u/ByomkeshBeyond

Master's korar somoy college er film club er president chilam ebong ei game ta amader saptahik somabesh e regular khelatam. Setar ekta modified version ajke try kora jak.

Game tar naam ami diyechi - Plot Roulette

Rules holo, apnara jekono ekti random object comment korben ebong tar sathe ekta genre likhe deben. Bakira sei duto jinish diye ekti fictional plot er logline likhbe.

Example:
Object: Toaster
Genre: Horror

- "Ekti purono toaster e bread sekar por, tar theke pora bread berole byaboharkarir mrityu ghote"

Object: Newspaper
Genre: Sci Fi

- "Barite hothat purono newspaper ashte shuru kore, kintu bornito ghotona gulo bastob er cheye alada. Newspaper ti ekti alternate prithibi theke barite asche."

I'm currently working on an Audio project in the Bengali Audio space. See, to be upfront about a few things... The idea is to create a prototype and test it out before going on full scale production, so currently we'll try to make things as frugal as possible. No elaborate setups. Just raw voices and mixing.

If this is something that excites you and you want to try your hands on, hit me up. There's no monetary compensation involved (as of now). However I think it'll be a good opportunity to learn and master this craft.

I've been a host and emcee and have done voice work for quite some time but mainly in offline circles. That's why wanted to do something in the digital space.

It can be anything from the Birendra Krishna Bhadra days to Manosh-Pollob to Mehtab-Subroto to modern-day Varun-Arnab.

I'l| start: "বড় লোকের বাউন্ডুলে ছেলের মতন হেলায় সুযোগ উড়িয়ে দিলেন গোল মুখ থেকে" - Rajat Ghosh Dostidar.

It can be anything from the Birendra Krishna Bhadra days to Manosh-Pollob to Mehtab-Subroto to modern-day Varun-Arnab.

I'l| start: "বড় লোকের বাউন্ডুলে ছেলের মতন হেলায় সুযোগ উড়িয়ে দিলেন গোল মুখ থেকে" - Rajat Ghosh Dostidar.

For example, in the new Daredevil show, New York is portrayed almost as a major character in the narrative. Or if you've read Japanese literature say, the Kyosuke Kindaichi mysteries, you'll notice that every story is deeply connected to the contemporary social structure, politics, and geography of its time.

I'm looking to read some thriller/mystery novels that are similarly rooted in their contemporary history, culture, or politics.

Well, I saw an entire World Cup unfold in my own city. And what makes it crazier is that when I was sitting in the stands, I didn't know what I was watching. Phil Foden wasn't a treble winner. Takefusa Kubo wasn't "the Japanese wonderkid." Marc Guehi wasn't an England international. They were just kids.

Then years pass and suddenly you realize: "Wait... I watched these guys from 50 meters away."

That realization gets more valuable with time. The older I get, the more I think dreams are strange things. We imagine them in one very specific form. "I want to see a World Cup", "I want to make a film", "I want to travel the world", "I want to fall in love."

Then life gives us a distorted version of the dream and we don't count it because it wasn't the exact picture we imagined. But sometimes the distorted version is real enough. I might not have watched a senior World Cup final in Rio, Berlin, or Madrid. But I did spend weeks immersed in a FIFA World Cup atmosphere in Kolkata.

I think there's something beautiful about the fact that my World Cup memory isn't Messi lifting a trophy or Ronaldo scoring a hat-trick. It's sitting in Salt Lake Stadium, watching a bunch of teenagers run around, only to realize years later that I had unknowingly witnessed the future.

Well, I saw an entire World Cup unfold in my own city. And what makes it crazier is that when I was sitting in the stands, I didn't know what I was watching. Phil Foden wasn't a treble winner. Takefusa Kubo wasn't "the Japanese wonderkid." Marc Guehi wasn't an England international. They were just kids.

Then years pass and suddenly you realize: "Wait... I watched these guys from 50 meters away."

That realization gets more valuable with time. The older I get, the more I think dreams are strange things. We imagine them in one very specific form. "I want to see a World Cup", "I want to make a film", "I want to travel the world", "I want to fall in love."

Then life gives us a distorted version of the dream and we don't count it because it wasn't the exact picture we imagined. But sometimes the distorted version is real enough. I might not have watched a senior World Cup final in Rio, Berlin, or Madrid. But I did spend weeks immersed in a FIFA World Cup atmosphere in Kolkata.

I think there's something beautiful about the fact that my World Cup memory isn't Messi lifting a trophy or Ronaldo scoring a hat-trick. It's sitting in Salt Lake Stadium, watching a bunch of teenagers run around, only to realize years later that I had unknowingly witnessed the future.

I was thinking... I have actually seen a World Cup.

In front of my own eyes. In my home soil.

Every single match in this city. Group stage, knockouts, finals. Top quality of football. Unbelievable stadium atmosphere.

Marc Guehi, Phil Foden, Jadon Sancho, Hudson-Odoi, Gibbs-White, Smith-Rowe, Connor Gallagher, Takefusa Kubo, Ferran Torres, Eric Garcia... Watching all these stars in Jubo Bharoti.

I think I've already fulfilled my worldcup dream in some way and... If I'm gone tomorrow, I'll have one less regret.

Ajkal jekono boi tule nin, prothom 4 te patar por bujhe jaben ki hote choleche. Swornojug er por aar prokrito unnotomaaner sahityo khuje pawa besh dushkor hoye poreche.

https://preview.redd.it/e2nwbnd2tf6h1.jpg?width=4096&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=4bdd73f516fecbdc8fc7006b596f82d3dfe4bf9f

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Ek nimeshei aandhar

You and your homies get in the heavily modified SUV, drive through the highways, spot another SUV and pick-up immediate road rage, exchange gun fire, destroy your car, then tow the vehicle to Rakesh Motors Works to fix it.

