Public Places Where People Have Sex in Kolkata

Kolkata is beautiful and all and we are all very fast and loose with our compliments and sarcasm, but there are some aspects of Kolkata (like many other cities) which we absolutely don't talk about. Let's talk about the fact that couples deranged with lust resort to make love (lets go with that) in public places. Parks, Shikaras, and behind bushes...they have been everywhere. If you see an umbrella and sometimes two held up like a tent at a park, don't peak, unless you are perverted like that. 

So, here's the list of public places where couples have sex or vigorously make out. 

Central Park

 If you happen to ride the giant wheel at Bidhan Nagar Mela near Central Park, you might catch bird's eye view porn when you look down. People under umbrellas, bushes and some even go to the lengths of putting up mosquito nets. Central Park is that place where your parents would never take you to play, and would never talk to you again if they knew you went to 'play'. They would never say why, but you know they know.

Elliot Park 

Aah the beauty of nature. Elliot park is a truly beautiful place. Thick trees, bushes, plants and flowers and the occasional liplocks. These are the sights you wanna look forward to there. But again, please don't peak.

Nalban 

Now this is the place where numerous  sex tapes have been made. It has a trifecta of mating spaces. You can use the shelter of bushes, use the inside of a boat, or rent a room and have at it. 

Cabins of hotels Yes. While you are having a polite conversation in the open area, someone might just be bumping uglies in the cabin next to you. Some cabins don't even have doors, just a curtain!

Mangal Pandey Park

 According to sources, this park in Barrackpore sees a lot of action too. 

Old Cinema Halls

 Yum! Popcorn and a blow job! That's what you might get to see, if you go to the old, decrepit cinema halls where Mon Mane Na and Meri Biwi Khooni Hai (I totally made that up) play at random. (Suggestion of other movie names: Tappakti Jawani, Main meri Katil hoon, Miss Call se bachha ho gaya, Pati fauj mein Biwi mauj mein.)

Cyber Cafes

 Yes. The sanctity of the internet is no more. They are having sex in the cabins! Oh the blasphemy! 

I can't help but feel there is no lightness in our being. Or to be precise in mine. I feel heavy, burdened. I feel like my lungs are weighing me down and my heart is weighing me down so that I can neither breathe nor feel. I am stooping day by day. I am in constant fear of being one with the ground. People will stomp on me and not give the flattened vestige of me a second look. '

At times I wonder whether that would be so bad. Would it really be that bad not being noticed? Not being looked at and judged? It is the dichotomy of two worlds within my mind. I wish I could make up mind for once. Do I wish I was normal? On most days. Right now, I just want to be devoid of feelings. Devoid of thoughts. I want to be free. I want to be and not be in the same moment. I want to just float in the nothingness that takes me everywhere and nowhere. How lovely it would be to transcend all the normalcy and the farce of reality. 

The promise…

It had stopped raining a while ago. She looked at the tear-stained glass door of the coffee shop where they had a long standing meeting.

He was standing at the mouth of an alleyway, watching her nervously sip her coffee and look at the door with every sound of a customer coming in. It had been a year since they said they would meet at the coffee shop when they were finally free from their burdens.

She no longer wore the customary vermillion or her wedding bangles.

He walked home silently, with drooping shoulders, moist eyes and a box of diapers in his bag.

Winter

The will droops and withers

In slow motion

Breaking silently with loud cracks

Echoing through neurons and firing up

All the ice settled through winter

It is still winter

Can you tell?


The eyes drink in the confusion

Methodically with no purpose

Zigzagging through hmms and erms

Stepping on frozen toes

And blackened fingers

Shivering beneath the glazed pupils


The hands, they don’t move

Stricken in fury

Broken in heavy emotions

Bursting at the seams

The fists form

Digging nails into ashen palms.

Why I am an atheist

I was born a Hindu in a moderately religious family. Well, my father is a communist, but he never actively told us not to follow religion. He did mock all the so called Sadhus and Saints though. Anyway, I was taught to pray, to believe in God. I did. I prayed, I performed religious rituals, I fasted and I very obediently did not displease God lest he smite me.

I went to a missionary school, where I learnt hymns and grew close to Jesus. I started going to churches, I made a Muslim friend, so I went to mosques too. I grew up around religion. I respected religion. I believed in God.

I prayed for me, my family, all the people close to me. I made it to my teens with the belief that praying helps. I met awful people along the way, had my teen naive heart broken, was betrayed by close friends, read about rapes and murders on paper and still prayed. I prayed for goodness. I prayed for relief. I prayed for sanity.

Along the way to adulthood, I met new people, I was privy to new ideas, I questioned everything. I questioned rituals, religion, rationales and motivation. I started forming my own opinions instead of conforming to my family's. At 21, I gave my belief. I started a new life away from home, at University, studying literature and cultural studies, debating social norms and effects of religion on people.

It's funny that theism is taken for granted, but atheism offends people. It does not become a way of life. My family still thinks it's a phase. It's as if I am flirting with atheism and will come to my senses eventually. I have just lost the way. Often I was and still am asked, "Who taught you atheism?" I laugh every time. I am annoyed that they think I do not have an individual opinion. I ask you, who taught you theism? Would you still believe in god if no one taught you to? If a person was bred and brought up in an environment without religion, would he/she still pray? Would the person believe in an entity larger than the universe, the creator?

