, like a heavy rain on the roof. Dry leaves were falling all around me like little bright dots. One got caught in the mess of my hair.
The big willow trees in the park were dropping down to the little Gradaščiča stream. It was a magnificent display of bright yellow and fading green against the bright sky and green grass. Trnovo church was visible there behind. People were taking walks by the river, mothers with their babies in prams, a grandmother walking slowly with her little bag, a few young people sitting down on the bench and reading a book. Everyone was enjoying beautiful nature.
I turned towards the city. Trees in different shades of reds and oranges lined the roads. The bright sunlight seeped through these colors illuminating everything with this reddish golden hue. It was a mesmerizing play of lights and colors. Below the trees, sun created patterns. The houses looked brighter with the red creeper decorating their walls. Everything was set in the fiery hue. I crossed under the old Roman wall; feeling tempted to seat on its grass and read a book. I was close to the faculties now.
By the faculties, students were busy with their classes. They were talking in groups, hurrying to their class, or going for lunch. I walked on and reached the little park. It was covered with a blanket of pale yellow. Pretty leaves were fluttering in the breeze. I stooped down to pick a few. And walked on to the city center.
What I always love about the Ljubljana city center is that it is always buzzing, cheerful and yet has some relaxed flavor. The Prešeren square by the three bridges is always a happy place to be. Especially so if it is a sunny day. It is always full of people and music. It is colorful and refreshing. Young people in groups, busy office goers, grandmas walking slowly, couples strolling, mothers walking with their babies, someone on a walk with his dog, a girl on a bicycle passes by, people sitting in the sun enjoying coffee, someone is playing on his guitar, a homeless sits in the corner, people eating slices of pizza or biting a burek sitting on the green benches, a tourist boat floats in the Lljubljanica river, and the castle shines brightly in the sun overlooking the city from the little hill as its flag unfurls in the breeze. It is always so colorful in this old part of the city. I stopped for a few minutes and let the liveliness around touch me.
I decided to try this little shop where I had heard there are excellent cheesecakes. It was a bit expensive one, but then I was in a mood of treating myself. I sat with the cheesecake on a table outside the shop. I watched people passing by as I indulged in the creamy taste of my cheesecake. I let myself free of all the thoughts and worries, and sitting there just watched the moving world around me. Sometimes it is great to cosset oneself and just unwind in the beauty of gazing at as a distant viewer.
As I passed the bookshop on my way back to work, I decided on making a quick visit. It was specially showcasing several culinary books. Therefore, I decided to check in if anything was interesting. Also I quickly browsed through the fiction and nonfiction sections. Spending some time browsing through books, and getting tempted to buy some, I finally decided to take my leave. The clock was ticking, and it was time to head back to work finally.
I made my way back on the same pretty roads; walking over the leafy carpet, I admired the colors. I wrapped the sun around me. I returned refreshed, my mind colorful and sunny.
My celebration
The past month was the month of biggest Indian festivals. Having grown up amidst this cheerful festivity, during this month, my heart runs back to Kolkata. And in some unexplainable way, festivity touches me even though I sit here kilometers apart from all the lights and crowd. I wonder, what is festival and festivity? What is celebration?
The four years I was in Pune for my studies, I missed the Kolkata Durgapuja. The first two years I visited the local Durgapujas in Pune along with my other Bengali friends. However, it was not the same. It was not the same place. There was no crazy and euphoric crowd, no grand displays of lights and pandal decorations. No street food. No planning the exclusive lunches and dinner for family. No family, friends and relatives. No new pujabarshiki. Kolkata Durgapuja is the one and only of its kind. Nothing can be compared with its exhilarating ambiance. Being in Kolkata for Durgapuja is a lifetime experience and nothing can substitute that. Yes, I did miss all of these in Pune, but I never missed the festivity. I celebrated. And I was happy.
In those years, I would go back home during Diwali, when the whole city is yet again lit up with lights. As sun would set, we would decorate the house with little lamps and candles; and wait for the moonless night when beautiful firecrackers will light up the sky. The classic mutton preparation would be on the menu. The day would end with a late night walk to the various nearby puja pandals and through the fair. But then again, now along with the festivity of Durgapuja, I had left behind the lights and crackers of Diwali as I came here to Slovenia. And yet somehow the festive mood came along with me.
In the later years in Pune, instead of going to the local puja pandals, I started celebrating in my own way. I celebrated in taking time just for myself and in doing things I love. It did not matter if I did anything special. As I did things I love (however mundane or commonplace those things are), I made my day special. I would maybe wear a new dress, or the dress that made me feel good. I would cook something special and enjoy in it. I would go out for a lonely walk. I would snuggle with a book. I would look out at the sky. I would indulge in the pleasure of simply doing nothing at all. And I would make sure to do all these things along with the demand of regular work. My day would be special. Doing things that give me happiness and pleasure made it special. It was festive because I celebrated being myself. I celebrated in little things around me that make my world.
The celebration still continues in the same way. When the Durgapuja came this year, it brought with it the festivity. My heart was fluttering and happy. I celebrated being with Blaž each day after work, talking and doing nothing. I cooked special dinners. I made the classic rasogolla for the first time. For the most important day, Blaž made it special by cooking my favorite chicken. I dressed myself up, and everyone at work knew I am celebrating something. The last two days required me to be in Belgium for work. I was alone there amidst strangers. And then I went to the zoo to watch the lovely cute penguins. Looking at them for hours, I smiled. I felt my day is special. I celebrated Durgapuja doing and experiencing things for the first time. I celebrated as all these little special things touched my heart with happiness. Festivity was all around me even when I was away from the crowd and lights.