• Step 1: Watch every western slasher and creature-horror films in existence
• Step 2: Study about all the different forms of Dashamahavidya. Brownie points if you read about Vajrajān Bouddho Tontro.
• Step 3: Find any maath (field) outside any random village or random township in Bengal
• Step 4: Build a random Temple of whichever god you draw from the lottery on that maath.
• Step 5: Introduce a huge number of characters in that village/town which must include a newly wed nobo-bodhu.
• Step 6: Start a series of random killings in that area with no explanation but heavy gore, use all that knowledge from step 1.
• Step 7: Make the husband of that nobo-bodhu the conscience of the story who figures out whatever is happening.
• Step 8: Create a situation in the climax, where the husband is coming face to face with the entity who's orchestrating all the killings.
• Step 9: Make the nobo-bodhu get possessed by one of the forms of Dashamahavidya, who will come and kill the entity.
• Step 10: The entity is defeated. The nobo-bodhu doesn't remember shit. The husband is in love all over again.

If you have followed these 10 easy steps, congrats. You have mastered the art of writing like Avik Sarkar... Potrobharoti and Deep are drowing in cash because of you, you have 17 missed calls from Porombroto Chottopadhyay and next time you go to the Bookfair, make sure you carry some bouncers with you.

• Step 1: Watch every western slasher and creature-horror films in existence
• Step 2: Study about all the different forms of Dashamahavidya. Brownie points if you read about Vajrajān Bouddho Tontro.
• Step 3: Find any maath (field) outside any random village or random township in Bengal
• Step 4: Build a random Temple of whichever god you draw from the lottery on that maath.
• Step 5: Introduce a huge number of characters in that village/town which must include a newly wed nobo-bodhu.
• Step 6: Start a series of random killings in that area with no explanation but heavy gore, use all that knowledge from step 1.
• Step 7: Make the husband of that nobo-bodhu the conscience of the story who figures out whatever is happening.
• Step 8: Create a situation in the climax, where the husband is coming face to face with the entity who's orchestrating all the killings.
• Step 9: Make the nobo-bodhu get possessed by one of the forms of Dashamahavidya, who will come and kill the entity.
• Step 10: The entity is defeated. The nobo-bodhu doesn't remember shit. The husband is in love all over again.

If you have followed these 10 easy steps, congrats. You have mastered the art of writing like Avik Sarkar... Potrobharoti and Deep are drowing in cash because of you, you have 17 missed calls from Porombroto Chottopadhyay and next time you go to the Bookfair, make sure you carry some bouncers with you.

On the 6th day of the 6th month, I was born. Some people said, " Wow, this kid was born on a special day." I'm on the other side of 25. With each such recent 6th Junes, I get a certain breathless feeling. Tons and tons of existential dread.

Growing up... is difficult. Looking at white hairs on your beard is difficult. Looking at yourself in the mirror and seeing your skills and potential getting destroyed with your eyes is difficult. Losing long-standing friends is difficult. Looking at the rapid radicalisation is difficult. Looking at the rampant xenophobia and racism against your creed within and beyond the borders is difficult. Looking at soaring temperatures is difficult. Looking at strong anti-immigrant sentiment across the globe is difficult. Looking at yourself getting distracted after reading 4 words of a book is difficult. Looking at yourself using all your mental fortitude to sit and finish a TV show with great difficulty is difficult. Looking at yourself not creating art is difficult. Looking at yourself living in a world dictated by algorithms is difficult. Fighting numerous battles in the household... in society, is difficult.

When I was a kid back in 2010, the world that I dreamt of growing up in was gone. With each passing day, the world changes so fast... It's damn hard to keep up. Since my past few birthdays... I realise how lonely and isolated I'm gradually getting. I feel like that song from Django: Unchained, Freedom.

"Felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders

Pressure to break or retreat at every turn"

How many years do I have left? 30? 40? 3? 4? Who knows? In this vast cosmos, who even the fuck am I? Why would my thoughts and feelings matter? Why would my voice have effect and authority? Did I add any value to society? Did I add any value to anyone? Did I add any value to even myself? Why should I exist? Who am I serving? What am I achieving?

But then, the blue oceans stretch far, the morning daffodils spread their scent, the sky becomes a canvas with the aurora... life goes on, the plant keeps revolving. Does my existence create a difference? One drop from the ocean gone, does it make a difference?

A life of frustration and difficulties, and an incredibly uncertain future ahead.... No choice but to march on. Because I was born on this beautiful blue planet. Until Mother Nature calls me back.

On the 6th day of the 6th month, I was born. Some people said, " Wow, this kid was born on a special day." I'm on the other side of 25. With each such recent 6th Junes, I get a certain breathless feeling. Tons and tons of existential dread.

Growing up... is difficult. Looking at white hairs on your beard is difficult. Looking at yourself in the mirror and seeing your skills and potential getting destroyed with your eyes is difficult. Losing long-standing friends is difficult. Looking at the rapid radicalisation is difficult. Looking at the rampant xenophobia and racism against your creed within and beyond the borders is difficult. Looking at soaring temperatures is difficult. Looking at strong anti-immigrant sentiment across the globe is difficult. Looking at yourself getting distracted after reading 4 words of a book is difficult. Looking at yourself using all your mental fortitude to sit and finish a TV show with great difficulty is difficult. Looking at yourself not creating art is difficult. Looking at yourself living in a world dictated by algorithms is difficult. Fighting numerous battles in the household... in society, is difficult.

When I was a kid back in 2010, the world that I dreamt of growing up in was gone. With each passing day, the world changes so fast... It's damn hard to keep up. Since my past few birthdays... I realise how lonely and isolated I'm gradually getting. I feel like that song from Django: Unchained, Freedom.

"Felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders

Pressure to break or retreat at every turn"

How many years do I have left? 30? 40? 3? 4? Who knows? In this vast cosmos, who even the fuck am I? Why would my thoughts and feelings matter? Why would my voice have effect and authority? Did I add any value to society? Did I add any value to anyone? Did I add any value to even myself? Why should I exist? Who am I serving? What am I achieving?

But then, the blue oceans stretch far, the morning daffodils spread their scent, the sky becomes a canvas with the aurora... life goes on, the plant keeps revolving. Does my existence create a difference? One drop from the ocean gone, does it make a difference?

