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The Unrealist, কলকাতা, KOLKATA (2026)

05/03/2023

I have been hating my hair since as long as I can remember. Till the 8th standard, my hair was always a “boys cut” or a “bob cut”. When I started growing and looked lovingly at the models and actresses on hoardings, tv screens and magazines, all I could see was straight hair, shining like silk.

I looked at my own hair which made me look like Manjulika reincarnated, and always had to be tied back. Any kind of event or party made me cry in desperation, because I could manage my makeup, but never my hair.

Then started the journey of hair straighteners every day, smoothening treatments, keratin hair products, and what not. I discovered the Curly Girl Method last December, and this is literally the first time in my life that I can't

I discovered the Curly Girl Method last December, and this is literally the first time in my life that I can't stop cheking out my hair. My own hair, not treated with heat, not modified with harmful chemicals.

And it's a f***ing revelation to say the least!! So, this post is to thank (author's name) who came up with this method, and the regret of not having any curly hair role model to look up to in my formative years.

May the next generation only change their looks because they want to, and not because of lack of representation in popular media.

P.s. - Layla in Moon knight looks like a goddess!! 😍

23/04/2022

Give your responsibility to art...rely on it completely, and let it heal you...

Today marks one month of ma going to hospital, for the first and last time of her life. In the last two weeks since the ceremony, all I have done is grieve, learn to keep calm, shut everyone off, shout angrily at her picture, screaming into pillows, be calm again, make to-do lists, run from one place to another with her death certificate, breaking down multiple times throughout the day irrespective of time and place, and paint whatever I felt like.
It was hard at first...just like it's hard now to even think of accepting the fact that I'm not going to hear her voice ever again, or talk to her... particularly hard at night.
But I am learning...again.
Learning a new life...and trying to accept it...trying to heal from this trauma.
And I know in my heart that art and animals will help much more than humans in this process.
We are too engrossed in our own lived experiences to make space for others'.
And we have too many rituals!! In each and every area.
For the past month I am listening to what I need to do and how to grieve from almost everyone....damn there are so many rules to be kept in mind, just to reach out for help...surely done with all these puny little things we've created to make ourselves feel important.
I will preferably live in this world where rules and rituals don't apply. And I am definitely sick of "professionals".

24/12/2021

Last year, during this week, I had talked with an auto-dada on my commute, who shared his cheerful story with me.
I realised it has been a long time since I shared these random stories here, which have always acted as my cue to remain humble. Also I need some inspiration and cheer for myself today.
So this Dada was a jolly fellow, with whom the conversation started with how lockdown made so many people suffer losses, including him. But he didn't seem to sulk about it at all. Cheerfully, he started talking about himself.

At 15, he had to leave his passion, Football, as his father had died leaving him to become the principle earning member of the family. He has kept on working since then, and days turned to years. 13 years later, he has a family of his own with 3 more mouths to feed, than before.
Cut to lockdown 2020...

'Dada', like millions of others, had to suffer huge losses as he couldnt take out his auto. His wife supported the family by opening a small sewing business of her own, but things were still quite hard obviously.
Then, on a day of "Dhutterika, b**l chhera jaay" (F*** this nonsense) he found some interested teenagers, and played some football in his neighbourhood, after 13 years!

That was a start! Or a re-birth (according to him).

Last December, when he was excitedly telling his story to me, he was back with his auto on the street again, but with changes in his schedule.
He was waking up at 4am everyday now, and taking his auto out on the street by 5.30am. By 3 in the afternoon he would take his last trip and rush to the grounds to play football.
His only regret was, "Onekdin dhore toh shudhu boshe boshei kaj korchhi, byam toh aar korini serom, komore aar oto jor nei didi. Kintu ekhon ki bolun toh? Nesha lege gechhe. Saradin auto chalaate aar birokti laage na, shomoy noshto korina, koto kkhoti holo, abar lockdown hole ki korbo, sarakkhon bhaabina. Shokaale shudhu ei bhebe beroi je bikele thik chole jabo football khelte."

(Continued in comments)

19/06/2021

I wanted to draw this during the entire last month. But it seemed so fake.

Every time I sent this emoji to people, it felt fake somewhere.
Every time someone else sent it to me, it seemed like they are doing the same.
Gritting their teeth to suppress the pain and the rage and hoping that the recipient of the msg does not lose hope. Forwarding leads, or asking for them. Sharing problems, pains, hurdles, tiny bits of ‘happiness’ and then breaking down again, everything rolled into this.

The symbol of hope!
Or rather “don’t lose hope, please don’t. We’ll get through this”

Tbh I have never taken this “fingers-crossed” thing seriously since school, but this was the MOST serious (and the most-used) symbol I have used in the past two months
When there was nothing left to say
When you yourself are in panic all the time, and yet you can’t afford to spread it amongst people fighting their hardest
When everything actually felt so dark with news of deaths, suicides, positive reports, job-losses, cyclones, this was what we all sent to each other
On every medium!
And after a point…it was just this. No words left anymore
If someone was fighting, you sent this
If someone asked for help, or you do, you give/receive help along with this

And if someone failed to save, you go numb and try to find which emoji to send
Because…no words left anymore

So I kept postponing drawing, or posting this. It felt fake enough in msgs and comments, why drag it to a sketchbook and posts section as well.
But right now, in this moment, in this ‘break’ from the war, I finally dragged it. Let it stay here for now.
With people around me either in a lull or trying to smile, some already bracing themselves for the third wave, some still frantically looking for vaccine slots, the Covid Warriors taking their much-needed rest, so many trying to go back to normal, or whatever’s left of it, let this moment be the time when I can actually post about hope.
With people trying to look upwards again, some even having the courage and strength to re-start from scratch, let this phase stay for a while, let it stay.

