Today's a bandh and i'm writing a bloody blogpost.

The older we get, the more our priorities shift from important things in life. Today's a bandh. And i just caught myself lamenting on how i was supposed to get to place a from place b. Rewind five years, actually even three, and i would have found myself having the best morning i would have had had in a long long time ( notice the oh-so-cool use of two two hads and two two longs and damn i just overdid it, i know).

Bandhs were the Shit in school. Like rainy days, when school gave off and that too at the last moment, so you couldn't possibly prepare for it. But rainy days were still okay, because you had to sit at home and eat garam garam alu paratha, which is perfectly fantastic but just that the worth for those moments is less when you're a kid. Bandhs, on the other hand, meant you could get onto the streets and have a day-long tournament of para-cricket, and Everybody from the uncles who were champion cricketers in their good ol' days, to the Serious cricketers who played Serious cricket and didn't like playing with tennis balls in paras, to the maaru kids with their servants ( i Hate using that word, i really do) and their expensive bats and caps (who were shown their Real place on this day, haah, fucken brats), to the guy you never knew Existed in your para, they all came. And the mummies and aunties looked at the kid/husband/whoever abusing the hell out of one another on the streets from their windows and smiled and giggled.

I could never understand the hoo-haa about bandhs in life, everyone just seemed so perfectly happy that day. And ya, i know how nothing will ever happen to Calcutta if it keeps happening, and the amount of money the world loses, and how daily wagers have to survive another day with nothing, and i completely understand. I actually do.

Also how also it's all a big joke, really.

But this city's a little Like that, i say.