Mostly i doodle around my writing. it's never really conscious how i come to each word. i walk down the evenings on sideroads near the sea and that part i am really selfish about. i would take no one along. sometimes these evening walks seem symbolic to the larger truths about myself and my indulgent nature. My writing too is perhaps figuritive. I dont really know whether i have turned every experience and activity in life into something i could use. I know that if i did i wouldnt want it that way. i write with a lot of weakness and insecurity and also with a lot of love. i guess we all live as people and not as gods and goddesses. and there's the whole point.


My name, i did not choose. it was given by my beloved Grand mother. As a little girl, i always felt it was unfair not to have let me choose my own name. but now i think i couldnt have managed it.

when i was five i wanted to be called 'Shomi' so that i dont forget my best friend who i left behind while changing cities. somedays i wanted to be called Leela because she was my faviourite character from a book.. I have always wanted to be 'Mia' from Pulp Fiction. and then one day someone lovingly named me 'Mausami'. all my life i have sought after different things and named me differently each time. thinking i were it.
our names should suggest our personalities. but our vageries are such that one name limits it somehow.
well.. i could not go without a name but maybe thats why i never name my posts.
none of my writing bear titles so they could be ambiguous.
honestly, i could never decide on one and also giving a title somehow makes writing more authorised, directive.
when a friend quriously asked for the reasons.. i thought to my self "shotti to!"


"Mom o' dukkho bedon o, Mom o' shofol o shopon o', Tumi bhoribe shourobe.. Nishi dini shomo tumi robe..nirobe.. Hridoye mom'o."- Robindronath Thakur.

in quite.. firefly hums...nd expresses love.


After long years of keeping grudges like a sophisticated adult. one day of screaming, crying and badmouthing everyone feels therepeutic.

today the monkeys rampaged my neighbourhood. they tore down most trees, stole from houses left everyone intimidated.

more than for food, it was as if they struck for their shrinking habitats. every hate word with utter vengance.

in the end.. by the sight of them disappearing in the horizon like bandits or the turks after rampage.

and as my personal aggression subsided... i felt an equal calm..

i felt like them