A life of frustration and difficulties, and an incredibly uncertain future ahead.... No choice but to march on. Because I was born on this beautiful blue planet. Until Mother Nature calls me back.

Kolkata golche. Metaphorically noy. Literally. Google bolche taap matra 38°C. Feels like 48°C. Kokhono gorom taar, bheja moja, pora diesel, sosta perfume, purono shotruta, aar fryer er tel er gondho sukechen? Sohor ta theke thik sei rokomi gondho berocchilo.

Ei rod er jholkani te tokhon Park Circus jolche. Rod ei jolchilo tokhon, emite onno karone jole. Sei park circus er crossing chariye Ballygaunge er dike ektu egotei baa haate Quest Mall. Ebong shei Quest Mall er paanch tolay consumerism er fluroscent abhay dariye royeche ekti McDonald's. Eti obossho notun khuleche (plot er khatire), tai Quest mall er regular ra amay jela-bashi bhebe racism korben na.

Jak ge, amader golpo ei McDonald's eri jonoiko kormi - Lotika ke niye. Se store e dhuklei, futonto tel, bashi moida aar lysol er gondher majhe ekta halka lavender er gondho choriye porto. Lotika. Lavender Lotika. Hm, se kotha pore bolbo.

Lotika bhaja bhuji kore. Dekhe mone na holeo, se kintu tar kaaj ke khub pochondo kore. Sedin o fryer er saamne dariyechilo. Nojor ekdrishte futonto tel er bhetor. Ek gada chicken nugget sekhane maarpit korche. Sonali. Sombhranto. Sundor. Futonto tel er sei Chkchkkkssssssss shobdo ta... khub pochonder Lotikar. Tar mone hoy sei tel jeno tar sathe kotha bolche.. koto soto gossip dicche take.

Sobai bhabe frying hoyto cooking. Ahommok sob kota. Frying ashole transformation. Norom kichu apni jolonto julum er moddhe nikkhep korlen... Ebong ta shokto pokto hoye bir bikrome beriye elo. Kichukkhon pore lok mukhe chalan hoye jabe. Besh kemon adulthood er moton, na?

"Lotika, Duto McSpicy! Aar ekta fillet. Chol chol haat chala", manager chitkar kore uthlo. Cheletir naam Arindom, kintu Kolkatar middle-class culture er communication nomenclature er taronay pore sobai taake "Sir" bolto.

Lotika matha nere egiye gelo. Ek rash ghono chul tokhon khopa kore bandha. Tar opor hairnet. Apron e tel er chite. Chokh er tolay kaali. Ghum ki bhalo hocche na tar? 25 bochoer Lotika je kina baccha belay Europe er destination shortlist korto aaj se burger er assembly sequence mukhosto kore.

Pickle. Onion. Sauce. Patty. Bun. Despair. Repeat.

Mall er subrihot kaanch er berajal er opare dhoni lokera, maura-gujiya ra... haat e shopping bag niye ghure beracche. Ek ekta bag er daam hoyto tar 6 masher mainer soman.

Lotika bhajto. Bhajle poisa pabe. Raat e Kasbar barite fire eshe tar ceiling fan er dike takiye ghumiye porto. Ek sorkar protishruti diye deuliya hoye geche, arek sorkar hoyto protishruti diye deulia kore debe. Sudhu fan tai ek bhabe ghure jaay. Tar kono poriborton nei, heldol nei. Speed o change hoy na. Regulator ta shei kobei hariye geche.

Tobe jodi bhaben ami ekhane proverty porn likhte bosechi, khub bhul bhabchen. Lotika ghore fire Imtiyaj Alir hero der moton mushre pore thakleo, porokkhone snan tan kore bichanay phone niye eshe boshe. Khabar er video dekhte tar khub bhalo laage. Turkish Kabab. Japani Ramen. Markin Burger. Korean Barbeque. Aaro koto ki.

Tel, dhowa, nun, mangsho. Sobbhotar bhasa. Jeta onekei jane na... Instagram er ekti page FryMeToTheMoon ashole Lotikar. 411 khana follower ache. Besir bhagi bot. Ebong ekakitte bhoga engineering chhatro. Lotikar caption gulo kintu dekhar moton.

"Dhormo niye bhondami? Egg roll er porotay amar bhogoban"

"Biriyani holo promaan, je radical bahini social media te communal hingsha ugre ashbe sei Arsalan ei"

"Rajneeti naki juddho? Bhalobashar nei daam... Tel ekhono gorom, samne daralei ghaam"

Odbhut bhabe, loker kintu khub bhalo laagto. Oi moja-thatta aar tel er daag er majhe hoyto kothay sincerity lukiyechilo. Hoyto online soto ta, karjokori noitikotar thekeo birol.

Oboseshe Bisshudbar. Akash jhepe brishti elo. Hue Hue Kolkatar brishti mama... nongra, jor, pray biblical. Noar Arc pawa na geleo jotro totro Jowan er Arok pawa jetei paare. Ektu raat hoye gelo Lotikar. Ektu na.. maane onektai. Ghorite tokhon 11:42.

Moddho raat er bheja sohor. Dekhe mone hocche eimatro jeno kono boro durbhog theke utheche. Kichu maal extra hoye gechilo, inventory te jaiga chilo na... tai Lotika segulo bheje baki kormochari der moddhe biliye diyeche. Nijeo ekta kagoj er packet e koyekta McFries niye eseche. Setai ek ekta mukhe pure hete jacchilo Ballygaunge station er dike.

Ekta mor ghurtei lok ta ke dekhte pelo Lotika. Ekta pan dokaner pashe boshe. Paan dokani obosso ei borshar bajare kokhon dokan bondho kore bari chole geche. Loktir porone dhob dhobe sada jama. Tai ei desaturated poribeshe besh highlight hoye geche. Jama ekebare bhije chamrar sathe dete geche. Coller ta laal. Besh chomokprodo look toh. Dekhe toh besh borolok bolei mone hocche.