I started not believing, when I started believing in something more than my faith. I started believing in myself. I stopped relying on prayers and relied on actions. My mother told me, "Don't say God does not exist. God will punish you for it." The irony in that sentence still baffles me. It's hilarious that people threaten us with hell and the wrath of god. We don't care!

Living in India, right now, is the superstitious hell for us Atheists. We seem to have been pushed aside even in politics due to our lack of religion or faith in a creator. The politics of India as it is now is more than just the welfare of people. It is religion. It used to be a battle of ideologies. Now it is a battle of intolerance and ignorance. It is also a battle armed with myths and religious scriptures that are so misconstrued that it is almost believable.

I am not taking pot shots at just one religion. I am not selling atheism to anyone. I am just voicing my opinion against the organised corruption in the higher ranks of all religious organisations. Yes. I say organisations. It seems that everyone is out to prove who the better God is and whose God loves them the most and it is always at the cost of bringing some other religion down.

It does not matter when you practice your own faith in your home not bothering or hurting other people and their sentiments. It is when you bring religion into the open, shoving it into people's faces and up their noses, disrupting lives and livelihood that it becomes an issue.

Recently an NGO in Delhi could not help the  Christian parents of a terminally ill girl monetarily. The trustee of the organisation later said, "Agar aap hindu hote toh phir bhi kuchh ho sakta tha" (We could have still done something if you were hindu) Since when does religion matter more than the life of a 21 year old who is lying paralysed on a bed?

With all the Ghar Wapsi campaigns by the Hindus, there is also a Muslim leader saying, all children are born Muslims and then converted to other religions. I continue to see the urge to make people conform to the religion one person or a group of people think is superior. There is always someone trying to convert someone else. What happened to free will? What happened to respecting other people's choices and beliefs?

I object to your dehumanisation of people due to their religion. I object to your crassness in the celebration of your religion. I object to your inhumanity. I object to your racism, sexism, elitism based just on your religion. I object to your society.

I am an atheist and happier for it. 

The Graveyard Book - A review.

I just finished reading The Graveyard Book, Yes. Yes. I know I should have gotten my hands on a Neil Gaiman book sooner. That man is awesome. But moving on from my inadequacies, I would just like to say that I simply loved the book, both from a reader and a critique's point of view.

First of all, let's talk about the imagery. It was amazing. The fantastical elements in the book blend in with reality just about perfectly. I loved the fact that it was not put in like a fairytale, where anything can happen. The book had just the right amount of reality mixed in with the dead, hounds of god and the Honor guard. The fact that a little boy walked to the cemetery and was adopted by ghosts was in itself so radical, that I was hooked from the word graveyard.

The suspense was intense. I was glued to the book in an extremely noisy bus where personal space is a myth. I was in that world, with Nobody Owens and Silas and the world of people and the dead. I loved the fact that I could not tell what was coming next. The book did not take any of the turns I thought it would. That, my friends, is what I love about books in the first place; the unknown. 

The characters in the book were so perfectly in sync. I could relate to some, and not to others. Human emotions and fantastical creations co-existed in perfect harmony. I also loved the fact that Gaiman wrote as easily about the child as the adult. With Bod growing, we also saw his emotions expanding and taking stock of life. The relation between a child and a role model was subtly implied and understood. There was satire in relationships and start truthfulness too. It was a journey. 

The most wonderful thing about the book was the name Nobody Owens. I applaud the fact that it did not change to an ordinary name at the end of the book. I am okay with Bod being Nobody Owens. I can relate to Bod. It really puts forth the idea that it's not what your name says about you but what you are that matters. 

The book also put forth the idea that everyone has something to teach, something to add to your life. The education Bod receives from the dead, some of them centuries old, all shape his life, no matter how outdated the information. 

If you haven't already read the book, I'd say please do. If you are anything like me, you will love and accept the graveyard family along with the living boy and the honor guard. 

Sometimes I think we only live because we can't die. Do we?

Ban

Ban dresses they show too much
Ban jeans they show too little
Ban burqas for eyes do talk
Ban eyes. How dare they look
Ban walking. We're getting somewhere
Ban transport. Bring them back one at a time.
Ban working late. It teases the night.
Ban working. Do we really need to?
Ban questions. You ask too much.
Ban reports. You said too much.
Ban excesses. We have too much.
Too much freedom. Too much influence. Too much reading. Too much soul.
Shut that mouth I said!
Ban talking. It brings up questions.
Ban societies. What good is learning things?

Ban entertainment. Just because.
Ban television. They put things in your mind.
Ban alcohol. Ban drugs. Ban escapes.
Ban sex. We come from Gods.

Ban dark alleyways. Ban abandoned buses. Ban the living room with the curious third cousin in it.  Ban the playground with the touchy neighbor. Ban crowds.
Ban hands.
Ban looks.
Ban elbows and knees and penises.
Ban breasts. Vaginas. Women.
Shove it all under the rug.
We will keep mum. We wont tell.
We wont point. We wont dwell.

Ban the darkness
Ban the light.
Ban excuses and ban the fight.

A thought

I was thinking that all our fight for choice and free will is ironic because our very existence is because of someone else's choice or lack there of. Some of us are planned babies, some are accidental and some a mistake. In any case our very being is the result if a choice and action we had no part in. Did I choose to park my ass on this land? No.

Thoughts?