'Ye lamha, filhaal jee lene de'

P.s. Used Dip pens for the 1st time

27/03/2021

There are songs, or rather parts of songs, which refuse to leave you

The third stanza of Lake of Fire

Or the second one from Ruby Tuesday

Some lines of "Chalte chalte" (Pakeezah)

or some from "Gham ka Khazana"

That female solo from "Chali Kahaani"

They don't really fall into any particular genre or any time-period.
They just get stuck somewhere inside us without our knowledge, and one fine (or not) day, they erupt inside us and take us by surprise.

Just like this song of Mohiner Ghoraguli (Taake joto taraai dure dure) with which I have an unhealthy obsession...but most of all this para...sheer love!❤️❤️

On a down and gloomy day, in a phase in which you are least likely to think that anything you do is going to make any kind of effect on anyone, you start humming it out of nowhere on a lonely and still afternoon.

"She is stubborn, and whimsical
She is too lonely
All her emotions are nothing but farce
She still believes that Palaash will bloom
A cuckoo will sing
And she will change the side on the bed"

And you give a start
And wonder if it was written for someone like you, or you wish that you knew someone as genius as the songwriter!
I used to regret that I discovered Mohiner Ghoraguli quite late in life, early or mid twenties....along with a galaxy of other Indian gems in various formats and genres.
But after listening to their discography for the nth time, my regret turned to gratitude.
I was not mature enough to understand or appreciate their creations and the torrents of emotions and philosophy that their music and lyrics carry within them
I'm still not mature, but now I can cry for hrs, stay numb for days, and then on a lonely afternoon, raise an invisible toast to the Polaash and the Kokil who are going to arrive some day
Some day...for sure!

#❤️

13/03/2021

They say times are hard for dreamers...

21/02/2021

"আমি চাই সাঁওতাল তার ভাষায় বলবে রাষ্ট্রপুঞ্জে
আমি চাই মহুল ফুটবে শৌখিনতার গোলাপ কুঞ্জে
আমি চাই নেপালি ছেলেটা গিটার হাতে
আমি চাই তার ভাষাতেই গাইতে আসবে কলকাতাতে" ❤️

মাতৃভাষার প্রতি সম্মান যেন ভালবাসা থেকে আসে, ভয় থেকে নয়।

নিজের মাতৃভাষার প্রতি সম্মান যেন অন্য ভাষার প্রতি অসম্মানের কারণ না হয়।

সকল ভাষা শহীদদের প্রতি শ্রদ্ধা
এবং
সবাইকে আন্তর্জাতিক মাতৃভাষা দিবসের শুভেচ্ছা!

♥️

#বাংলা

#২১শ
@ কলকাতা

21/02/2021

"আমি চাই সাঁওতাল তার ভাষায় বলবে রাষ্ট্রপুঞ্জে
আমি চাই মহুল ফুটবে শৌখিনতার গোলাপ কুঞ্জে
আমি চাই নেপালি ছেলেটা গিটার হাতে
আমি চাই তার ভাষাতেই গাইতে আসবে কলকাতাতে" ❤️

মাতৃভাষার প্রতি সম্মান যেন ভালবাসা থেকে আসে, ভয় থেকে নয়।

নিজের মাতৃভাষার প্রতি সম্মান যেন অন্য ভাষার প্রতি অসম্মানের কারণ না হয়।

সকল ভাষা শহীদদের প্রতি শ্রদ্ধা
এবং
সবাইকে আন্তর্জাতিক মাতৃভাষা দিবসের শুভেচ্ছা!

♥️ @ কলকাতা

12/02/2021

कितनी लम्बी ख़ामोशी से गुज़रा हूँ
उनसे कितना कुछ कहने की कोशिश की

एक ही ख़्वाब ने सारी रात जगाया है
मैंने हर करवट सोने की कोशिश की

एक सितारा जल्दी जल्दी डूब गया
मैंने जब तारे गिनने की कोशिश की

नाम मिरा था और पता अपने घर का
उसने मुझको ख़त लिखने की कोशिश की

~ गुलज़ार
To all the letters I have never written, I am sorry
To all the candles I could never make, I am sorry
To all the books I bought but never read, I am sorry

To all the pens I had but never wrote/doodled with, I am sorry

To all the quiet and peaceful mornings I could never appreciate, I am sorry

To the tattoos and piercings and different colored hair that I tried to cover up to look "professional", I am sorry

To all the nights I threw my anger and hatred at, because of someone else's fault, I am sorry

To all those years of a peaceful and quiet neighbourhood that I couldn't acknowledge, I am sorry

To all the artworks I couldn't appreciate after I knew about their artists, I am sorry

To all the springs that went unnoticed because I carried winter around with me, I am sorry

To all the write-ups and doodles of me that I was too insecure to show anyone, I am sorry

And to all the promises to myself that I broke because someone else was cruel to me, I am sorry

Yesterday was Promise Day
Today is not Sorry Day

Today is just another day after another night full of hopeless laments, inward wails and muffled screaming in a pillow!

Just trying to put it out there
Just trying to accept and publish regrets
Just trying to write letters I can read again
Just trying...

01/01/2020

❤️

18/12/2019

"Ab bhi jiska khoon na khaula, khoon nehi wo paani hai"

SHOUT!

The Unrealist

05/03/2023

23/04/2022

24/12/2021

19/06/2021

27/03/2021

13/03/2021

21/02/2021

21/02/2021

12/02/2021

01/01/2020

18/12/2019

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