Lotika ebong loktir chokha chuki hoye gelo. "Excuse me", Lokti kichu ta phis phis korei bole uthlo. Ashe pashe aar lokjon bisesh nei. Lotika dariye porlo. E sohore cigaretter cheyeo beshi manush moreche curiosity te. Lok ti ekti badami kagoj er packet tar dike egiye dilo. Choto khato thonga jatiyo packet. Mishtir dokane ek dojon shingara kinle jerom packet dey serokom. Eteo jeno tel er daag lege.

"Eta.. Eta apni rakhun."

"Ki?"

"Please"

Lotika kichu bujhe othar ba uttor dewar aage kotha theke nirjonota aar ondhokar dui bhed kore sakkhat jomdut er moton ekta kaalo scorpio eshe hajir holo. Chokite. Okosshat. Borsha bhed kore high beam headlight jeno chukh puriye dicche.

Muhurte loktir mukh, tar poroner jamar motoi sada hoye gelo. Tar mukh theke sudhu ekta shobdo berolo "Palan". Duto pashondo tokhon scorpio theke neme poreche. Chehara Brazilian Bouncer der moto. Lotikar paa jeno jome geche. Se kichui bujhe uth te parche na. Sei dui pashonder moddhe ekjon gogon bhed kore chitkar kore uthlo, "Oi", onno jon komor theke ki ekta bar korlo... seta ki dekha gelo na, kintu ei ondhokar setar chokchoke ishpat dekhe bhaloi bojha gelo.

Lotikar kaane tokhon jiboddoshay shona sob true crime podcast gulo eksathe bajte shuru koreche. Sei sada jama ek laafe Lotikar dike egiye eshe tar haate sei badami packet ta dhoriye diye bollo "Oder etake bhajte deben na"

"What the f..." Lotika kichu bole othar aage lokti dour diyeche onno prante. Etokkhone Lotika bujhlo loktar collar laal noy, ota rokto sada kapore sushe orom dekhte hoyeche. Lokti samner ekti ondhokar golir moddhe miliye jawar chesta korlo... kintu sei mukto sada jama ki aar take lukote dey, pashondo dutio dhawa koreche... muhurte ei puro jhonja ta Lotikar samne theke ube gelo.

Lotika ki korbe tai bhabche... Hothat abar gogon bhed kore ekta artonad. bheja. Khonik er jonno. Manush er gola. Tarpor sob abar nischup. Lotika etokkhone bujhte pereche tar hridpindo ta ekta 22 ghonta dhore chaliye rakha generator er moton dhorpor korche. Nijeke ektu samle nitei arekti awaj kaane elo tar. Sei goli beye payer awaj druto tar dike dheye asche.

Emon somoy Lotika setai korlo jeta Kolkata sohor tar nibashi der sikhiyeche. Se palalo. De dour. Kada mariye, ghumonto kukurer lej e paa diye, tramline e hochot kheye, bulldozer mara chaa dokaner bhognangsher pash diye... kotokkhon chuteche Lotika? Nijero kheyal nei.

Rastar dhare ek jubok ke scooter park kore drainer dhare moner anonde hishi korche. Helmet ta scooter er handle e jhulchilo. Helmet er pichhone lekha "Bhalobasha... keno eto osohay?" Signal ta tokhon laal. Poschimbonger ei ek grammar. Ekhane signal e Laal er por direct Sobuj ashe. Tarpor ashe Gerua. Chele ti ke dekhte peye Lotika daak dilo, "Sunchen?"

Cheleti hokchokiye tar jinish potro haate niyei pechon ghure takalo " Ei, Ke? Ke?" Loitka ke dekhte peye, churanto lojja peye se tar machine ti lukiye torighori chain tule garage bondho kore dilo. Kichu ta jol tokhon tar pant er bhetoreo poreche. Lotika bollo "Rapido?"

Cheleti ebar bhalo kore Lotika ke apadomostok dekhe nilo. Lotikar obostha dekhe mone hocchilo jeno keu take 5 din por deep freeze theke bar kore microwave e rekhe "Defrost" e press korte bhule gechilo.

"Na.. Rapido noi."

"Oh, Uber?"

"Na"

"Jatri Sathi"

"Na"

"Tahole scooter niye ekhane hishi korchen keno?"

"Iye.. Maane, arrey tar sathe rapidor ki somporko... Khomotay na tahkle ki hishi korar odhikar nei naki?

Chele ti ektu kachu machu mukh kore kichukkhon Lotikar diye takiye roilo. Tarpor bollo -

"Kitnu apni.. eto raate.. kothay jaben? Cholun chere diye aschi"

Lotika ghore dhukei dorjata ek taane bondho kore dilo. Tokhono hapacche. Packet ta rasta tei fele dile hoto... kintu oi... curiosity. Packet ta jeno kirom gorom thekche haate. Pray jeno jibonto kichu ache taate. Jak... ghorer holdete tubelight er aloy, table er opor packet ta upur korlo se.

Thok Thok kore 3 te jinish setar bhetor theke porlo. Tar moddhe ekta jinish table e bounce kheye goriye neeche giye porlo. Lotika dekhlo table e pore ekti chobi o ektu menu card. Chobi ta tule niye kemon bheja bheja laglo, chobi ta ulte tar pechone dekhe laal kaali te kichu lekha.. kaali tokhono kache haat e uthe asche, kaali obossho noy.. chobi tar pechone lekha "Chef is Lying".

Ceiling fan ta shei apon monei ghure choleche. Lotika jhuke porlo matite ki poreche dekhar jonno. Table er tolay uki martei jinish ta dekhte pelo se. Tok toke sonali. Ekebare taja. Ekti manusher deep fried angul.

E ki ceiling fan er awaj ta hothat jor mone hocche keno? Etobochor ek bhabe chole, ajke ki holo taar?

Tok. Tok. Tok.

Thik teenti toka porlo Lotikar dorjay shei muhurte.

Baire theke awaj elo...

"Madam... apnar fries gulo thanda hoye jacche"

https://preview.redd.it/idrt6xsmvb5h1.png?width=1122&format=png&auto=webp&s=841e9292222a97a94c03626d39760d384fd84d30

Kolkata golche. Metaphorically noy. Literally. Google bolche taap matra 38°C. Feels like 48°C. Kokhono gorom taar, bheja moja, pora diesel, sosta perfume, purono shotruta, aar fryer er tel er gondho sukechen? Sohor ta theke thik sei rokomi gondho berocchilo.