Diwali came with a very beautiful sunny day. My hand was decorated with the dark pattern of mehendi, and I could not stop myself from admiring it. I went out for lunch. It was a bright autumn day. As the sun touched me seeping through the colorful leaves, I was exuberant. I walked on carpets of dry leaves; and leaves danced in the wind. I satisfied myself with a yummy cheesecake. A quick trip to the bookstore made it perfect. Few hours in the afternoon was spent in cooking delicious Indian desserts. And then as it turned dark outside, I lit little candles. Arranging them in patterns, I switched the lights off. The gentle warm candlelights filled the dark room. And my heart was filled with warmth and happiness of the festival.
I celebrate in little things that do not exactly look like a celebration. I definitely do miss my family and the festivity in Kolkata. However, I never feel sad thinking the festivity could not touch me. As it does touch me, makes everything cheerful. I would of course love to be with people whom I love on these festive days, and do something together. Go out in the crowd. But when I am alone, I would rather be alone doing little things that can bring this little special feeling inside me than be in a crowd and yet be alone. It is then when I realize the true meaning of festival and celebration for me. It is being with family, friends, doing something together, something special, something that radiates happiness. The people, the crowd, the lights add to the enjoyment. But, ultimately it is not about these things. It is festival because I am with special people, doing something special. And it is celebration because I feel special. In the end, this festivity is something that is simply a part of me. Festivity and celebration is when my soul smiles.
The four years I was in Pune for my studies, I missed the Kolkata Durgapuja. The first two years I visited the local Durgapujas in Pune along with my other Bengali friends. However, it was not the same. It was not the same place. There was no crazy and euphoric crowd, no grand displays of lights and pandal decorations. No street food. No planning the exclusive lunches and dinner for family. No family, friends and relatives. No new pujabarshiki. Kolkata Durgapuja is the one and only of its kind. Nothing can be compared with its exhilarating ambiance. Being in Kolkata for Durgapuja is a lifetime experience and nothing can substitute that. Yes, I did miss all of these in Pune, but I never missed the festivity. I celebrated. And I was happy.
In those years, I would go back home during Diwali, when the whole city is yet again lit up with lights. As sun would set, we would decorate the house with little lamps and candles; and wait for the moonless night when beautiful firecrackers will light up the sky. The classic mutton preparation would be on the menu. The day would end with a late night walk to the various nearby puja pandals and through the fair. But then again, now along with the festivity of Durgapuja, I had left behind the lights and crackers of Diwali as I came here to Slovenia. And yet somehow the festive mood came along with me.
In the later years in Pune, instead of going to the local puja pandals, I started celebrating in my own way. I celebrated in taking time just for myself and in doing things I love. It did not matter if I did anything special. As I did things I love (however mundane or commonplace those things are), I made my day special. I would maybe wear a new dress, or the dress that made me feel good. I would cook something special and enjoy in it. I would go out for a lonely walk. I would snuggle with a book. I would look out at the sky. I would indulge in the pleasure of simply doing nothing at all. And I would make sure to do all these things along with the demand of regular work. My day would be special. Doing things that give me happiness and pleasure made it special. It was festive because I celebrated being myself. I celebrated in little things around me that make my world.
The celebration still continues in the same way. When the Durgapuja came this year, it brought with it the festivity. My heart was fluttering and happy. I celebrated being with Blaž each day after work, talking and doing nothing. I cooked special dinners. I made the classic rasogolla for the first time. For the most important day, Blaž made it special by cooking my favorite chicken. I dressed myself up, and everyone at work knew I am celebrating something. The last two days required me to be in Belgium for work. I was alone there amidst strangers. And then I went to the zoo to watch the lovely cute penguins. Looking at them for hours, I smiled. I felt my day is special. I celebrated Durgapuja doing and experiencing things for the first time. I celebrated as all these little special things touched my heart with happiness. Festivity was all around me even when I was away from the crowd and lights.
Diwali came with a very beautiful sunny day. My hand was decorated with the dark pattern of mehendi, and I could not stop myself from admiring it. I went out for lunch. It was a bright autumn day. As the sun touched me seeping through the colorful leaves, I was exuberant. I walked on carpets of dry leaves; and leaves danced in the wind. I satisfied myself with a yummy cheesecake. A quick trip to the bookstore made it perfect. Few hours in the afternoon was spent in cooking delicious Indian desserts. And then as it turned dark outside, I lit little candles. Arranging them in patterns, I switched the lights off. The gentle warm candlelights filled the dark room. And my heart was filled with warmth and happiness of the festival.
I celebrate in little things that do not exactly look like a celebration. I definitely do miss my family and the festivity in Kolkata. However, I never feel sad thinking the festivity could not touch me. As it does touch me, makes everything cheerful. I would of course love to be with people whom I love on these festive days, and do something together. Go out in the crowd. But when I am alone, I would rather be alone doing little things that can bring this little special feeling inside me than be in a crowd and yet be alone. It is then when I realize the true meaning of festival and celebration for me. It is being with family, friends, doing something together, something special, something that radiates happiness. The people, the crowd, the lights add to the enjoyment. But, ultimately it is not about these things. It is festival because I am with special people, doing something special. And it is celebration because I feel special. In the end, this festivity is something that is simply a part of me. Festivity and celebration is when my soul smiles.
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