Sunshine Too Brief


All Contents copyright of
Tazzy at

I'm a self-absorbed Bengali-Torontonian;
Fish comes to me raw, wrappend in seaweed, not cooked in curry;
I love watching thunderstorms and rain;
Sad endings make more sense to me than happy ones;
I hate empty walls.

In the News

Craving of the week-
Dark Chocolate
Reading List-
Midnight's Children
Movie review(out of 5)-
127 hours- *****
Buried- ****
That Girl in Yellow Boots- **
Love of the week-
Seeing James Franco
Aim for the weekend-
Watch 'Going Postal' The Movie

My Novella: Samosa for the Arranged Souls

Introduction & Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapters 3, 4 & 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 6 continues

Chapter 7 & Epilogue

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    Spilling over

    There comes a time in one's life when a flap jaw like me is rendered speechless. It happened a few days ago when I received a surprise delivery from Purolator. The gift is currently gracing my bookshelf and I still can't quite believe it-

    Yes- that's my poor attempt at a novella "Samosa for the Arranged Souls" in print!
    Inside are the most beautiful introductory sentences written by the editor, who incidentally is my oldest best friend Sakina.

    She (plus her hubby Mustafa, a fantastic man) got it published without my knowledge right in Kuwait and what can I say except that I'm humbled. That she thinks me worthy of such a thoughtful labour of love, is a true testament of her exceedingly generous spirit.
    Thank you for wrapping up your love and sending me strength when I truly needed it.
    All I can do from here is send up a prayer into the world for more Sakinas- my own Obama of hope. The world needs more of you!


    Single and content?

    (Warning: one of the long ones)

    When did this change happen?
    How did we, as a society, come to terms with the possibility of a loveless marriage and divorce but not a marriage-less life?

    I do not have the expertize to theorizing about society but I can tell you how it happened to me. It happens when one forgets that- one owes it to oneself to be loved by someone one wants wholeheartedly, not whom one merely tolerates because one is afraid of being single forever.
    So post 'horrible breakup' (which I wanted, just not with so much drama) of last year I started questioning myself- "Why did this happen to me?" and ended with "What do I want in a guy?".
    Then I threw myself into looking for someone by actively dating, with the reasoning that I have the capacity to love and be loved in return.

    Looking back, I am glad I actively changed my outlook about men (i.e. they are not all odd!), improved on my looks, did get asked out and then go on as many dates as I did with as many varied guys. It was fun to dress up and find out interesting bits about people who are sorta similar but also so different from me. The attention was nice even when the results were not that great. Dating gets exhausting after a while with constantly communicating with people when you clearly don't see any future with them. However the mission was accomplished.
    I do have the answer for "What I want in a guy".
    And no, I'm not listing it here.
    I've also decided to stop dating.

    Not to say that I've stopped looking or that I'm vowing spinsterhood. But I am, for the first time, proud to say that I'm reveling in my singlehood.

    Finally, with the lessons from dating, I am excusably carefree of the advice of others about 'how to find the one' because I've done them all and deaf to the "oh stop being picky and you'll find someone" sentiments abundant around me. I would still love to, one day, meet a guy with whom I can foresee future . But it is only one of the many things to happen in my life, which will one day give me things to reminisce about when I'm 85 and playing AI scrabble at the old-folks home, sitting in a room with slightly smelly old couches.

    I welcome that future room as its unavoidable with age induced physical incapacity.
    Then it occurred to me - in the meantime I had been erroneously constructing another room with interesting things to fill up time while waiting for life to start. That is not how it should be!

    Life has already started and I'm still physically capable of roaming outside.
    Its a good start that I've built lasting friendships, cultivated some interests and created a 'bucket list' (with a lot of things checked off already). But I've yet to passionately pursue something which will not only round up my understanding of life but sharpen it. I want to move beyond self-preservation to self-realization. A touch of infinite, as Tagore will say. My mark in the world that is uniquely me, outside of my relationship status.

    I don't have the details figured out, but I have a start.

    PS: If I fail, I ask this of my friends. When I die (esp if my organs cannot be of use), plant a couple of trees in a corner somewhere to make a fantastic reading spot for someone! (I'll leave the money in my Will)


    Chair and a Poem

    - Another 'message' from a 'chair'

    - Last 'written' poem of Tagore:

    The sun of the primal dawn
    Had asked
    Of the new creation of the eternal
    Who are you--
    He had no reply.

    Eons went by,
    The last sun of the day's ending
    Asked his last question
    At the end of the western seas
    In the silent evening,
    Who are you--
    There was no reply.

    - Translated again by Dipak Mazumdar in 'A Poet's Death'



    I was a cynic
    ...thank you Obama for giving me back hope.

    You were exactly what I had wished for four years ago 'here'.
    I just never believed it would happen and esp with a political leader- people are funny..esp American voters. But it did happen! And how our generation needed it.

    Please stay safe and remember to surround yourself with the right people.

    *showers Tim Bits from the top. *


    A case of Mondays

    Reminiscing about a time....

    When we searched for the
    Perfect pens to write in diaries,
    Happiness was
    Creating the perfect mixed tape,
    When red roses were small enough
    To be pressed between pages, and
    Betrayals were forgotten
    In a clever greeting card.
    When emotions
    Were raw