Ei rod er jholkani te tokhon Park Circus jolche. Rod ei jolchilo tokhon, emite onno karone jole. Sei park circus er crossing chariye Ballygaunge er dike ektu egotei baa haate Quest Mall. Ebong shei Quest Mall er paanch tolay consumerism er fluroscent abhay dariye royeche ekti McDonald's. Eti obossho notun khuleche (plot er khatire), tai Quest mall er regular ra amay jela-bashi bhebe racism korben na.

Jak ge, amader golpo ei McDonald's eri jonoiko kormi - Lotika ke niye. Se store e dhuklei, futonto tel, bashi moida aar lysol er gondher majhe ekta halka lavender er gondho choriye porto. Lotika. Lavender Lotika. Hm, se kotha pore bolbo.

Lotika bhaja bhuji kore. Dekhe mone na holeo, se kintu tar kaaj ke khub pochondo kore. Sedin o fryer er saamne dariyechilo. Nojor ekdrishte futonto tel er bhetor. Ek gada chicken nugget sekhane maarpit korche. Sonali. Sombhranto. Sundor. Futonto tel er sei Chkchkkkssssssss shobdo ta... khub pochonder Lotikar. Tar mone hoy sei tel jeno tar sathe kotha bolche.. koto soto gossip dicche take.

Sobai bhabe frying hoyto cooking. Ahommok sob kota. Frying ashole transformation. Norom kichu apni jolonto julum er moddhe nikkhep korlen... Ebong ta shokto pokto hoye bir bikrome beriye elo. Kichukkhon pore lok mukhe chalan hoye jabe. Besh kemon adulthood er moton, na?

"Lotika, Duto McSpicy! Aar ekta fillet. Chol chol haat chala", manager chitkar kore uthlo. Cheletir naam Arindom, kintu Kolkatar middle-class culture er communication nomenclature er taronay pore sobai taake "Sir" bolto.

Lotika matha nere egiye gelo. Ek rash ghono chul tokhon khopa kore bandha. Tar opor hairnet. Apron e tel er chite. Chokh er tolay kaali. Ghum ki bhalo hocche na tar? 25 bochoer Lotika je kina baccha belay Europe er destination shortlist korto aaj se burger er assembly sequence mukhosto kore.

Pickle. Onion. Sauce. Patty. Bun. Despair. Repeat.

Mall er subrihot kaanch er berajal er opare dhoni lokera, maura-gujiya ra... haat e shopping bag niye ghure beracche. Ek ekta bag er daam hoyto tar 6 masher mainer soman.

Lotika bhajto. Bhajle poisa pabe. Raat e Kasbar barite fire eshe tar ceiling fan er dike takiye ghumiye porto. Ek sorkar protishruti diye deuliya hoye geche, arek sorkar hoyto protishruti diye deulia kore debe. Sudhu fan tai ek bhabe ghure jaay. Tar kono poriborton nei, heldol nei. Speed o change hoy na. Regulator ta shei kobei hariye geche.

Tobe jodi bhaben ami ekhane proverty porn likhte bosechi, khub bhul bhabchen. Lotika ghore fire Imtiyaj Alir hero der moton mushre pore thakleo, porokkhone snan tan kore bichanay phone niye eshe boshe. Khabar er video dekhte tar khub bhalo laage. Turkish Kabab. Japani Ramen. Markin Burger. Korean Barbeque. Aaro koto ki.

Tel, dhowa, nun, mangsho. Sobbhotar bhasa. Jeta onekei jane na... Instagram er ekti page FryMeToTheMoon ashole Lotikar. 411 khana follower ache. Besir bhagi bot. Ebong ekakitte bhoga engineering chhatro. Lotikar caption gulo kintu dekhar moton.

"Dhormo niye bhondami? Egg roll er porotay amar bhogoban"

"Biriyani holo promaan, je radical bahini social media te communal hingsha ugre ashbe sei Arsalan ei"

"Rajneeti naki juddho? Bhalobashar nei daam... Tel ekhono gorom, samne daralei ghaam"

Odbhut bhabe, loker kintu khub bhalo laagto. Oi moja-thatta aar tel er daag er majhe hoyto kothay sincerity lukiyechilo. Hoyto online soto ta, karjokori noitikotar thekeo birol.

Oboseshe Bisshudbar. Akash jhepe brishti elo. Hue Hue Kolkatar brishti mama... nongra, jor, pray biblical. Noar Arc pawa na geleo jotro totro Jowan er Arok pawa jetei paare. Ektu raat hoye gelo Lotikar. Ektu na.. maane onektai. Ghorite tokhon 11:42.

Moddho raat er bheja sohor. Dekhe mone hocche eimatro jeno kono boro durbhog theke utheche. Kichu maal extra hoye gechilo, inventory te jaiga chilo na... tai Lotika segulo bheje baki kormochari der moddhe biliye diyeche. Nijeo ekta kagoj er packet e koyekta McFries niye eseche. Setai ek ekta mukhe pure hete jacchilo Ballygaunge station er dike.

Ekta mor ghurtei lok ta ke dekhte pelo Lotika. Ekta pan dokaner pashe boshe. Paan dokani obosso ei borshar bajare kokhon dokan bondho kore bari chole geche. Loktir porone dhob dhobe sada jama. Tai ei desaturated poribeshe besh highlight hoye geche. Jama ekebare bhije chamrar sathe dete geche. Coller ta laal. Besh chomokprodo look toh. Dekhe toh besh borolok bolei mone hocche.

Lotika ebong loktir chokha chuki hoye gelo. "Excuse me", Lokti kichu ta phis phis korei bole uthlo. Ashe pashe aar lokjon bisesh nei. Lotika dariye porlo. E sohore cigaretter cheyeo beshi manush moreche curiosity te. Lok ti ekti badami kagoj er packet tar dike egiye dilo. Choto khato thonga jatiyo packet. Mishtir dokane ek dojon shingara kinle jerom packet dey serokom. Eteo jeno tel er daag lege.

