Swati Sengupta

I'm reading Swati's blogs after a long time. I was shocked to see our HR forwarding her CV to me. For a moment, I childishly thought I'm going to work with Swati again. When that moment passed, I realized that it wasn't going to be. I knew she wouldn't be interested in Chennai. Our HR found it out after a few STD calls and a couple of mail exchanges.

Chennai has nothing to offer Swati.

Then I should write about her. She makes me wonder, especially when I read her blogs, how such an aggressive and bitter intellectual can reside inside such meek looks. Her pleasant demeanors are a mere facade. Also, she reminds me how two people can think so differently. I get enraged at many of her blogs for the sheer variety and emotionally provoking content they offer. She worships Kurt Cobain, Sylvia Plath, adores Bob Dylan, feels deeply for the world of Albert Camus, loves Calcutta (she perfers to call it that way), enjoys her leisure afternoons in Bottles & Chimneys and hates alarm clocks.

She is a classic example of how I longed a woman should be. But then, I know that I'm being subtly chauvinistic in imposing my ideas to define Swati. But I'm happy to note that, however I tried to bottle her into my own idiosyncratic definitions, she is going to bounce out to surprise and mock at my stupidity.

If you are reading and liking this, you should be as thankful to Swati as I am because she introduced me to blogging.