Shohorer Goppo ( Story of a City)

Would you listen to a story? Doesn't a story get you excited; the way a plot unfolds, the characters take shape, the emotions flow and the climax! Did you hate the English class in school, when the teacher read out a new chapter, a new beginning everyday? I don't think so. So come sit, lets see what we have here.

I do have a story of mine; so do you. I may be a character in yours and you definitely play a role in mine. I don't know when and how your character got introduced; but you stayed. Chapter after chapter..getting intertwined with my plot and this is how I have you here beside me. So where were we..a a story. As I travel, look around and pause to ponder..I seem to pass on a tangent of many feelings. So many emotions lay in this city.. some I can relate to. Some lay astray on the roads, on the pavements; those unfinished emotions will be lost in pile of garbage maybe. The city has glitter, it may blind you at first but look beyond and there in the shadows you'll find- a life lingering on for survival with small doses of hope.
I see glimpses of love in some eyes; eyes speaking affection. The other day I heard," I'm there for you, don't you break down. I'll stand by you. We'll walk through this together". Don't mistake me for eves-dropping, it was all in her eyes. You see, eyes speak volumes if they have to. What amount of time do we have to actually speak out? To tell someone what all happened in the day, no matter how trivial it may be. Do we have a listener for our stupid sentiments, for our gimmicks, for our hopes and hues? There are many unfinished chapters wanting for an end, for a climax. The city gives you the beginning; it will introduce the plethora of characters that you'll be left wanting for more.

By the time you reach the ending and look back, they're gone. But you're here listening all this while. Oh! the story..it's not finished yet my friend. The city has many stories, each day I pass by a chapter. Words will falll short to finish what we started.

Luggage VS Baggage

It took a long time to come; a long time to think and ponder on. I was busy packing.

Packing my belongings and recollecting all that was there. Sometimes it takes a while to pack your past. Once you have established yourself in a place, you're a part of its existence. An existence breathed life into by the characters around you. The place is existing because we're there else it is a memory. And it is better to pack your memories before they get scattered in to the winds.

While packing, has it ever crossed your mind that what is it- is it my luggage or my baggage? Now, ain't both of these synonyms?? They're supposed to mean the same- across all travel catalogs, across all the destinations, amid those transits, those midnight halts, those check-in counters, in all languages; isn't it. Maybe not my friend!

Luggage is the burden that I trudge along from one place to another; from one destination to another. It bears on my shoulders heavily. My luggage is unpleasant, filled with that pouch of rotten evenings, that backpack of sick books and the trolley of stale conversations. Am I carrying that or is it otherwise? Baggage compiles of that trunk which your friends stuffed with stupidities, that suitcase where you dumped the eventful nights, those side-bags heavy with the moments you lived in. 

So what is it my friend? I have my packing done, it's time to go. Some paraphernalia will be left behind, I guess. Let my share your luggage to ease your burden or else let my add to your baggage that which I can't carry.