"Eta.. Eta apni rakhun."

"Ki?"

"Please"

Lotika kichu bujhe othar ba uttor dewar aage kotha theke nirjonota aar ondhokar dui bhed kore sakkhat jomdut er moton ekta kaalo scorpio eshe hajir holo. Chokite. Okosshat. Borsha bhed kore high beam headlight jeno chukh puriye dicche.

Muhurte loktir mukh, tar poroner jamar motoi sada hoye gelo. Tar mukh theke sudhu ekta shobdo berolo "Palan". Duto pashondo tokhon scorpio theke neme poreche. Chehara Brazilian Bouncer der moto. Lotikar paa jeno jome geche. Se kichui bujhe uth te parche na. Sei dui pashonder moddhe ekjon gogon bhed kore chitkar kore uthlo, "Oi", onno jon komor theke ki ekta bar korlo... seta ki dekha gelo na, kintu ei ondhokar setar chokchoke ishpat dekhe bhaloi bojha gelo.

Lotikar kaane tokhon jiboddoshay shona sob true crime podcast gulo eksathe bajte shuru koreche. Sei sada jama ek laafe Lotikar dike egiye eshe tar haate sei badami packet ta dhoriye diye bollo "Oder etake bhajte deben na"

"What the f..." Lotika kichu bole othar aage lokti dour diyeche onno prante. Etokkhone Lotika bujhlo loktar collar laal noy, ota rokto sada kapore sushe orom dekhte hoyeche. Lokti samner ekti ondhokar golir moddhe miliye jawar chesta korlo... kintu sei mukto sada jama ki aar take lukote dey, pashondo dutio dhawa koreche... muhurte ei puro jhonja ta Lotikar samne theke ube gelo.

Lotika ki korbe tai bhabche... Hothat abar gogon bhed kore ekta artonad. bheja. Khonik er jonno. Manush er gola. Tarpor sob abar nischup. Lotika etokkhone bujhte pereche tar hridpindo ta ekta 22 ghonta dhore chaliye rakha generator er moton dhorpor korche. Nijeke ektu samle nitei arekti awaj kaane elo tar. Sei goli beye payer awaj druto tar dike dheye asche.

Emon somoy Lotika setai korlo jeta Kolkata sohor tar nibashi der sikhiyeche. Se palalo. De dour. Kada mariye, ghumonto kukurer lej e paa diye, tramline e hochot kheye, bulldozer mara chaa dokaner bhognangsher pash diye... kotokkhon chuteche Lotika? Nijero kheyal nei.

Rastar dhare ek jubok ke scooter park kore drainer dhare moner anonde hishi korche. Helmet ta scooter er handle e jhulchilo. Helmet er pichhone lekha "Bhalobasha... keno eto osohay?" Signal ta tokhon laal. Poschimbonger ei ek grammar. Ekhane signal e Laal er por direct Sobuj ashe. Tarpor ashe Gerua. Chele ti ke dekhte peye Lotika daak dilo, "Sunchen?"

Cheleti hokchokiye tar jinish potro haate niyei pechon ghure takalo " Ei, Ke? Ke?" Loitka ke dekhte peye, churanto lojja peye se tar machine ti lukiye torighori chain tule garage bondho kore dilo. Kichu ta jol tokhon tar pant er bhetoreo poreche. Lotika bollo "Rapido?"

Cheleti ebar bhalo kore Lotika ke apadomostok dekhe nilo. Lotikar obostha dekhe mone hocchilo jeno keu take 5 din por deep freeze theke bar kore microwave e rekhe "Defrost" e press korte bhule gechilo.

"Na.. Rapido noi."

"Oh, Uber?"

"Na"

"Jatri Sathi"

"Na"

"Tahole scooter niye ekhane hishi korchen keno?"

"Iye.. Maane, arrey tar sathe rapidor ki somporko... Khomotay na tahkle ki hishi korar odhikar nei naki?

Chele ti ektu kachu machu mukh kore kichukkhon Lotikar diye takiye roilo. Tarpor bollo -

"Kitnu apni.. eto raate.. kothay jaben? Cholun chere diye aschi"

Lotika ghore dhukei dorjata ek taane bondho kore dilo. Tokhono hapacche. Packet ta rasta tei fele dile hoto... kintu oi... curiosity. Packet ta jeno kirom gorom thekche haate. Pray jeno jibonto kichu ache taate. Jak... ghorer holdete tubelight er aloy, table er opor packet ta upur korlo se.

Thok Thok kore 3 te jinish setar bhetor theke porlo. Tar moddhe ekta jinish table e bounce kheye goriye neeche giye porlo. Lotika dekhlo table e pore ekti chobi o ektu menu card. Chobi ta tule niye kemon bheja bheja laglo, chobi ta ulte tar pechone dekhe laal kaali te kichu lekha.. kaali tokhono kache haat e uthe asche, kaali obossho noy.. chobi tar pechone lekha "Chef is Lying".

Ceiling fan ta shei apon monei ghure choleche. Lotika jhuke porlo matite ki poreche dekhar jonno. Table er tolay uki martei jinish ta dekhte pelo se. Tok toke sonali. Ekebare taja. Ekti manusher deep fried angul.

E ki ceiling fan er awaj ta hothat jor mone hocche keno? Etobochor ek bhabe chole, ajke ki holo taar?

Tok. Tok. Tok.

Thik teenti toka porlo Lotikar dorjay shei muhurte.

Baire theke awaj elo...

"Madam... apnar fries gulo thanda hoye jacche"

Kolkata golche. Metaphorically noy. Literally. Google bolche taap matra 38°C. Feels like 48°C. Kokhono gorom taar, bheja moja, pora diesel, sosta perfume, purono shotruta, aar fryer er tel er gondho sukechen? Sohor ta theke thik sei rokomi gondho berocchilo.

