Searching for Bangaliana in Pune

Burp. Yeah. Two years in Pune completed. Two years. Learned many a things. Understood many a things. Maybe the time is coming that I have to move on. Go on to the next stop. Because the time is coming again.



So, today my friend and I went to a small bengali restaurant in Pune. Deep. A restaurant frequented mostly by the office going staff. The place has a charm of its own. Its clean. The food is good and tasty. We went there because it has been a long time since we had something authentic bengali.



The musur dal,the crispy alu bhaja and the alu posto. the spirit of bangaliana. Accompaniments were fried fish and also pomfret kalia with ample amount of rice. Ah it was magical, it was heavenly. By the time I finished I was licking my fingers. The search for bangaliana ended maybe. Back on track. Back to our small room, back to the small ghupchi ghor. My bed in a mess, my roommates bed clean, the empty thums up bottle, the mess that was our room, that was me. A mess.

Sometimes I feel I have lost my identity. I am no more me. I try to find out exactly who I am. Who? I have found that I am both brave and coward, charming as well rud and arrogant. I have become a concoction of someone desperate. I am always an escapist. I know that. But this new me troubles me.

And Bangaliana? I don't know. All I find is snobbery around me.

The search I guess would go on.The eternal spirit of the chainless mind. My mind is never bounded. It treads different grounds, different territories of perpetual learning. Learn as you go. I hope my new identity will teach me something. Something at least.