Ei rod er jholkani te tokhon Park Circus jolche. Rod ei jolchilo tokhon, emite onno karone jole. Sei park circus er crossing chariye Ballygaunge er dike ektu egotei baa haate Quest Mall. Ebong shei Quest Mall er paanch tolay consumerism er fluroscent abhay dariye royeche ekti McDonald's. Eti obossho notun khuleche (plot er khatire), tai Quest mall er regular ra amay jela-bashi bhebe racism korben na.

Jak ge, amader golpo ei McDonald's eri jonoiko kormi - Lotika ke niye. Se store e dhuklei, futonto tel, bashi moida aar lysol er gondher majhe ekta halka lavender er gondho choriye porto. Lotika. Lavender Lotika. Hm, se kotha pore bolbo.

Lotika bhaja bhuji kore. Dekhe mone na holeo, se kintu tar kaaj ke khub pochondo kore. Sedin o fryer er saamne dariyechilo. Nojor ekdrishte futonto tel er bhetor. Ek gada chicken nugget sekhane maarpit korche. Sonali. Sombhranto. Sundor. Futonto tel er sei Chkchkkkssssssss shobdo ta... khub pochonder Lotikar. Tar mone hoy sei tel jeno tar sathe kotha bolche.. koto soto gossip dicche take.

Sobai bhabe frying hoyto cooking. Ahommok sob kota. Frying ashole transformation. Norom kichu apni jolonto julum er moddhe nikkhep korlen... Ebong ta shokto pokto hoye bir bikrome beriye elo. Kichukkhon pore lok mukhe chalan hoye jabe. Besh kemon adulthood er moton, na?

"Lotika, Duto McSpicy! Aar ekta fillet. Chol chol haat chala", manager chitkar kore uthlo. Cheletir naam Arindom, kintu Kolkatar middle-class culture er communication nomenclature er taronay pore sobai taake "Sir" bolto.

Lotika matha nere egiye gelo. Ek rash ghono chul tokhon khopa kore bandha. Tar opor hairnet. Apron e tel er chite. Chokh er tolay kaali. Ghum ki bhalo hocche na tar? 25 bochoer Lotika je kina baccha belay Europe er destination shortlist korto aaj se burger er assembly sequence mukhosto kore.

Pickle. Onion. Sauce. Patty. Bun. Despair. Repeat.

Mall er subrihot kaanch er berajal er opare dhoni lokera, maura-gujiya ra... haat e shopping bag niye ghure beracche. Ek ekta bag er daam hoyto tar 6 masher mainer soman.

Lotika bhajto. Bhajle poisa pabe. Raat e Kasbar barite fire eshe tar ceiling fan er dike takiye ghumiye porto. Ek sorkar protishruti diye deuliya hoye geche, arek sorkar hoyto protishruti diye deulia kore debe. Sudhu fan tai ek bhabe ghure jaay. Tar kono poriborton nei, heldol nei. Speed o change hoy na. Regulator ta shei kobei hariye geche.

Tobe jodi bhaben ami ekhane proverty porn likhte bosechi, khub bhul bhabchen. Lotika ghore fire Imtiyaj Alir hero der moton mushre pore thakleo, porokkhone snan tan kore bichanay phone niye eshe boshe. Khabar er video dekhte tar khub bhalo laage. Turkish Kabab. Japani Ramen. Markin Burger. Korean Barbeque. Aaro koto ki.

Tel, dhowa, nun, mangsho. Sobbhotar bhasa. Jeta onekei jane na... Instagram er ekti page FryMeToTheMoon ashole Lotikar. 411 khana follower ache. Besir bhagi bot. Ebong ekakitte bhoga engineering chhatro. Lotikar caption gulo kintu dekhar moton.

"Dhormo niye bhondami? Egg roll er porotay amar bhogoban"

"Biriyani holo promaan, je radical bahini social media te communal hingsha ugre ashbe sei Arsalan ei"

"Rajneeti naki juddho? Bhalobashar nei daam... Tel ekhono gorom, samne daralei ghaam"

Odbhut bhabe, loker kintu khub bhalo laagto. Oi moja-thatta aar tel er daag er majhe hoyto kothay sincerity lukiyechilo. Hoyto online soto ta, karjokori noitikotar thekeo birol.

Oboseshe Bisshudbar. Akash jhepe brishti elo. Hue Hue Kolkatar brishti mama... nongra, jor, pray biblical. Noar Arc pawa na geleo jotro totro Jowan er Arok pawa jetei paare. Ektu raat hoye gelo Lotikar. Ektu na.. maane onektai. Ghorite tokhon 11:42.

Moddho raat er bheja sohor. Dekhe mone hocche eimatro jeno kono boro durbhog theke utheche. Kichu maal extra hoye gechilo, inventory te jaiga chilo na... tai Lotika segulo bheje baki kormochari der moddhe biliye diyeche. Nijeo ekta kagoj er packet e koyekta McFries niye eseche. Setai ek ekta mukhe pure hete jacchilo Ballygaunge station er dike.

Ekta mor ghurtei lok ta ke dekhte pelo Lotika. Ekta pan dokaner pashe boshe. Paan dokani obosso ei borshar bajare kokhon dokan bondho kore bari chole geche. Loktir porone dhob dhobe sada jama. Tai ei desaturated poribeshe besh highlight hoye geche. Jama ekebare bhije chamrar sathe dete geche. Coller ta laal. Besh chomokprodo look toh. Dekhe toh besh borolok bolei mone hocche.

Lotika ebong loktir chokha chuki hoye gelo. "Excuse me", Lokti kichu ta phis phis korei bole uthlo. Ashe pashe aar lokjon bisesh nei. Lotika dariye porlo. E sohore cigaretter cheyeo beshi manush moreche curiosity te. Lok ti ekti badami kagoj er packet tar dike egiye dilo. Choto khato thonga jatiyo packet. Mishtir dokane ek dojon shingara kinle jerom packet dey serokom. Eteo jeno tel er daag lege.

"Eta.. Eta apni rakhun."

"Ki?"

"Please"

Lotika kichu bujhe othar ba uttor dewar aage kotha theke nirjonota aar ondhokar dui bhed kore sakkhat jomdut er moton ekta kaalo scorpio eshe hajir holo. Chokite. Okosshat. Borsha bhed kore high beam headlight jeno chukh puriye dicche.

Muhurte loktir mukh, tar poroner jamar motoi sada hoye gelo. Tar mukh theke sudhu ekta shobdo berolo "Palan". Duto pashondo tokhon scorpio theke neme poreche. Chehara Brazilian Bouncer der moto. Lotikar paa jeno jome geche. Se kichui bujhe uth te parche na. Sei dui pashonder moddhe ekjon gogon bhed kore chitkar kore uthlo, "Oi", onno jon komor theke ki ekta bar korlo... seta ki dekha gelo na, kintu ei ondhokar setar chokchoke ishpat dekhe bhaloi bojha gelo.

Lotikar kaane tokhon jiboddoshay shona sob true crime podcast gulo eksathe bajte shuru koreche. Sei sada jama ek laafe Lotikar dike egiye eshe tar haate sei badami packet ta dhoriye diye bollo "Oder etake bhajte deben na"

"What the f..." Lotika kichu bole othar aage lokti dour diyeche onno prante. Etokkhone Lotika bujhlo loktar collar laal noy, ota rokto sada kapore sushe orom dekhte hoyeche. Lokti samner ekti ondhokar golir moddhe miliye jawar chesta korlo... kintu sei mukto sada jama ki aar take lukote dey, pashondo dutio dhawa koreche... muhurte ei puro jhonja ta Lotikar samne theke ube gelo.

Lotika ki korbe tai bhabche... Hothat abar gogon bhed kore ekta artonad. bheja. Khonik er jonno. Manush er gola. Tarpor sob abar nischup. Lotika etokkhone bujhte pereche tar hridpindo ta ekta 22 ghonta dhore chaliye rakha generator er moton dhorpor korche. Nijeke ektu samle nitei arekti awaj kaane elo tar. Sei goli beye payer awaj druto tar dike dheye asche.

Emon somoy Lotika setai korlo jeta Kolkata sohor tar nibashi der sikhiyeche. Se palalo. De dour. Kada mariye, ghumonto kukurer lej e paa diye, tramline e hochot kheye, bulldozer mara chaa dokaner bhognangsher pash diye... kotokkhon chuteche Lotika? Nijero kheyal nei.

Rastar dhare ek jubok ke scooter park kore drainer dhare moner anonde hishi korche. Helmet ta scooter er handle e jhulchilo. Helmet er pichhone lekha "Bhalobasha... keno eto osohay?" Signal ta tokhon laal. Poschimbonger ei ek grammar. Ekhane signal e Laal er por direct Sobuj ashe. Tarpor ashe Gerua. Chele ti ke dekhte peye Lotika daak dilo, "Sunchen?"

Cheleti hokchokiye tar jinish potro haate niyei pechon ghure takalo " Ei, Ke? Ke?" Loitka ke dekhte peye, churanto lojja peye se tar machine ti lukiye torighori chain tule garage bondho kore dilo. Kichu ta jol tokhon tar pant er bhetoreo poreche. Lotika bollo "Rapido?"

Cheleti ebar bhalo kore Lotika ke apadomostok dekhe nilo. Lotikar obostha dekhe mone hocchilo jeno keu take 5 din por deep freeze theke bar kore microwave e rekhe "Defrost" e press korte bhule gechilo.

"Na.. Rapido noi."

"Oh, Uber?"

"Na"

"Jatri Sathi"

"Na"

"Tahole scooter niye ekhane hishi korchen keno?"

"Iye.. Maane, arrey tar sathe rapidor ki somporko... Khomotay na tahkle ki hishi korar odhikar nei naki?

Chele ti ektu kachu machu mukh kore kichukkhon Lotikar diye takiye roilo. Tarpor bollo -

"Kitnu apni.. eto raate.. kothay jaben? Cholun chere diye aschi"

Lotika ghore dhukei dorjata ek taane bondho kore dilo. Tokhono hapacche. Packet ta rasta tei fele dile hoto... kintu oi... curiosity. Packet ta jeno kirom gorom thekche haate. Pray jeno jibonto kichu ache taate. Jak... ghorer holdete tubelight er aloy, table er opor packet ta upur korlo se.

Thok Thok kore 3 te jinish setar bhetor theke porlo. Tar moddhe ekta jinish table e bounce kheye goriye neeche giye porlo. Lotika dekhlo table e pore ekti chobi o ektu menu card. Chobi ta tule niye kemon bheja bheja laglo, chobi ta ulte tar pechone dekhe laal kaali te kichu lekha.. kaali tokhono kache haat e uthe asche, kaali obossho noy.. chobi tar pechone lekha "Chef is Lying".

Ceiling fan ta shei apon monei ghure choleche. Lotika jhuke porlo matite ki poreche dekhar jonno. Table er tolay uki martei jinish ta dekhte pelo se. Tok toke sonali. Ekebare taja. Ekti manusher deep fried angul.

E ki ceiling fan er awaj ta hothat jor mone hocche keno? Etobochor ek bhabe chole, ajke ki holo taar?

Tok. Tok. Tok.

Thik teenti toka porlo Lotikar dorjay shei muhurte.

Baire theke awaj elo...

"Madam... apnar fries gulo thanda hoye jacche"

https://preview.redd.it/teq8pzjzsb5h1.png?width=1122&format=png&auto=webp&s=2238e609291ac36fcc5145aeff23f0a8154e0d98

Amar kintu Robi Thakur er besh koyekta plot besh unique legeche, even ajker dine dariyeo - jemon ei Khudito Pashan ba Monihara. Monihara emon ekta timeless classic jetar proti era te nijosso interpretation hote paare.

Tarpor jemon dhorun Narayan Sanyal er Bissasghatok, Nobarun Bhattacharyar Herbert. Ei sub eri ekjoner kach theke ekta boi er sondhan pelam - Sesh Naag er Bish. Scale er dik theke ebong bishoy bostur dik theke besh onno rokom laglo, jaake bole juicy.

Apnara bolun apnader motamot, bisesh kore jodi contemporary lekhar moddhe erom kichu khuje paan.